Doubting Amy

Nothing new has happened today. I'm my usual fearful, questioning self. I've been debating for a while if I could really be a teacher for the next 30 years. Don't get me wrong. I love teaching. Kids are hilarious, sweet, and innocent. They're also frustrating. That however would not keep me out of the classroom. It's stressful, yes, but with children each day is a new day. They always start out fresh without the previous days' grudges and anger. How many adults can say that? What would keep me out of the classroom however is the stress from parents and the politcal stuff. That's the only thing I know to call it. Just stuff. There is always pressure for perfection. How many perfect kids do you know? Every day is a reminder that they have to succeed on that final test. If they don't, they suffer, you suffer, the school suffers, and finally the school district suffers. Who signed up for that? The bigger "thing" in all this is that you are supposed to helping mold a child's mind and heart for his/her entire life. What a noble and wonderful thought. Then in steps the real world. Don't get me wrong. Everything you do will affect these children in one way or another. A scary thought. If you don't believe me, think about one of your worst days at school and tell me there wasn't a teacher involved that you will never be able to forget; then think about your best day and remember your undying affection for that teacher. But there is never any attention on that. The focus is always the TEST. The good teachers and principals still believe in helping children, but they are under tremendous pressure too. There is no escaping it. So I battle back and forth on a weekly basis. Can I handle this for so long? Do I have a choice? I'm considering getting my masters, but what then? I want a good job, that doesn't feel like a job. Who doesn't want that? Sometimes I think I'm just lazy. I've always wanted to be able to stay home with my children when I have them, but what if I got bored or couldn't deal with it? That would be a worse feeling than never being able to do it. At least being a teacher, lets me know what teachers want so that I can help my own children. I will always have holidays and weekends off with them. How many people can boast that? In the midst of all the blessings, there is always doubt with me. I wish I understood why. Maybe I do. I just don't want to face why. Then when it seems I need it the most, the faith is there. Strong and sure. I am two people. One always at war with the other. How can I be so sure and so scared? So spontaneous and so predictable? So adventurous and so boring? So loving and so withdrawn? So independent and so afraid to be alone? So blessed and still so skeptical? My husband has a song that he sings to me. It always brings tears to my eyes and reminds me of his love. I've told him that I'm not sure I see the person he does, but he reassures me. That is what great husbands do.

You got to leave me now, You got to go alone
You got to chase a dream, one that's all your own
Before it slips away.
When you're flying high, take my heart along.
I'll be the harmony to every lonely song
That you learn to play.

When you're soaring through the air, I'll be your solid ground
Take every chance you dare, I'll still be there
When you come back down.
When you come back down.

I'll keep looking up, awaitin your return,
My greatest fear will be that you will crash and burn,
And I won't feel your fire.
I'll be the other hand that always holds the line
Connecting in between your sweet heart and mine,
I'm strung out on that wire.

And I'll be on the other end, To hear you when you call,
You were born to fly, If you get too high
I'll catch you when you fall
I'll catch you when you fall

Your memory's the sunshine every new day brings
I know the sky is calling,
Let me help you with your wings.
By Nickel Creek

If this doesn't make sense, I do apologize. I warned you. I ramble. The only way to collect the thoughts is to put them down. They still don't make alot of sense then, but I always feel reassured. Enjoy.