wrapping up

It was my second to last day today.  Lots of people thought it was my last day.  Technically, Monday is - and the second response I kept hearing is, "Why would you come on Monday?"

I don't know, because I'm supposed to.  Because I don't want to leave more classes as a burden to more people.  I mean, do I really have permission to just not come?

I'm not quite ready to leave either - I have projects I'm collecting and marking.  I have plans and paperwork to leave behind for my successor.

The assistant principal of the 5th grade came to me, thinking it was my last day as well, and thanked me for all that I do.  He took me by surprise because he has seemed overwhelmed this year and every time I've asked for help from him, I felt like I was one more annoying fifth grader adding to his burden.  But he was returning a compliment I gave him a couple of years ago.  He was the assistant principal of another grade and reviewing my performance.  So I reviewed his as well, in a letter.  I had written other letters that year trying to address issues, and I was tired of the falseness of people's responses, the defensiveness, and even the superficial nature of these performance reviews.  So I decided to be more effective in a positive way, and I thanked him for his support, etc. and the letter touched him.  I knew it would.  Sometimes, we don't thank or compliment people because we are shy, or self-centered, or afraid it will seem insincere or "brown-nosing."  But what silly reasons these are that stop us from sharing something that most likely will just make someone feel good about him or herself.  It's something I learned from my Bayport Grandma.  She never hesitated to rave to someone, and her sincerity made people blush.  The first time she met my piano teacher, her mouth dropped open and she said, "Oh my, what a beautiful smile you have!"  My piano teacher must have weighed over 250 pounds, but her smile is what my grandmother noticed and didn't hesitate to blurt out.

And now, I was being given a compliment, and it does feel good - it helps me leave with confidence rather than self-doubt, satisfaction rather than uncertainty as to whether I had any sort of impact.  It is inevitably lonely being a foreigner - I can't read people as well, I don't hear the gossip, I can't follow the daily happenings very well - I needed to hear something good, and so he was my Bayport Grandma today.


I am very excited for this next phase - being at home with the kids, waiting for the baby - its still hard to believe and imagine that this dear one, kicking in my belly, rolling around constantly, will soon be in my arms and part of this family.  What a beautiful gift - scary and exciting.  Am I ready?  Scared a bit.  A part of me is okay with freezing this moment in time - 9 months pregnant and on hold indefinitely.

I came home today and waited for the kids to ask to go to Mina's, or turn on their show - but they were happily playing with their Babanne.  Baba was clean shaven, fresh clothes, his winter hat on sideways (because he's sick) and a glove on his right hand (because of the rheumatism in his bones) and looking a little more alert tonight.  So I motioned to him with a shake of my hand as if rolling die - my offer to play tavla with him.  He shrugged his shoulder noncommittally - which meant, he was ready to play.

Baba's defeat

I enjoy playing a game or two - but tavla is always played best of five.  And of course this one was dragged out to 5-4, me.  Tomris was up on the table again for most of the game.  Picking up the dice for us, stacking the pieces, shining a flashlight in our faces, playing doctor with my face.  Two year olds are pretty amazing, and no amount of coaxing from her Babanne could convince her that there were better games away from us.

But I didn't mind - she's my girl.