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Last year, as the school year wrapped up, I wrote:
“We survived mornings!” 
And so many of us related to that.
But you know what I didn’t focus on enough?
All those crazy mornings that we made by the skin of our teeth—
Who got the brunt of that?
 The teachers!
As parents, we have ONE goal:
GET. THEM. TO. SCHOOL.
By hook or by crook. Just get them there.  
Did they sleep? Meh.
Did they eat? Hopefully.
Did they do their homework? Unclear.
Do they have matching shoes? Not essential.
Who cares???!!
They got to school!
The kids can literally show up with their hair in a huge knot, half asleep, wearing yesterday’s dirty shirt—
and we’re celebrating, breathing a huge sigh of relief:
Phew, I did it. My job is done!!
The second they close that carpool door or step onto the bus—they are officially…
Not. Our. Problem! 
But wait.
Who’s picking up the pieces of our (sometimes dysfunctional!) parenting?
The teachers!
It’s the teachers who carry it all.
Since the first week of September, they’ve been stepping in where we’ve dropped the ball—
Not just for one kid—
For a whole class. Every. Single. Day.
As if their mornings always run perfectly.
As if they always had peaceful wake-ups, matching socks, perfect looking Bobby-pin hair or crimped shaitel and a healthy packed lunch.
Yet— They come in, ready to love, teach, and care for our children.
They are superheroes!  
I don’t know how they do it.
Today, let’s stop for a second—
Stand up, wherever you are—
And give a round of applause to the teachers, the Morahs, the Rebbeim  —
The ones who’ve caught everything we’ve dropped.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
 , Shifi, on behalf of all us parents!
(MAYBE FORWARD THIS TO A TEACHER OR REBBE YOU APPRECIATE…!)
… NOW is the big question: When can we throw out the notes/mathbooks/supplies/binders from this year?!
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