A Rollercoaster Ride

My year of teaching has been one nonstop rollercoaster thus far.

Curving up, dropping down, exhilirating, thrilling, terrifying, no part of this year has been smooth, calm, or relaxing. As a result, I am already pretty tired.

Mechanicsburg suits me.

My colleagues are supportive, professional, and good-hearted. They care about students and want to do their best for all of the kids that walk into their classrooms. Colleagues whose names I don't even know yet ask me how I'm doing and offer support every time I see them.

The kids here are friendly and fun. For the most part, they aren't really angling for the grade or the "gotcha" moment. They pick on each other, but it generally stays playful. They've been patient with me on my sloppier days when, no matter how much planning I've done, things just don't click.

I trust my administrators.

On the other hand, I'm a mess! I can't wait to settle into more of a groove. I don't like the extremes. I do like the variety. I guess I'm ready for something less like The Great Bear at Hershey and more like The Phoenix at Knoebel's. I could ride The Phoenix all day.

I still want to go to Cedar Point one day, too.

I remember going to Hersheypark with my family when I was, I don't know, five? My dad wanted to take me on the Super Dooper Looper. I was terrified. About halfway through the long, long (almost 2 hours) line, I had to pee. I started bugging my dad, like kids do. We were about 2 minutes away from the coaster when I just couldn't handle it anymore. Tears. The pee dance. Panic. He whisked me off to a bathroom. He was so ticked, but he did the right thing. Moms prefer an annoyed dad over peed pants nine times out of ten. A couple years later, the same thing almost happened at Busch Gardens while we were in line for The Big Bad Wolf (one of my top 3 coasters). This time, I stuck it out, kept my cool, and ran for the bathroom afterwards.

Why does fear make us have to pee?