I'm Soooo Tired!

I'm exhausted.  I started a new job on Thursday at a local elementary school.  I'm a Title 1 Assistant, which means that I'm actually a Title 1 Teacher, but the district is too cheap unable/unwilling to pay teacher salary for this job, so they are calling it an assistant position in order to get away with paying the instuctional assistant, 29.5 hour a weeek, hourly wage instead.  Yeah....I sort of found that out the hard way.  I don't mind the job when I'm there-in fact, I think it will be kind of nice once someone has time to train me I figure out all by myself what's expected of me.  I'm working with groups of kids K-4, basically moving from place to place every 15-30 minutes, back and forth throughout the building.  Maybe I'll lose weight!  All of that is good, I certainly don't have time to get bored, and I enjoy working with the kids, but oh my.....the planning.  The.  Planning.  I've spent at least 4-5 hours yesterday and today working on lesson plans for next week.  Unpaid hours, of course.    Yes, if I were a salaried teacher, the hours of lesson planning and materials gathering is just an understood part of the job, but I'm not.  So, I'm whining about it.  But only at home, on Facebook, and here.  Keeping the smiley, perky, "just happy to be part of the team" on at work.  Anyhow, enough negativity.  I'll just stop and not mention the fact that I've already spent nearly $80 on supplies.  I had to buy my own stinkin' paperclips!

So, it's Saturday evening.  My son had an 8 am basketball game this morning, so no sleeping in for us, I'm up to eyeballs in laundry, I've grocery shopped and done my lesson planning.  I'm trying to get all of this done now, because, did I mention? I still have to work at my old job (the tutoring company) for the next two weeks on Monday and Wednesday evenings, too.  I'm stressing out, and exhausted, and my husband's frustrated advice of "Just quit, then!" isn't helping.

Enter some comedic relief.  My son, who had been peeling and eating a clementine at the kitchen table, comes over and grabs a freshly washed and folded washcloth off the coffee table (I tend to spread my folded laundry all over the table as I sit on the couch).  After he wipes his sticky face with it, he takes it to the table to clean up his mess.  He brings it back, clementine pieces hanging on to it and all, folds it neatly ( I had no idea he even COULD fold that neatly!), and sets it carefully back on the pile of clean washcloths.  This is the boy who never remembers on his own to put anything away.  I had to laugh-he was trying so hard to be helpful, since he could tell I was tired and stresed.  I guess I could put him to work folding the clean clothes...