I’m not a Deadhead by any means, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how quickly time moves in all aspects of my life. I feel like I was just getting ready for a new work week, and it’s already almost over. It seems like I am still a young gal, early 20′s, just starting her career; add about 10 years to that, and it’s a bit closer to the truth. I feel like my littlest prince is still a baby, yet he learns new words and tricks every single day. (His current favorite word is ‘happy.’ Perfection.) I missed a deadline for an assignment because it said on the syllabus it wasn’t due until January 22; I missed the memo that yesterday was actually January 22. I can’t keep up!
My current beefs with time:
1. The school year is officially half-over, which is actually a good thing. In 18 weeks, the bright-eyed freshmen who entered my classroom at 7:20, officially terrified of getting lost, will become jaded, been-there-done-that sophomores. They will have survived “Romeo and Juliet,” so I think they can handle anything. Before I know it, they’ll be the seniors who quietly acknowledge me with a head nod in the hallway (or run up and try to sneak a hug) as a “Hey, I remember you!” The longer I teach, the faster the years seem to fly by. And, truly, it’s one of my favorite aspects of the job and keeps it fresh. There are so many milestones in a high school year – football games, winter break, standardized tests (I didn’t say they were all fun milestones…), dances, drama. So much to experience at such a fast pace.
2. My son is a soon-to-be kindergartener. How the heck did that happen? I can vividly remember his coming into the world – he entered the world in a rush, and he hasn’t stopped moving or talking since. As I made contacts with the school this week for his kindergarten registration, I had to sit back and realize the gravity of what will occur in the fall. I know he’s ready. He’s smart, friendly, kind, and he loves to learn. I just don’t know if I am ready to be a mom of a school-aged child. Remember earlier when I said I still feel like a young ‘un? Not so much.
3. Time, while running, is all relative. Treadmill time and outdoor time are not equal in any sense. I’ve discovered a true love for running outdoors – I’ve actually experienced a few runner’s highs, and I can’t get enough! Tell that to Pittsburgh’s Mother Nature – that bitch – who has cursed us with arctic tundra-like temperatures this week that sent me, dragging ass, back to the dreadmill. I ran three miles, and I felt every single step. I fixated on the distance numbers, counting down each tenth of a mile until I could finally justify stopping. I think I need to sell her. I don’t even want to look at her anymore. Yes, my treadmill is a ‘she.’ Girls are way meaner than boys.
4. While I sat at home tonight, counting down the minutes until bed time/quiet time in the house, my husband was engaged in a different kind of countdown. He, lucky bastard, was sitting at the Consol Energy Center, anxiously awaiting the return of Penguins hockey to Pittsburgh. It’s about dang time! I’ve so missed trying to translate Malkin’s post-game interviews and trying lip read the curse words the players throw out during the games.
So, I’m torn. Do I sit back and enjoy the ride, or try desperately to slow things down? Everyone always tells me to enjoy my boys while they are young, and I do try. They don’t always make it easy, but I try. As for the rest of the stuff in my life, I’m not as worried. I love my job, and I love being the first person to mold my students as they enter high school. And, as for running, I’m just going to quit the treadmill and bundle up. I’d like to think Malkin would appreciate my bravery in the winter elements. He is Russian, after all.