Today was the crown jewel in the tiara of shit that was my week.

For reasons I won't get into in this forum, the math teacher on my team has been reassigned to another part of the building. This left Anna and me to hold the fort. Which was fine. Except for the Anna being 39 weeks pregnant part.

Last Sunday morning, I am thrilled to say, she gave birth to a completely adorable son, looked far better than I did that afternoon despite the fact she'd been in labor for 20 hours and hadn't slept yet while I had gotten a solid 10 hours the night before. She and her husband seem deliriously happy and I am so excited for them that I have a hard time not calling every day to hear how the baby is.

But I digress. You see, shortly before this gorgeous baby joined the population of Central Svalbard and Jan Mayen, we were helping the kids get adjusted to our new math teacher who is a lovely gal but who the kids are giving, how shall we say, a massive shit sandwich every day. Things were improving a little when Anna went into labor.

So now it's me and two subs on the third grade team. This is fine because both are nice people and work hard and are very easy to get along with and work with. But here's the super weird part. And I don't know why I find it weird, because I should have expected it. All the kids come to me only.

So here's how this works. I'm at recess and there's a fight. The kids come to me. Someone wants to show me their poem. They come to me. A girl finds there is graffiti in the girls' restroom, she comes to me (even when she's in another class mind you).

Walking into the cafeteria I have a small glimpse of what it is to be Brad Pitt. They flock to me like I am a Jonas Brother. Like they are all premenstrual and I am a fountain of chocolate fondue. Like I am the last keg during March Madness. The last well in the Sahara Desert (We are in fact studying Mali right now).

"Can I go to the bathroom?"
"Can I take her place cleaning the tables?"
"Can I dump my trash?"
"Tyshaun was eating with his mouth open."
"Molly didn't eat her lunch."
"I have to go to the office."
"My tooth is loose. Want to see?" The answer to which is always no because while blood does not bother me, teeth I find preternaturally disgusting.

So then I get them in line and we get back to the rooms. And all is well. But it's not because the ones who are not with me start to get all feisty.

Monday was ok. Rocky and 1,000 questions from the sub, but ok. The one class ate the math teacher with fava beans and a nice Chianti. But we got through it. Lots of time out at recess.

Tuesday it accelerated. Now it was a whole collection of silent lunch sitters. But nothing too too out of control.

Wednesday there were some serious Come to Jesus Talks. This is when I take the child aside and explain how it's going to be and what will happen. There are often tears. Usually appologies. Always hugs and then promises.

Yeah. So much for the promises. Thursday two of my boys got in a fight and got suspended.

Today there was no snow (oh how I longed for a two hour delay!!) so the kids came in pissed and ready to rumble. They amped and amped until there was a problem in one class with an assistant and now I am down to me. And two subs. But mostly me. The pincushion of questions and nagging.

I say this with a certain level of bewilderment. Because in my room, there is calm. There is work, there is laughter. In my room we read together, we talk and we tell gross stories (because they love that stuff). But as soon as we leave the room it's like we've entered the Twilight Zone.

But I realized what was happening. Basically the deal is this. I am a single parent of 51. And then I come home 4 days a week to be a single parent of 1. And this is a little tiring. So I think it is time that I do what most single parents do and drink more heavily. And if that isn't what they do, I don't want to know so don't tell me!!!