It made a lot of sense for me to put on the stay-at-home-dad hat when we moved out here. Stacey often works long hours, based around what projects must go out immediately to meet clients' expectations, and with us knowing nobody out here when we moved from Alabama, someone needed to hold down the fort at home. Not just cooking and cleaning, although that is critically important. How about arranging doctor and dentist appointments? Dogs to the vet? Paying bills? Auto maintenance? Planning trips? Travelling back and forth to bring Marley out here in the summer? How about going to North Carolina for a month last summer to hang out with my father-in-law in the hospital so his wife could return to work?
It's been a busy time.
But I found there is only so much cooking and cleaning and organizing I can do before I start holding conversations with the dogs.
And answering myself in what I imagine to be dog voices.
Yep, that bad.
So last fall I answered the call for bus drivers, to enable all the routes to have drivers, to make sure all the kids get a ride to school. It has been an interesting year, indeed, of memorizing 150 kids' names and faces and enough information to tell them apart, of reading route maps in the pitch-black 5:45 morning as I rumble from stop to stop, of sweating and burning in 100-degree weather in an un-airconditioned metal tube. Learning to glance hurriedly in the mirror to make sure no one is standing, throwing trash, or bullying someone else, all this while navigating through traffic that darts in front of a bus with little respect for the inertia of a 14-ton vehicle. I can tell you, air brakes can stop a bus quickly.
What a year! I have been astounded, amused, frustrated, and mystified daily. Charmed, moved, and touched by my students' different perspectives on the world we both see through the same front windows.
Some people see the hand of God in everything, leading and guiding us to proper decisions and commitments once we learn to open up to inspiration. Maybe I have felt the hand of God guiding me the last year.
Maybe sometimes I've felt it pushing me. A shove, even.
I've finally listened, opened my heart to where I am heading. Driving a bus was the final piece of the puzzle, to assure me that I do have a rapport with schoolkids, that I can listen and respond and lead and discipline and relate to them every day.
So I am returning to school next semester, my goal to become a teacher. Looking back, it seems my most satisfying jobs all contained elements of teaching and coaching and training and directing people. Of learning to find the knack of motivating people different from myself. I like to tell myself it has all been leading me to this.
At any rate, in this month of giving thanks, I am very thankful for all the kids who ride my bus. Very thankful for the little triumphs. Very thankful for the failures which pushed me to reset my preconceptions and look at things a different way. Most thankful for the times I've been cheered or gobsmacked or had my heart and thoughts wrenched by a sudden epiphany.
Thanks, kids. I appreciate all those miles with you so far, here's to many more the rest of the year.
And answering myself in what I imagine to be dog voices.
Yep, that bad.
So last fall I answered the call for bus drivers, to enable all the routes to have drivers, to make sure all the kids get a ride to school. It has been an interesting year, indeed, of memorizing 150 kids' names and faces and enough information to tell them apart, of reading route maps in the pitch-black 5:45 morning as I rumble from stop to stop, of sweating and burning in 100-degree weather in an un-airconditioned metal tube. Learning to glance hurriedly in the mirror to make sure no one is standing, throwing trash, or bullying someone else, all this while navigating through traffic that darts in front of a bus with little respect for the inertia of a 14-ton vehicle. I can tell you, air brakes can stop a bus quickly.
What a year! I have been astounded, amused, frustrated, and mystified daily. Charmed, moved, and touched by my students' different perspectives on the world we both see through the same front windows.
Some people see the hand of God in everything, leading and guiding us to proper decisions and commitments once we learn to open up to inspiration. Maybe I have felt the hand of God guiding me the last year.
Maybe sometimes I've felt it pushing me. A shove, even.
I've finally listened, opened my heart to where I am heading. Driving a bus was the final piece of the puzzle, to assure me that I do have a rapport with schoolkids, that I can listen and respond and lead and discipline and relate to them every day.
So I am returning to school next semester, my goal to become a teacher. Looking back, it seems my most satisfying jobs all contained elements of teaching and coaching and training and directing people. Of learning to find the knack of motivating people different from myself. I like to tell myself it has all been leading me to this.
At any rate, in this month of giving thanks, I am very thankful for all the kids who ride my bus. Very thankful for the little triumphs. Very thankful for the failures which pushed me to reset my preconceptions and look at things a different way. Most thankful for the times I've been cheered or gobsmacked or had my heart and thoughts wrenched by a sudden epiphany.
Thanks, kids. I appreciate all those miles with you so far, here's to many more the rest of the year.
I'm jealous
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