Tomorrow is Friday.

Normally that’s an excitingly beautiful statement that always brings grins and lights up eyes. But this is vacation week. Being almost Friday means that vacation is almost over. Then it’s just a regular weekend, and then it’s time to go back to work.

I’ve heard people say that we should be living the kind of lives that we don’t need vacations from. I think that sounds good, and for the most part, I’d say that I do. But no matter how much we love our jobs, we all need to take a break now and then.

I love teaching. It’s what I was created to do. It’s something that I’m good at and I truly enjoy. However, it is exhausting.

Some of today’s little ones bring so much baggage into that classroom. I once had a student who came in with a bruise on his forehead from where his father had hit him with a frying pan. “I hope it was an accident,” I told him gently. “It was,” he assured me. “He was aiming for my sister.”

How can I teach children to read when they need to be learning that they are loved? How can I grade children on how quickly they can add and subtract one and two digit numbers, when they aren’t even able to sit in a chair for ten minutes?

How can I assess students on whether or not they can identify the verbs in a sentence when they’re thinking about their empty lunchbox and wondering if they’ll have supper tonight? When they can’t stop their mind from wandering toward any noises passing by in the hallway? When they couldn’t sleep last night because of growing pains? When they’re so anxious and afraid of life that they explode when they make a mistake?

So I try to do it all. I bring in snacks to share while we look at nouns and verbs. I give each child a high-five as I greet them by name to remind them of how important they are to me. Then I sit on the floor and read with them. I let them stand, sit, or squat if they want while taking their timed tests, then I sort them into flexible groups to reteach and practice missing skills. I show them how to fold their paper in half to trick their brain into not panicking at the amount of work on the page. I give them headphones and ‘offices’ to minimize distractions. I let them nap in the beanbag chair when they need a brief escape. Despite the old adage about teaching, I smile all year long.

Then, every couple of months, a vacation comes along and I rest. I let my Abba refill my emotional tanks so that when I return to that classroom His love spills out of me into them. I read new books so that I have different stories and strategies to share when we gather on the rug. I clean my house and finish up the projects that there’s just no energy for on a school day. I recharge.

This vacation is going quickly. But that’s ok, because I’m just about ready to go back. Enjoy your Friday!