It’s a snuggle with Hufflepuff sort of day… Ok every day is a snuggle with Hufflepuff sort of day, so it’s a cry into her quills sort of day. It’s not as comforting as I needed to be, but her quiet warmth in the presence of my inner turmoil is soothing at least.

Besides an above-average deluge of complaining from students, two students in particular said the meanest thing that has ever been said to be in the entire history of student saying mean things to teachers. One student was joking. The other was serious.

For several hours I was able to maintain the facade of hero teacher mode. Swift discipline, log notes, calls home, a mandatory apology note, even a profusion of love after the swift discipline to let them know that the offenders were forgivable. Teachers are impervious to meanness, after all.

But once the final bell rang, I caved and did something I’ve only done one other time in my teaching career–I meandered into my office, closed the door, and had myself a good cry with my back pressed up against the door. I let the tears spill from my eyes onto the gap of ankle between sock and shoe. I felt my warm tears turn cold on the lining of my sock and let sad wash over me. I leaned into the sad, and it leaned back. Me and the emotions, we propped each other up.

Lest I be accused of only publishing the good about my job and my life, let it be known some Momma somewhere said there’ll be days like this… and there ARE.

Today was a hang nail and a stubbed toe.

Today was a squished snail on the pavement or a beetle in your apple juice.

Today was burnt toast and soggy burritos.

But after a solid cry, a lot of Hufflepuff, a tiny nap, and The Shirelles on repeat, I’m ready to say a slightly puffy “Do your worst” to tomorrow. Maybe just sans one soggy burrito.