My school reports are done and dusted (bar the final preview and print) for another semester.
As Magoo would say "iz dun, Mum".
Despite the fact that they consume me, I love writing reports.
I'm a teacher nerd. And proud of it.
When I'm in report mode I think in reporting language.
I phrase responses in that 'teacher tone' and then have to filter them to sound half normal.
I spend a lot of time invested in 'getting it right' and pore over results, tables and data.
I tip tap away every night and curse the programmers who make the system so user-hostile.
I think very carefully about how my comments will appear to parents and try (oh-so-hard-sometimes) to put a positive spin on some harsh realities.
I love how there is so much genuine progress to report at this time of year and how close I've become to so many of the fabulous kids I'm writing about.
For all my other countless inadequacies, I write a mean report.
If I may say so myself.
(As in relatively well written, not nasty mean.)
That said, the afternoon that I finished my reports (or thought I had. Damn you edits.) I paid a stack of bills, tidied the study, made a decent meal - from scratch you hear, ordered our Christmas cards, made a bunch of lists and started my Christmas shopping.
I reclaimed some much needed head space - 'cause there ain't that much to go around here!
I've pretty much been able to focus on Master Magoo and reports - and not much else - in recent weeks.
As much fun as being in front a computer programme with a razzle dazzle name (intended to trick us into thinking that spending many nights and weekends in it's company is an exciting prospect) is, I feel freeeeee today.
Free to get into the festive spirit and get geared up for the bulging calender that sits before me.
Free to start cracking the whip on this renovation business.
Free to get into the great outdoors and do some
Free to actually watch something on Hubby's new
Free to find that party frock to carry me through the next month or so.
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