To adequately prepare yourself for this blog, you may want to look back to my blog in May 2011. When Cooper finished kindergarten, I was convinced there was no other teacher on the planet that could make our life as simple and wonderfully happy than Mrs. Johnson last year. Nope. No way. No how. I even stated something to the effect of "I will tell all future teachers that I adore them and that they are the best teacher EVER, but I won't mean it. I won't mean it, because Mrs. Johnson was the best teacher ever."
And... She WAS! Until we met Mrs. Bryant. Then there was some stiff competition. I quickly realized that we can have it both ways, have our cake and eat it, too, or whatever analogy you want to put on it. Mrs. J was perfect for us (yes, all of us) in kindergarten and Kendall has literally cried when I told her she very well may NOT get Mrs. J as HER kindergarten teacher. We even had to go visit Mrs. J when Kendall was with me at school this week. That said, I can't imagine a better teacher for Cooper's 1st grade year. And don't get me started on the assistant in the class, either. I mean, good grief... it was amazing. I love these women dearly and I only spent about 2 hours a week with them. I remember some very interesting characters in elementary school over at Ft. Craig, a "few" years ago. I don't remember too many warm and fuzzy teachers (well, except the guidance counselor, who literally handed out Warm Fuzzies). I'm sure my memory has faded a little since then, but one of the reasons I have loved our elementary teachers so much so far is that they truly LOVE my child. I mean, I know he's lovable (HELLO!), but they really love him. And I have seen some relatively not-so-easy to love kids in his classes and they LOVE them, too. I mean, literally, Mrs. B calls her kids "Love" when they ask her a question. She always has a hand on their back or their arm and I never heard her raise her voice.
My child went to school everyday and was welcomed into a loving, warm, happy environment. Every. Single. Day. So yes. I'm very sad. With each year that we have of blissful happiness, I worry that the next year is going to be just awful. But, then I remember which school we are at and my fears dwindle a bit. I couldn't look at the teachers in the eye today as we walked out. I had to leave as I felt my tears coming (I really don't cry pretty). I'm sure I'll watch Mrs. Bryant's year-end slideshow (complete with ridiculously sad music) at home later and cry like a first grader who missed out on one of those all-important warm fuzzies.
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