the secret awesomeness of toddlers

There is this balance of being a teacher: never knowing what the day will bring vs the chance to start fresh every morning.  Each morning is a brand new opportunity for awesomeness, for discovery, for laughter (ignoring the days filled with tears and wailing, frantic fire putting outing and constant conflict negotiation- do they give peace prizes for toddler teachers?)

Only a handful of times I've walked into the classroom, counting on my kids to pick me up and pull me through.  The morning a dear friend was deploying to war, one last conversation on my drive into work.  The morning I decided to pack up and move cross country again, still not entirely sure it was the right decision.  And today.

At least I sort of know what I'll be walking into.
I know that the GREAT BIG INSPECTOR will be here
We've been prepping for this day for a year

She may or may not even look in my room, may or may not even look at the 300+ items I pulled together showing off all the awesomeness that we do
Torn between wishing she doesn't observe my room (hello stress) and wishing she does, just so the work we've put in to the last year is recognized

I'm counting on a chorus of chants announcing my return to home school.  I'm counting on hugs and kisses and snuggles and hands tucked into mine.  I'm counting on laughter and silliness and smiles.

Grateful for the distraction.  For something concrete to think about.

Cause today my nephew is having surgery.  Nephews should never have surgery.
Knowing the once I walk into my classroom I won't have time to wonder/worry.
By the time I get to take a breath, drink some water and check my phone, he'll be done, starting the road to recovery.
1:30 can't come soon enough