Triumph is mine.

Triumph (n): the joy or exultation of victory or success.

Example: when a self-professed hater of reading reads a book of poetry in two days, and then today, begs to continue independent reading because his book is so tight, and squeals in delight when given permission to read for another ten minutes.

Reading for the win - but Motormouth is the victor.

Always nice to be invited.

On Friday, I was standing in the hall before first period when Motormouth's sister SkateStar walked over to me. I had her last year as a sixth grader and we always got along well, so the combination of our own history and of my closeness with her brother means we chat a lot.

SkateStar asked me what I was doing that weekend. I said something about grading and meeting some friends, and asked about her plans.

"I'm having a birthday party."

"Ooh, happy almost birthday! How fun!"

She nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be great. We're going to Local Popular Skating Rink."

"Awesome! I assume by telling me, you're inviting me to the party," I joked.

SkateStar nodded again. "Of course."

I laughed. "Boy, wouldn't you and Motormouth be surprised if I actually showed up?"

"No!"

"Yes you would."

"Well, I would, a little....but not Motormouth. He's not invited. You really should come though."

I laughed. "Thanks for the invite but I'll pass....I think it would be weird if I came."

Just then, Motormouth walked up. "Weird if you came to what? What're you guys talking about?"

"Your sister just invited me to her birthday party. I hear you're not invited, though."

"What! You're inviting Ms. Teachin' and not me?!?!?!?" SkateStar smiled sweetly and nodded. "Aw, that's messed up. That's real messed up. For real - that's not cool." Motormouth walked into the classroom, still shaking his head and muttering about the situation. His sister laughed, gave me a hug, and skipped off to class. I went inside to teach.

Obviously I didn't go to the party. Would've been really weird. Plus I didn't want to rub it in to Motormouth any more. But it's always nice to be invited!

(Photo credit to smaedli)

The most ridiculously stressful day EVER. (Knock on wood.)

In addition to all the drama around this potential schedule change, I had two other incredibly disturbing things happen yesterday.

First thing in the morning I had this horribly awkward meeting. I don't feel I can go into what it was about specifically, but basically I had to sit there and explain to someone how they weren't doing their job, and list off all the reasons why, and let them defend themself, and then go over the evidence supporting my position AGAIN. Sososososo awkward. So that was a kickin' way to start the day.

But worse was what happened before third hour. I was doing hall duty when GLA (my grade-level administrator) walked up. "Do you remember the Charmer?" she asked.

Um, obviously I remember him. I looked at her. "Yeah....."

"Well, his new school called. He's missing. He didn't go home last night."

"WHAT???"

"They want to know if any of our kids might know anything, and I thought since kids will talk to you, maybe you can ask around ---" Before she was even finished talking, I'd grabbed the Charmer's two best friends who both happened to be walking by.

One, the Chowhound, already knew; the Charmer's brother had called him the night before when trying to find his missing sibling. But the Chowhound had no idea where the Charmer was. I pulled the kids into the library to talk to them while our teacher-librarian covered the start of my next class. The Charmer's other best friend, Motormouth, had the Charmer's new cell number, so he tried calling it to see if the Charmer would answer. Phone was disconnected. Great.

I asked question after question. Where would he go? Who else might know? Who might he call for help? Who might have seen him recently? We brainstormed names, places, possibilities. The kids texted, called, shared ideas. They were scared - really scared. I emphasized that we didn't know that anything was actually wrong, but that we needed to do everything we could to try to help. More names, more calls.

His counselor called me. I'd called her in September, just to check in on him. She'd left a message back that he was doing fine. Then three weeks ago, she'd called me, but though I called back several times and emailed, I never heard from her. At least she called in the crisis. I shared some info that the kids had told me.

An hour and a half later, they found him. Or I guess he found himself - he went home. Claimed he'd fallen asleep at a friend's house, hadn't woken up till 10:30, didn't know people were worried. Honestly, I don't buy that that's the whole story, but whatever. He's okay.

I'm hoping to get to talk to him at some point. When his counselor called, she said she'd told him that I'd like to talk to him. He was surprised, apparently. She asked if he wanted to talk to me. He said yeah, he guessed so. From him, that's pretty much a hell yes, so hopefully we can make that happen.

Oh, it was a fun twenty-four hours.

(Photo credit to Greg Westfall.)

Black eye.

Not literally (well, I hope not - I did actually somehow manage to smack myself hard in the right eye. A refrigerating closing incident that I still don't understand. I can see out of it again, now that half an hour has passed, and it's only moderately swollen, so hopefully tomorrow it'll be normal). But I'm not having my best day ever.

Perhaps yesterday's hubris (doing well, I said. Hah!) caused today's ruckus, but LORD my 8th period drove me crazy. I didn't yell, but I was pissed, and all lecture-y, and they knew it. Which isn't really any better, though I suppose it's at least easier on the eardrums.

The class changed dramatically today (seven new kids, pulled mostly from other periods but one new totally) to try to better provide services for some kids who need them. And the new dynamics are not ideal. I'll have a new seating chart tomorrow, and fingers crossed that will help, but right now bleah.

Plus I am totally losing with the Charmer. I wrote him a letter after the last incident and dropped it off at his house, but no one was home so I had no way to know if he'd gotten it. I have two of his best friends this year, though, and one, Motormouth, said he'd give the Charmer another copy.

This morning, Motormouth gave the letter back. "He said to tell you he doesn't want it."

I looked at him. "Did he read it?"

"Yeah, he read it, but then he said he doesn't want it."

Sweet. So I took the letter back, because what else was there to do?

The only upside is that I'd included a business card with my contact information, including my cell (he'd had that already, from last year, but I figured it couldn't hurt to throw it in again), and that he kept. I don't think he'll use it ever, he's just not that kind of kid, but at least he has the means with which to do so.

But clearly he just wants me to leave him alone and I don't see that I have any other choice.

So between my two failures of the day, I'm feeling a little down. I'm going to go take my dogs for a walk. Hopefully that will help.

(Photo credit to heyjoewhereyougoingwiththatguninyourhand)