…because I’m not sure.

It’s probably not news to the very few that actually read this blog that I was fired yesterday. I used the word fired because I was not let-go or any pretty variation of this word. Nope, I was fired. Because I messed up. And I haven’t denied it once which is why I’m willing to post this on my blog. I’ve always had a lot of respect for people to own up to their mistakes; I’d like to respect myself even if it’s just this one attribute.

Let me tell my story from beginning to end. There is a stomach virus going around the school (yes, another one). It makes 3 since I started working there. The first one was the day before Thanksgiving and because we were so short staffed I had to remain at work from 10 AM when it hit till 4 PM when I ran out of the room in the middle of a conversation with a parent to vomit in the restroom. At this point they finally let me go home. That’s 6 hours – FYI. The next stomach virus I had hit at about 2 AM thankfully. I say thankfully because I didn’t have to vomit at work. However, it was the worst virus I’ve ever contracted, and it ended up sending me to the hospital for abdominal pain and dehydration. It was rough to say the least. And it scared me…seriously. So, when this one hit, I was immediately nervous.

So, it hit at 9 AM. Roughly 15 minutes later one of my bosses came in (there are 2 – they do the same job). She immediately knew something was wrong when she looked at me, and so she asked. I replied that I felt like throwing up, and that I thought I had caught the virus going around. If you wouldn’t have guessed it from my previous paragraph, this school doesn’t react quickly to sending kids home who are sick and often let them come back before they’re better. In a place where everyone is touching, germs spread like wildfire. A crackdown on policy would really help to prevent this. But back to the story at hand. She didn’t seem too concerned about it and left. I only felt worse as time went on, and pretty soon, I was only comfortable when I was sitting down and being very still. My 2 bosses came in every now and then and would ask me how I felt though I seriously don’t think that’s why they popped in. Popping in is something they do all day throughout everyday. I gave them the same story every time – “I feel bad, and I want to throw up.” Around 10 AM our last student came in. I got up and greeted his mother who informed me that he missed school because he’d gotten the stomach virus. I told her I think it just hit me. She left and my assistant seated the boy at the table for snack. Shortly after sitting down, the child got up from his seat and ran across the classroom. My assistant was busy washing another child’s hands so I got up to go get the child. He’s a difficult child to handle though that’s not an excuse. I told him that no one is allowed to walk around with food, and he needed to return to the table. This happens all the time so it’s not a big deal. Except standing up makes me want to vomit. Halfway across the room the child decided to do spaghetti legs (or for those of you with no children – he just made himself go limp in the legs). In other words, the child refused to walk to the table. And I not in a correct state of thinking sort of drug him across the room. Not on his stomach, but just sort of pulling him along because the quicker he got in his chair the quicker I got to sit down. I’m not sure that in this moment I was even thinking. It was wrong. I still don’t deny it. And it shouldn’t have happened. However, I reacted how I did in the moment under the circumstances, and no matter what I do, I can’t take it back or re-do it. It is what it is. I’m human, and I’m not even that great of one to begin with. However, add me plus a virus, and I’m really not much to work with. I stand by this one fact: I shouldn’t have been at work. Back to the story…

The child’s mother had never left the school, and was watching the whole time. No, I didn’t do what I did because I thought she wasn’t watching. I did what I did because I wasn’t thinking….at all. I can’t say that enough. She came in to ask me a question about a cup. When this child sees his mother, he goes insane. Anytime. Even when she’s coming to pick him up. Let me define insane. He starts crying hysterically. He really cries to the point he seems petrified his mom won’t take him with him. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever witnessed in this kind of instance. When she came in, he did this right on cue. I picked the child up and tried to tell him that he needed to stay with us. I didn’t want the situation to be worse than it had to be. I wanted mom to be able to exit without having to peel her child off of her. I tried to distract him by taking him to the sink to wash his hands after snack. He wasn’t having it, and he started to thrash around, kicking and screaming hysterically. Sick or not, I did what I’d do with any child acting like that. I put him on the floor so he couldn’t hurt me or himself. After a few seconds, I picked him back up so we could try it again. I succeeded at washing his hands, and within a minute he was fine.

And so the day went on. I spent it on the floor letting the children climb on me and do whatever they pleased in regards to toys and such. I had to rely on my assistant to do all of the work. I wasn’t capable. It was somewhere in this time that I actually started to cry a little. Vomiting does that to me. I so didn’t want to throw-up there, and I was just miserable. I cried. Lame. I know. Jackson’s mom came to pick him up not long after she had left him there. I knew something was up, and I knew it involved me. At 12 PM I was summoned to the front office. I saw my the sheet indicating that I was being written up as soon as I walked through the office. They told me that the child’s mother had returned to retrieve her child and let them know that she was appalled and disgusted with the way that I had handled her child. As far as the dragging part goes, yeah I don’t blame her. I’d most definitely feel the same way if it were my child. However, the sink thing. That’s not my fault. She should be able to realize when your child is being difficult. I’m not a miracle worker; I’m only a child care giver. I was definitely guilty on the first account.

I was in the office for about 20 minutes. Things got heated. I was sick and emotional. And I spoke my mind. I was upset. I really don’t think that anyone should be made to work under these conditions. There aren’t sick days. What is a person supposed to do? Why does it take so many hours to get to leave when you’re clearly to sick to be there. I was told lots of things:

• sometimes you have to work through being sick (yeah preaching to the choir here – I’ve had a string of colds and have never called in – only when I was throwing up)
• if you worked at a public school job you wouldn’t even be able to leave to go to the bathroom (well, I don’t; and I used to be a sub and I never felt like I was forced to work under crazy conditions)
• they can’t magically make someone appear to relieve me (understood, but teachers still get sick so they should have a plan in effect to do such a thing – it’s not like we get these bugs from home)

I couldn’t stand it. I totally felt like they were bullying me. Yes, I did wrong. If they need to write me up to cover their asses, I would get that. But they never were sympathetic – they were only accusatory. They made me feel like everything was my fault – everything. They made me feel like if I couldn’t be superwoman, then maybe I couldn’t do my job. When they asked what I would do if the situation arose again. I stated that I would just sit in the corner and let my assistant be superwoman. I definitely not risk doing anything that would be deemed inappropriate. I’m wrong, yes, but aren’t I a liability to the school working under those conditions? Wouldn’t it be better if they covered their asses before situations arose rather than after? Or am I crazy? I was wrong, but is in fact all my fault? It definitely could be, but somehow that doesn’t tell the entire story.

We finally wrapped up the discipline section. I signed my sheet writing me up and was informed that any other instances like this and I was done. Fair enough. I returned to my room and about 5 minutes later my relief came. It was 12:30 PM, and I was finally able to go home where I needed to be. Around 3:30 PM my boss called to let me know “unfortunately” they didn’t think I was sorry enough and they didn’t feel comfortable that it wouldn’t happen again. I said what I could without begging, but that was that. For the first time in my life, I was fired. Awesome.

Am I sorry? You better believe it. But how do you show you feel sorry? Different people show it in different ways. I cried throughout the entire office visit, so I was clearly moved by the situation. I can’t go back and do it over. That’s not how life works. All I can do is assure them that indeed would never happen. If you never get a second chance then you never get to show you were sorry. Saying I’m sorry only goes so far. Proving you learned from a mistake goes a hell of a lot further. I feel like I stood up for myself while at the same time accepting the consequences for my actions as honorably as I could. I really don’t think it was the best time to have such a discussion. What more should I have to suffer through? Ok enough complaining. Let me tell you just how sorry I am. I have been guilt stricken since this happened. Beyond just me questioning if I should work with children at all, I have also questioned whether I’d even be a good mother. And why would Bryan still want me to be the mother of his children? I can’t seem to stop my brain from working and thinking. I am so truly sorry to such depths you can’t imagine, and yet I’m still only human.

I loved that job. LOVED! I didn’t dread going to work. But like all jobs, it’s hard to love every part of it. That’s where the administration fits in. I loved my job when the door was shut, and it was just me and my kids. I know I was a great teacher. And they knew it too. They had just named me March’s teacher of the month. I’m probably the only in history to receive this honor and be fired in one week. There’s got to be a little humor in that. 🙂

So, now I’m focusing on getting Perfectly Paleo off of the ground. I’m not even messing around. I really want and need this to succeed. It’s what I was hoping would someday become my full-time job; I just wasn’t expecting it so soon. I’m at the point where I feel like I need to create opportunities. They’re out there, and I want to discover them. I want to make my life better than it ever was before. And I’m hoping that this will continue so that when we have children I will still have time to be a mother and not have to enroll my child in a shitty school like I worked for.

That’s my story. I just didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me because they thought I got laid-off. If you still feel sorry for me – okay, and if you feel outraged at me – okay too. I’ve said my peace.