Challenge

I've been warned.
I've been warned that my chosen career will drive me up a wall.
I've been warned that Children cry and get into stupid fights and have runny noses and always, always, always, need attention:
"Miss Michelle, watch me on the slide!  Look how good I fold my hands!  Miss Bennett, see my nice handwriting?  Miss Bennett, I need a pencil, I need a band-aid, I have to go to the bathroom, she hit me, he stuck his tongue out at me, I want to play with my friends, I want to draw."
But you know what?  I like it.  All of it.

I should have known that every day I'd go home exhausted.
I should have known that every day my head would ring with the sounds of a hundred battles.
"You need to pay attention, please follow directions, be kind to your friends, leave the woodchips on the ground, no you may not take that bug inside, it's time to be quiet."
But guess what?  I still like it.  From A to Z.

Here's a good one.  Two weeks ago:
I'd been warned that this little guy is a Handful.
I'd been warned by the raised eyebrows and implicative looks of the teachers.
I'd been warned by the spelling of the word "T-A-N-T-R-U-M" and mouthing of the word "Screamer."
I'd been warned, and I met him with a wide grin that masqueraded my apprehension.
But you know, when he started screaming so hard his lungs almost came out his throat, something in my mind kicked in and all I could think was, "poor guy," and I did what needed to be done.
I should have known that my years of education would come through for me.
I should have trusted in the reason I became a B.A. in the first place.

Here's today:
I've been warned that the new girl is a Wreaker of Havoc.
I've been warned by the report of her history of violence.
I've been warned by the defiance in her stare and in her lips.
I've been warned by her emphatic "NO!" and her forceful, spit-watered words.
I've been warned by the 40-minute time-out vigil (a ritual that was ended with the utterance of one small, simple word, "Sorry").

But you know what?  All that does is make me smile a more determined smile.
I won't allow the warnings to get to me--I'll just take them in stride.
I won't look at the danger signs and think, "Lost cause--pack up, go home."
I'm stronger than this wonderful little girl.
I'm more stubborn.
I will win.
I will win because I have to win if she is to have a fighting chance in the world.
You see, that's my Job.

But you know, it's a bit more than a job.  It's rather a Calling.
Despite the warnings, despite the signs, after all the battles and exhaustion and frustration, there's still nothing I'd rather do.
Did you hear me?  There's nothing I'd rather do.
You're right, that is not normal.
There's got to be something pumping into me that kind of passion and energy.
Someone's got to have had this planned out.
Why else would I cling to the thin thread of hope that there is Goodness and Change in even a Handful, even a Wreaker of Havoc?
Why else would I, rational being that I am, risk my sanity to take on challenge after challenge, day after day?
Why indeed?