Every Monday morning, I go to an elementary school in Seneca to observe a first grade class (and then a preschool special ed class!) and learn how to be a teacher. I love getting to actually be in a school for a little bit every week and I love getting to wear teacher clothes. I didn't go last week because of spring break, so when I got back this week, the first grade teacher I help asked me what I did for break. I told her that I went to Pennsylvania to visit some people I love and then popped over to Washington, DC for a couple of hours on the way home. She got this kind of sad look on her face and told me to enjoy being young and free. She kept on repeating herself and telling me to take advantage of it and to make sure I love it. I could tell that she was majorly yearning for the things that I have now: my flexibility, my independence, my innocence. After this had gone on for a minute or so, I was a little annoyed.
I loved spring break. I loved getting to see my niece and I loved getting to spend time with friends without having the feeling of homework looming and dooming over my shoulder. I loved getting to be in Philly, because I'm definitely a small town mouse without much city experience. I was fascinated by all the goings-on of the city: playgrounds and fish stores, churches and compacting trash cans, train stations and big beautiful old majestic city halls, and so many people walking around. The city was exactly how my mind feels 88% of the time. It was engaging and busy and you had to know what you were doing in order to navigate at all.
Everything wasn't completely cookies and sunshine the whole time though. I was tired a lot during the trip and I got grumpy at one point. We had to drive eleven hours to PA in a minivan with six people and I kept falling asleep with my mouth wide open and waking up a little embarrassed and with a really dry and funny-tasting mouth. And in the smack dab middle of our nation's capital on the very first day of spring, I fell off of a bike (not because I'm hardcore but because I forgot how to ride it) twice, and that was significantly more embarrassing than sleeping with my mouth open. I also realized about five days in to the trip that I really missed fruit.
Overall, though, it was a great spring break. I loved most of the minutes of it. It was better than working (even if this teacher's job is hanging out with first graders, which I think is awesome) and going home to a bunch of little people asking you to make them food every night.
I had initially wanted to (nicely) sass her after she kept telling me to enjoy being young. I wanted to say say, "Hey lady, you had your chance." I wanted to remind her that she was young once and she should have enjoyed it because now she's older and she gets to have nice things like a job and a disposable income and she is settled.
But it's not nice to sass your elders, and she wasn't trying to make me feel defensive when she told me to enjoy my youth. She was giving me some legitimately good advice for my future: to genuinely enjoy this time where I'm just floating around and riding trains like a Narnia character, because one day I'll get to be a grown-up like her and I won't get to go back.
I think that being a grown up is kind of like shaving your legs: once you start, you can't stop. Or at least, you shouldn't.
Love,
Lauralicious
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