Learning something new about myself (kinda) in Age 36

emphasized textSo when I was in college, if I did not get into the nursing program, my fall back was teaching. I wanted to teach English. I was very good at it. Still kinda am, just not to the degree I once was. Anywho, fast-forward to now and I have a 6 year old whom I am responsible, along with his teacher, for teaching reading and such.

Let me tell you....thank God I did not become a teacher.

This post is not to bash on them, its to lift them up on a pedestal of gratitude (at least so far) for their time and efforts on helping make my little human into a person that can carry himself later. Now for context please remember that my 6 year old is my oldest, and as such I have never been through elementary with a child before. That being said, I got my son’s first report card, progress report, whatever you call it, and he is not doing well? At least that is what I gathered from it. So I started to do some stuff here at home, apart from homework to help him along.

Again I emphasize, thank God I did not become a teacher.

I am a nurse. I deal with sick and dying patients. And I am used to speaking plainly and bluntly so as not to cause confusion with the information I give. You’d think that this would work well with a child. It does not. And it does not work well with me, because I have figured out that I have no patience. Like none. I have to catch myself from cursing at my child for not knowing, what is to me, very easy information, but for him, he is just learning.

Thanking the same God. I have a teacher here at home. My hubbs. Being in a long term relationship/marriage let’s you see different sides of your spouse. Now I get flashes of what my husband is like at work. My jaw dropped as I watched how clearly, patiently, and encouragingly he aided my son in his work. This man who pisses me off most of the time, leaves shit stains in the toilet, and whose navel lint I pick out....is a FANTASTIC teacher.

My appreciation for him doubled. And his sex appeal tripled. The point I am trying to make here is, teaching a little human is hard. Potty training was easier. This is the stuff that you are never warned about when they are cooking in your uterus. I am meandering my way through it, hitting and bumping myself along the metaphorical way, but I am getting through it. And my husband is the light in the path with me.

But yes, I am inpatient, I get frustrated easily, and I tend to want to rebuke while I am helping my son with his work. Thus, the whole point of this post, is I would not make a good teacher.