That's it - I'm Mrs Aarayan now, and *I* am a Real Teacher. 32 11 year-olds think so, so it must be true.
All weekend before the Monday I was, how shall I say.... a miserable git. Just feeling terrified, negative: "I can't do it, I don't even know if I want to do it, I can't cope".
The news early on Friday morning, just as I was starting to feel like it *might* just be ok, that I was to have a new boy, with extremely complex additional needs, and who would bring my class total to one under the legal limit, put me on somewhat of a downer.
So, I worried myself sick, irritated my husband beyond belief and dragged myself up and out the door at 6.45am on Monday morning, to begin what I was sure would be the first day of a truly crappy career. However, as is so often the case, I was wrong.
Yes it's definitely going to be difficult, but it's going to be ok - I'm earning the class's respect and reaping rewards in generally good behaviour. I'm managing not to take bad behaviour personally and set appropriate sanctions and rewards, and I'm making my class a positive, effective learning environment for the children who want to learn.
I am confident that I will have plenty of stories to tell, albeit deeply anonymised, because this is certainly going to be an interesting year if nothing else.
The first battle is won - never again will I have to endure the build up and the dread of that first bell on my first ever day as a teacher. I've started on the treadmill and I've survived. And more importantly, I'm starting to believe that I may actually be a real, live teacher.
Let's wait and see....