I've never in my life been more excited for the coming of summer. I hate hot weather. I have to fight from becoming monster-emily whenever it is hot and humid outside. And yet, I'm so very excited.
Whoopee no more Perry. This is sad for me, of course, because I didn't want to leave, but I'm seeing the good in it -- it is a completely fresh start with new students. I can try again to be the teacher I want to be. And I'm upgrading to sophomores and teaching yearbook, which should be a blast. I'm all about electives. I (and friends of mine) prayed that I would only get one job offer, so that I wouldn't have to choose. But we were praying that the choice would be between two other positions that I badly wanted. Both turned me down, with encouragement and complements, but the next day (what's up with God giving me "but the next day"s all the time? that wasn't a complaint, it's just funny) I was offered a position at Wellston. The second interview in a line of interviews this spring. I immediately liked this principal and the school, but I didn't think about it after the possibility of an art job or a charter school job. But anyway, I guess it is where I'm supposed to be -- so I hope I do well.
This is my first week of summer and I've spent it working at Nature Camp where my group, the Awesome Possum Posse, a group of eleven 6-year-olds, are giving me a great week. I just realized that although I'm frustrated with how the camp is organized and although I'm worn out by the tykes, I'm really having a good time. I adore the kids and seriously think about baby-snatching. Just as I used to think with Malee, who first stole my heart, and how I think about Grace now. There's one little girl in particular, Chrissa who blows me away. She ALWAYS needs a drink, but she's incredibly brave and polite. "Miss Emily," she says every five minutes, "may I go get my water bottle out of my cubby?" I love her face. She has almost white hair, a little upturned nose, and dark brown eyes. Yesterday she climbed the highest in this old cedar tree and I asked her to make her way down because, as I told her, she was making me nervous. As she climbed down I positioned myself, while panicking, to catch her when she fell. Well, just as I turned my head, she slips. And I turn to catch her, but I miss and she falls seven feet. Miraculously she didn't hit her fragile body on a lower branch, but landed on a clear patch of dirt. I freaked out internally, but just looked at her to see her reaction so I would know what to do. She picked up her head, looked at me, and said, "Wow, that hurt," then she stood up and said, "let's go catch up with the rest of the group now." I hope to remember that next time I fall or hurt myself.
I could talk a lot about the other kids as well, there are many stories in my head ready to come out, but I'm sleepy and there's still one day left of camp.