The homestretch

That's what all the teachers call this time of year. I see it more like I've been climbing a mountain, and these last 5 weeks are like the super rocky, slippery part right before the summit, where you're not sure if you have enough oxygen or strength to make it to the top. Summer would be the easy downhill climb, and once you reach the bottom, it's almost September and you may as well turn around and start climbing again.

Anyway, I haven't meant for this to become some sort of monthly thing. I always thought I'd be one of those annoying people who blogged almost daily about just anything. I know I keep promising to be more consistent with this, but I may as well stop and say that once I reach the top of Middle School Wrangling Mountain, I will be back more often.

So, good news: I have been offered my position at Linus Pauling for next year, same hours and everything, and I would be a moron of gigantic proportions to not take it. The major sacrifice we have to make is pushing our plan to move back to the Portland area another year, but I think we can live with that, especially if we get some sort of furry pet to make up for the serious lack of people around.

Another plus: apartments are waaaay cheaper here in Corvallis, and we've decided on a two-bedroom, one bath in a much nicer part of town. It is a definite upgrade from the place we have now. Don't get me wrong; I love it here, but the complex was constructed somewhere near 1972, when I suppose not having lights in the closet, golden-hued countertops matched with dark dark dark cabinets, or a slightly slanted kitchen floor wasn't a big deal.

I suppose the hardest thing for me these last few weeks was to actually find the silver lining in staying here another year. I had really amped myself for leaving, and starting a new chapter in our lives, and I felt like I was being held back against my will. Then I'd get mad at myself because hey, it was a job, for crying out loud, which, right now, is a lot more than some people have. And yeah, there are days when I want to pull my hair out and punt more than one kid out the window (there is a reason those windows don't open all the way, and why Glencoe High School had none: the temptation is too great) but in the end, I adore my job, and I adore my kids.

So yeah. Staying here another year certaintly won't kill me, and who knows what lies in store for me, or us, in the upcoming year. I'm sure there will be more surprises.

Okay, if you made it this far, here is your reward:

This is what happens when you get two tired educators on a Friday night!