What Teachers REALLY Do on Snow Days

         My students think I get disappointed when school is not in session.  When I tell them at dismissal, "We might not have school tomorrow--so sad--and if that's the case, you will have extra time to..."

        I add a wink in when I express how regretful I will be if we get a snow day.  My brighter kids get my true intentions before the wink even happens.  Some of my slower kids try to argue with me, telling me they think it would be great if school was called off. 

        Don't get me wrong.  I enjoyed our holiday break.  I would have loved to have another few days tacked onto it, but I was genuinely glad to see my kids when January 3rd rolled around.

        However, snow days are another thing...

        Snow days are like a gift from the gods.  They are an unexpected day to do...whatever.  Snow days are a nod from above, telling us 'We know you lead too hectic of a life, so here's a span of time, and life as you know it is suspended for one whole day.'

photo by Wowpictures

       This is what my students probably think I do when I am not at school:

• use sharpie markers to make the circles under my eyes darker
• comb the hair (gray!) that has the ambition to become a full-blown mustache
• practice my broom-flying skills
• devise new ways to torture them through writing and math assignments

      However, when this morning rolled around, the possibility did not look too hopeful. At 3:30, the snow did not look too deep.  Would there be enough inches on the ground to cancel school?  Or, would I have to drag myself to work, surly, because I had counted my snow day before it had hatched arrived?

       This is what I really did this morning:

4:00 A.M.  Turned on the TV, even though the "real" (main") closings don't begin until an hour later. 
4:02  Switched channels several times.  No mention yet...Went back to sleep.
5:00  Turned on the TV again.  After looking at several channels, I have the schools--the ones that are close alphabetically to my district-- memorized, and when mine is skipped over, I groan.
5:00-5:19  Kept changing the channel on the TV, trying to find the station that would deliver the good news first.
5:20  I see my district's name at the bottom of the TV screen.
5:20:2  I scream and jump into the air.
5:21  I watch again, to make sure it was not a mirage.
5:22  I call the teacher "below" me on the phone chain, and then I call several other teachers (just because I want to share the good news).  
5:25  Hug the dogs extra tightly, and tell them what a fun day it is going to be for them.
5:30-7:00  Read "The Help" until I only have 70 more pages til the end.  I decide that will be my afternoon "treat."
7:00 Shout at my (now awake) husband:  "No school today!"  He rolls his eyes, mutters something under his breath, and tries to escape my squealing and shrieking.

Later on in the day, I ate a few things (nothing bad, which was miraculous), did some knitting, did a session of our new exercise program (only lasted for 30 minutes; the hour was impossible to even contemplate) and finished "The Help."

photo by Christina007

       So tomorrow, unless we get a bunch more snow dumped on us tonight, we'll be back in school.  We'll have our normal routine, and that's a good thing, because I'm glad to have the 25 kids I have. I'm grateful for the job I have.  But I definitely enjoyed this day of playing hooky...

photo by Shutterbee by Liz