A cup of coffee and a bagel.

Scrolling through my news feed at 5 pm trying to keep my exhausted eyes from closing, it was a picture of a desk with a coffee mug and a bagel that did me in. A desk, a coffee mug, and a bagel.


It was the end of day that went something like this:
"Mrs. Remark, Mrs. Remark!". The words shatter my ear for the 20th time today. I hear the same statement exit my mouth that has exited at least a dozen other times in the same hour, calm, cool, collected- like this is the first time I have said it in my whole life. The noise level in the room rises, I  ask for it to lower. I circle the room, helping each student one by one, wishing I had 8 more arms, yet knowing that wouldn't be enough. As I converse with another student, I feel a poke on my arm. Ignore it. Poke again. Ignore. Poke, poke, poke. Calmly I turn around "excuse me, I'm speaking with another friend, you are going to have to wait." Conversation finished, I see 14 hands in the air, each with his or her own dire need. I attend to the poker who needed me so desperately she got out of her chair to get my attention, the same one that gets out of her chair on a five minute increment schedule. The volume in the room progressively gets louder. I mutter said statement for the 15th time this hour. Volume decreases, but not for long. I hear crying. A student frustrated by the task has resorted to tears. Over to his desk to solve the problem, I bend down to his level and speak with him about what is wrong. Poke. Poke. Poke. I spin around, "please go to your desk and raise your hand if you would like my help." Back to the conversation at hand. As I attempt to talk through this student's feelings, I hear a loud thunk. A student has fallen out of his chair. The same student I have asked on several occasions to keep all 4 feet on the ground. I turn around and ask him if he is okay, he nods yes, crisis diverted. Back to conversation. The tears are stopped, I walk away from the student's desk to attend to the 13 other hands, most which have been patiently waiting for me. I praise the students for waiting so patiently for my assistance. The volume in the room increases, and I take note of the 12 or so students who have worked quietly the whole time, praising their efforts to follow my directions. The room quiets. I attend to a few other student's questions before glancing at the clock and realizing it is time for recess. I ask students to quietly put their materials away. A few students choose to continue working. I circle around to their desks to ask each of them to put their materials away. A loud sigh. An eye roll. A slamming of the desk. I'll have to deal with that later, we are currently 4 minutes late for our 15 minute recess. One by one I call the students to line up at the door. Off they go, except for the few stragglers who are still working on putting their materials away. I circle to their desks to assist them in putting away their materials. 10 minutes of lunch have passed. Another student sits at her desk working on an incomplete math assignment, she asks if I can help her. Heading over to her desk I walk her through the worksheet step by step, giving the same directions I had given earlier in math. 10 minutes pass of this one-on-one working, we finish. I send her off to lunch.  I pick up the remaining scraps of paper that are scattered around the room, finally enough time to think. "I sent something to the printer this morning that I forgot to pick up, if I don't get it now I will certainly forget it..." so off I go across the school. Practically running, I pick up my printed material, swing by the copier to send a few copies through the machine, it jams. I take the machine apart trying to fix the jam so I don't leave it for the next pour soul who flies through the copy room at 100 miles per hour. I fumble with the machine, taking it apart in several places, and finally discover the minuscule piece of paper it is calling a "jam".  I grab the half-stack of copies and head back to my classroom, I'll have to finish the other copy job later. I check the clock as I enter the room. 12 minutes until I have to pick up the kids from lunch. 12 minutes seems like an eternity in my world. I have learned to be efficient, or I won't get anything done. I check my e-mail, 2 parent e-mails that need responding. I send a response to each. I remind myself, yes remind myself that I have needed to go to the bathroom since 8:00 this morning, but realize those two e-mails put me over the allotted time it would take to get to the bathroom, wash my hands and get back to pick up my kids- so I tell myself it will have to wait. I'm no stranger to complete school days without a bathroom break, a seat in a chair, or a moment to think... 

I know I don't have the hardest job known to man kind. I know I am incredibly blessed to get to be an integral part of so many kids' lives. I know that many jobs are fast-paced, high-stress, over-stimulating. I get it. I'm not throwing a pitty-party, or looking for sympathy- I love my job, I love my kids, I love being a part of their lives- I just wish, some days, I could sit at my desk in a quiet, calm environment where I can hear myself think and enjoy a cup of coffee and a bagel.