My PE schedule for this upcoming school year is set in stone.
Except the exact opposite of that, because let’s face it: The first day of school is going to run next Tuesday, and we’re going to need to make adjustments, because there are ALWAYS adjustments to be made when you’re running the real drill, and not just the ON PAPER drill. The only big glitch that we found in my original schedule is that our principal had the 1st graders coming into my gym at 10:51 in the mornings, while the 2nd graders weren’t leaving until 10:59.
(We’re so precise with the minutes at our little private school!)
(It’s what sets us apart from the common public schools, who say things like “10:45” and “11:00.”)
Ultimately, this created eight entire minutes where I would have 1st and 2nd grades overlapping, which meant DOUBLE THE CHILDREN running wild, screaming loudly and throwing random basketballs all over the place. There’s not enough sangria in the world to make this something that I could get through, so we adjusted things. Those second graders will still leave at 10:59, but the first graders are now set to arrive at 11:02.
Because every minute matters.
So, my PE classes are now all scheduled beautifully, and let’s face it: I could walk in and teach tomorrow, because I have zero bulletin boards to get ready and zero desks to move back in after my carpets were shampooed over the summer… because I have no carpet. A few motivational posters on the gym walls (“Great Success Takes Time,” and “Be Nice To Everyone,” and “Being Challenged In Life Is Inevitable; Being Defeated Is Optional“), and BOOM.
I’m good to go.
Meanwhile, all the classroom teachers are frantically moving desks and filing cabinets and round tables and extra chairs, all of which have been piled in the school’s hallways during the end-of-the-summer carpet-cleaning-spree, done by our maintenance staff. They’re organizing books and making Word Walls and putting bulletin boards up, and listen:
They could have all chosen to be a PE teacher.
Meanwhile, the soccer balls and rubber playground balls and hula hoops and jump ropes are all neatly stored in my supply closet, where I left them last May, my gym floor has been polished to a shine over the summer, and I’ve got motivational posters on the walls, right beside all the banners that say how much better our school is than yours is, because we won state basketball in this year and that year, and that year, and that year, and these thirty-six years.
In other words, I’m ready.
I always hate to see summer break end, because not knowing what day of the week we’re on is flat-out wonderful, but then…
… I get back into the building with the rest of our staff, who are all fantastically fun people…
… and we laugh like hyenas and argue over who is going to get stuck doing lunch room duty…
… and then suddenly I’m just READY to go back.
Remind me about this in early November, when we’re crossing days off the calendar, in anticipation of WHEN WILL CHRISTMAS BREAK EVEN GET HERE?!
So yes, Summer. You’ve been fun. You’ve given us some great days and some dirty floors, and I have pink streaks growing on the inside of my toilet, because I’ve been too busy doing nothing to take care of them, but it’s now time to get back to a real schedule, with my PE whistle in my hand.
And it helps a whole lot that I just have recess duty, and NO CAFETERIA DUTY!!
Because we may have won a lot of state basketball championships at our school, but we are too small to have permanent playground monitors. No, ma’am. We teachers do all the extra duties ourselves.
And I won’t be slinging the mop over the spilled cartons of milk on the lunchroom floor, so I’m already chalking this year up to a total win.