You know how it is when you have a mosquito bite and people tell you not to scratch it? And how that just makes the itching worse? Or when you have a scab that's finally grown over a wound and you're told not to pick at it? That ensures that you won't be able to think of ANYTHING other than doing it.
For me, being told not to stress out about something triples the amount of stress I'm already feeling.
I've mentioned one or eleven times that teachers are going through a new evaluation process. One observation was announced and teachers could pick the subject (math or language arts) that they wanted the evaluator to see. After endless amounts of paperwork on both parts, we were given scores in about 387 areas, with scores ranging from a 1 to 5, 5 being "exceptional" and 1 being "oh my word how do you still have a job?" I had my announced observation in late October by someone I'd never laid eyes on. I thought it was terrible, but this was the evaluator's first year doing it, so I think she was very lenient and generous. The scores suited me fine. I am not exceptional, no surprise there, but apparently she doesn't think I need to be on the next bus to Lubbock.
But...
Now that most of the announced ones are over, it's time for the unannounced observations, or as I like to call them, "the drive-bys." We have no idea when someone will show up, though we think most of the time one of our administrators will pop in to observe us. We have no idea what subject they'll be coming to see. We know what they're looking for because we have the rubrics by which we're scored. And word on the street is that they're low-balling the scores so we have plenty of "room to grow and improve," since this whole process is being tagged as a "growth model."
Every time one of them talks to us about these evaluations, we're told, "DON'T stress out about this, y'all! It's NO big deal. None of us are worried; if we were concerned about any area of anyone's teaching, you'd already know. We're not stressed about it AT ALL."
That's when I feel my blood pressure rise and I get a little dizzy.
It's not that I mind someone coming in my room while I'm teaching. I like my administrators. In observations past they've been very positive, giving constructive criticism. But the model we're using now pretty much sets the comments up for what's wrong and what they didn't see, therefore they're forced to conclude that those criteria never happen, resulting in a lower score. To score a 3 or higher you practically have to put on a dog-and-pony show for every lesson in every subject every day. And I'll be honest with you. There are only so many days a week the I can be a show pony. The rest of the time I"m just a regular old horse pulling the wagon the best I can. Most of the time the ride is smooth, but there are days when the cart comes completely unhitched and a wheel breaks.
And then there's life at home. I stay stressed out because the laundry piles up faster than I can get it done. By the time I get a path cleared through the toys that are strewn everywhere, the boys have dragged it all out again. About half of the house gets vacuumed. I realize the solution to that problem is a better organizational system for the boys' things, but we're at maximum capacity around here, and I can't find a time to cull their toys and take them to Goodwill because I'm never here by myself.
There are nights when dishes don't get washed (and I hate to leave a dirty kitchen) because it's bath night and bedtime, and I've already mentioned the problems we're having with Small Fry and his nightly game of "you two are suckers if you think I'm staying in my room." By the time we've convinced both boys to go to sleep, I can barely stagger to bed myself. Last week my alarm went off one morning and as I was about to turn it off BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS SATURDAY it finally occurred to me that it was only Wednesday.
Then there is Zeus. David thinks he's putting on some weight and getting stronger, but the reality is that he can barely walk on his own without falling into something. I know that he can't see well, and I wonder if he's almost blind. David says he believes Zeus isn't in any pain, but I don't know. I just don't know. After everything he's been to me and done for me, I worry that I'm not doing the same for him. I don't know how to make him comfortable. He's four months shy of 17, and he's been a better dog than I, or anyone for that matter, have deserved. I worry about him all the time, and anyone who knows that losing a beloved pet is probably going to happen sooner than later knows that it brings grief, and grief is stressful.
Now, I don't want it to sound like my life is terrible, because it's not. It's filled with blessings upon blessings. And there is almost always a lighter side to everything.
I have a family whom I love more than life itself. They are my reason for getting out of bed each morning. David is a better husband than I deserve. Our two boys are healthy and happy. My mother is my best friend and is in great health, and we live close enough to see her often. My brother, a wonderful man, has moved closer to home, so we'll get to see him more than three times a year.
I enjoy teaching. It's hard work, but when you're teaching something and you know those little people "get it," it makes you feel like you've done something right. And there are a lot of people who would like to have my job and teach in the district I'm in. Plus, there is stress with any job. It's just a given.
I'm thankful that I have a home, though it might not be perfect and spotless, and I'm thankful we have plenty of clothes, even though it takes forever to do the laundry.
I'm grateful for having a dog who has been completely devoted to me for nearly 17 years. They say that most dogs will pick one person in the house to be "theirs," and from them moment we brought Zeus home, I was his. How could I look at this selfless animal and be anything but grateful? David often says, "You've always told Zeus that he has to live forever, and dang if he's not trying to do it for you."
Everyone has stress. And sometimes it's so compounded that it feels like you're going to buckle from its weight. All I know to do is put one foot in front of the other and wait for some of the stress to work itself out of the way.
Even so, I still don't like to be told not to get stressed out when, clearly, there are legitimate reasons to feel stress.
What about you? Am I the only one sailing in the stressed-out/pity-party boat?