Begin Again

Well, I just started my third year of fourth grade. For some reason, this seems so monumental to me.  Probably because I was positive that I would not be working this long. But hey. Life happens. And we are doing important things over here, people.
The first week of school is very important, in my opinion.  The waters will be tested for the next three months and I will be strict and clear with my expectations.  Privileges will be gained, and then lost. And this continues until they finally understand how this classroom works.
I will greet them every morning and tell them how glad I am they are here, and how much I love their face.  And when they leave, I will give them a high five {even to my hardest children}, because we survived another day of fun and learning and that is always something to celebrate.
In the first few weeks of school, I think of all my previous students. I miss them. I want them all to come back and be in my class forever.  And each year I always worry, "Will I love these guys that much too?"  And each year, I do. 
I love their smiles as I sing them songs to get their attention, as we do planks before Math {because no one is awake at 8:30 in the morning}, and as they start to follow my sense of humor.
We do so many team building and anti-bullying activities.
We talk about our feelings and how we want our classroom to be.
We play piano guys while creating our time capsules for the end of the year. And when we know the song, we hum along ever so quietly.
I love teaching. More than I can ever put into words.  I love shaping these little humans into productive members of the community. I love teaching them about the world around us and how everything we learn is applicable, and important. For the next nine months, I will devote hundreds of hours to their success and then pray that their next teacher will build upon my foundation. 
I am going to miss this.