What I'm not missing

So. The school building is officially closed for the remainder of the school year. We won't have any sense of closure to the year. No goodbye hugs. No big awards ceremony to recognize each child in front of their parents. No class party. No cleaning out the room together to give them all the extra supplies we didn't end up using. No autograph books that we do on the last day to leave notes of encouragement with each child. No field trip or field trip memories. I could go on and on about all that's lost.

But you know me. There's so much to be gained, and I'm constantly reminding myself of that when this distance learning gig gets tough (and it does get hard some days). It's draining to contact parents over and over to get their child connected, to explain what they need to do, and still have little to no response. It's disheartening to spend so much time planning only to have participation drop a little bit more each week, as the district raises the expectation. It's tiring being online or on my phone all day, knowing that you need to reach out to friends and family in the evenings, but you've got parents and students needing your attention and guidance then, too. I'm truly working till 9 or 10 pm every night.

Lots of good stuff is happening, but the reality is, I really miss my kids, and it breaks my heart to wake up to videos from them first thing in the morning saying, "Ok, Mrs. Alspaugh, I miss you." Teaching online is teaching them great things and great skills that they wouldn't be learning otherwise. It's making them learn to organize themselves, to work more closely with their parents, and to be creative with technology. They're gaining confidence to video their work and explain their thinking and learning. They're problem solving their way through this just like we are. It's forcing teachers like me who were reluctant to use technology more efficiently in the classroom to realize all the potential behind it. But there's still a huge void without the daily hugs, pats on the back, simple smiles, and social interaction. I really miss those sweet little faces.

But while I'm desperately missing the physical proximity of my students, I'm NOT missing the physical proximity of my son. We went from begging him to take two days off of work during spring break to spend time as a family, thinking it was our last break together before college. I mean, summer was already packed. Graduation and graduation celebrations. Two weeks of camp (one as a leader, one as a camper). Two weeks in South Africa. Perhaps another week serving in the Rio Grande Valley. Plus working nearly full-time at Chick Fil-A and attending freshman orientation at DBU. Whew. And now here we are at home together, day after day, week after week, with most everything already canceled (or at least still up in the air) this summer, too.

We've been playing cards, playing Wii Sports, playing video games, watching movies and whole seasons of TV shows, cooking, baking, taking long walks, riding bike for miles on end, and sleeping late every day. There's nothing like riding bikes together and hearing your 18 year old say, "Remember when we....." as we turn a corner down a street we used to ride together when he was younger. And just the other day, I mentioned a senior photo shoot at a place we rode by on our bikes, and he quickly agreed. Every moment I spend with this kid, I'm eternally grateful because this time is truly a gift that I thought had already expired.

Someone started a Facebook Group called Adopt a Senior, and each Senior got to be adopted twice. Here are some sweet goodies that have arrived at our doorstep to celebrate our quarantined senior as a result of this new movement. (We adopted a random stranger, too--another Senior from another school that's headed to DBU, as well.)

Now that it's official we're not going back, we now await news on graduation, which is technically only a month and two days away. Yes, we're missing so much these days, but look at all we're NOT missing. Moments that would not have existed if things were "normal".

So, I apologize for not reaching out to a lot of friends and family. It's not that I'm not thinking about you and missing you. Parts of this job literally drain me (constant phone calls and texts, slow computers, learning new things and apps every day, zoom meetings, Google Hangouts--which can be fun and good, but are extremely draining to this introvert, etc.), and in the off-moments (the odd moments that I'm not working), I'm either reading for pleasure--because I finally can, writing for pleasure--because it's quiet, or embracing every moment of true quality time I've been gifted with this boy.