My Kids

Okay, yeah, second one today.
And guess what?
I'm going to live up to that promise after all.
This is going to be a happy post.

While I often talk about how great or crappy my different groups are in the "my day" blogs, I haven't actually sat down and considered what impact my kids have had on my current life.
And they've had a pretty big impact.
I love teaching on Wednesday afternoons, it brings joy to my otherwise pointless life.
I love the fact that attractive girls often notice that I sometimes have a crowd of kids following me and say "Ooh, looks like you've got a fan club, Peter."
I love that they take my advice, and use it, and then are better off because of it.
"Oh I can't do it," and "I give up," is something I've heard more than once. You know what has happened at the end of every lesson like this? After my small amount of input and teaching, they manage to run up to me at the end of the lesson, with a beaming smiler on their little face saying, "Look! I did it!"
And I'm like "I told you so"
And then they skip away merrily, proud of their achievement.
Purely because I was in the classroom.
It's now even gotten to the point where I have an obvious "biggest fan"
A little girl who "boff-knots" me every time we cross paths, and occasionally asks for a hug, and on occasion has even said "I love you really" after pulling her silly little prank.
Yes, it might sound a little weird, but don't judge it, just see it as a sign that I've made a difference in those little kids' lives.
Because these are my kids.
These are the little people who still need a bringing up.
And that's why I call them my kids.
I help them in their final stages before they need to become more independent.
And I love it.

And then there's the year eights.
This is the year when the "rebels" shine through.
This is the year when suddenly sex makes sense.
This is the year when they ask the stupid questions to me.
So yeah, I have to shout sometimes to get them to work.
I have to be a little tough.
But yet they're still somehow fantastic at brightening my day.
Even if by the end of their lesson with me I just want to climb into bed and sleep off all the shouts.
But year eight contains my second biggest fan, ironically the sister of my biggest fan.
Year eight also contains the starts of social groups, and it's incredibly interesting to see them form as time goes by, and also the concept of "teachers are sexist, and always pick on the guys" makes total sense to me now.
I love teaching the students who want to do the best that they can do, and therefore often ask for my help to do it, and guess who these students are? Yeah, girls.
The only thing the guys of year eight want to do is piss off the teacher.
But hey ho.

So yeah, teaching.
A purpose in my life.
And a great purpose at that.
Making differences to kids' lives.
It's a fantastic feeling.
One of the best feelings ever.
And while I may complain about being lonely and such, I realise that this hole is partially filled by my hundred and fifty odd kids.
Excellent stuff.

Nanight.