And just like that, I'm a licensed teacher.
After paying some $700 in application and testing fees (not counting the cost of the whole graduate degree and all), the good state of Connecticut has seen fit to grant me an interim initial educator's certificate that will become an initial educator's certificate assuming I passed the exam I took last week. Which I suppose ought not be assumed.
It's funny jumping right back into again--especially getting back in touch with people I haven't spoken to since I was student teaching, which is also when I was secretly IVFing (or fretfully gestating) on the side. People are surprised to hear from me, and especially surprised to hear that I am the mother of two and now living in the suburbs. I sometimes feel like sometimes I need to explain myself--that the path wasn't as American Dream-y as it may seem--but I'm not sure how to do that without sounding ungrateful.
When last I wrote (cripes--a whole month ago), I said that I hoped for the courage to hold my breath and leap when the time comes, and as I've begun to apply for teaching jobs, I feel I'm at that point. The kids have been in the loop to some extent, and The Girl is already lobbying to do aftercare at the Y so she can take gymnastics. The Boy is unenthusiastic at the prospect of any change in his routine. I wring my hands a lot and wonder how so many other people get through a daily life that combines work and family without hyperventilating.