Glass Half, What?

I’m thankful to be married to a school psychologist because he gets my end of the year jitters. Unlike some of people I know that think educators coast the last two months of school year, he knows the truth. Standing in our kitchen on Saturday morning before our children woke up we were comparing notes of all that we needed to do in ours schools before the school year ended. Our lists went on and on. We both were feeling overwhelmed by both work and our children’s schedules that morning. I often feel the end of the school year feels as if it is on fast forward, and I am moving at a snail’s pace.

During this end of year conversation with my husband, Jim was trying to put batteries in a new gadget we bought to help in training our dog. He finally found the mini screwdriver to open the panel to put in the batteries. He opened the drawer where we keep our AAA batteries, and laughs sarcastically. “That’s my life right now. Finding three batteries when I need four.” I got what he was saying, since I tend to be a pessimist. He however, tends to be the glass half full type of person. I was a bit surprised by his comment, but the end of the school year does strange things to people.

We went about out Saturday morning, coaching and attending soccer games, meeting the new neighbors, running numerous errands and making lunch for our two picky eaters. In the afternoon we planned to go to the carnival held by our church. It is a fund raising event, so we felt obligated to go. We felt we had so many other things to do for work and for our home. To say the least, Jim and I did not leave the house in a carnival mood.

When we arrived at the carnival we found a parking spot right away. I thought, well that was lucky. Since, the area was teeming with people. As we walked to the fair grounds we were met by friends happy to see us. They were waiting for us, even though I texted we would be an hour late. As we walked around, we were greeted by others we haven’t seen in months because of our cold wet winter. It felt like one reunion after another. I noticed Jim and I were smiling more, even laughing. We watched our children and their friends enjoying the rides and games, joked with the parents of our children’s friends, which assisted in forming more friendships of our own.

Time passed and it was time to leave. Jim, myself and the kids trudged to our car carrying our bounty of useless prizes. We buckles our seat belts and looked at each other with tired smiles. We may only have three batteries when he need four, but it was plenty. We have each other. We just needed to walk away from the to-do list for a moment to remember that.