After shadily making my way into the 8th grade promotion ceremony (don't ask how it happened. It wasn't pretty or professional. I may have thrown someone under the bus), I thought to myself, I'm going to be stoic. STOIC. You know, smile, be proud, watch my loves promote onto high school.
Yeah, that lasted for like, 5 minutes. Then, I started bawling like a baby. Well, not really bawling. More like a stream of tears coming down my face as I tried to look appropriate.
It didn't help that, during bell work today, I told my fifth graders that I wasn't coming back to school next year. In their journals, I had them write about where they wanted to move if they could move to a new state. Then we chatted about that for a while. Then, I asked them why they think I put that journal topic up. A few guesses in, and one kid goes, "Because you're moving next week." Mind you, this was said sarcastically.
You know how hard it is to say, "Well actually, I am?" Do you know?
My babies got all sad and shocked. My namesake and project for the year (OFFICIALLY NO DAYS OF ISS, friends, after spending half of last year in it) came up to me and said, "I need to take a break." He wrote himself a pass and walked out. On me.
So I mosey to promotion, where I am in tears during the whole thing, but complete break down when JP, (remember, the girl I snuck in during her suspension last year to go to math class) thanks me in her speech for being there for her.
TEARS. Thanks, JP, for opening the floodgates.
After some more tears and hugs, I left my loves to go back to my class. I guess there was a constant pit feeling in my stomach because it is SO hard to leave these babes. I feel like I'm walking out on them. It hurts. A lot.
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