My older sister asked me something interesting the other day, “Isn’t being a teacher kinda like signing up to have homework every day?”  The answer.  Yes, yes it is.  I didn’t realize that at first, but it seems that between work-school and school-school I always have homework. 

There’s the lesson planning.  The online discussion forums.  The required responses.  The editing of papers.   The due date that I mistyped into my Google calendar for said online classes.  The 5 a.m. wakeups out of a dead sleep because the assignment that I thought was due Friday is actually due Wednesday.  The awful last minute essay about something that I have no clue about.  The finding out that that said assignment actually was due on Friday… so I didn’t need to lose any sleep and didn’t need to turn in subpar work.  

The attempting to exercise four days a week.  The guilt when I only manage three.  The scale in the morning.  The tracking of food so I don’t gain back all of the weight that I’ve gotten rid of over the past year. 

The way that my work life has invaded my personal life so much that all I talk about now is which kid did what and why it’s so hilarious… or frustrating.  The asking myself ‘how can I improve this?  How can I tweak that so that the kids will understand.’ 

The worrying about what’s for dinner.  What’s for lunch.  Is the house clean?  The laundry washed?  Are the floors swept and mopped?  When was the last time that I did that?

Am I being the wife the he deserves?  Am I ignoring him?  Am I making sure that he doesn’t feel like Erin Gruwell’s husband: neglected and alone?

Have I read my Bible?  Have I talked with Him about anything?  Thanked Him for everything?  Worshipped Him?

There’s so much on my mind and on my plate.  So, yes, Nikki, yes it is a lot like signing up for homework. 




2 thoughts on “Responsible.

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