☕ Coffee, Chaos, and the Teacher Strike ☕

We survived the first week of the teacher strike… barely.

If you’re out there running on caffeine and chaos, splitting up sibling fights, and counting down the minutes until bedtime — you’re my people. It’s been hard. It’s been loud. There have been tears, yelling, and at least one questionable parenting choice involving extra screen time and ice cream as breakfast. I’m just trying to crawl out alive… and it’s only been a week.

Don’t get me wrong — I love my kids. With every ounce of my soul. But I’ll admit it right now: I am not a teacher, and I don’t ever want to be. I don’t have the patience, the calm voice, or the ability to make fractions sound fun. I can wrangle cattle, run a combine, and manage three kids and a farm — but teaching long division? That might be where I draw the line.

Our days lately look like this: the girls arguing over who gets the “good” pencil, Cyrus screaming for my milk jugs in the background, and me trying to Google “educational activities” while sipping my fourth cup of coffee. The kitchen island has turned into a makeshift classroom, complete with crayons everywhere, glue on my counter, and a very unimpressed dog who’s just trying to nap through the madness.

And honestly? I miss school. The kids miss school. We all miss the routine — the structure — the quiet. The teachers who somehow manage to keep 25 (or more) tiny humans focused for six hours a day deserve medals. Gold ones. With sparkles. And a lifetime supply of Starbucks gift cards.

I don’t even pretend to fully understand what’s going on between the government and the teachers’ board, but what I do understand is this: our teachers deserve more support. They carry so much on their shoulders — managing classrooms, supporting special needs, dealing with behavioral challenges, marking assignments, planning lessons, and doing it all with smiles that hide exhaustion.

Meanwhile, us parents are at home trying to fill that gap — and realizing real fast that this whole “homeschooling thing” is not for the weak. The teachers have been doing it with grace and patience long before we were thrown into this chaos.

So please… for the love of every tired parent out there and for the sake of my sanity — give the teachers what they want. Let them go back to doing what they do best — teaching our kids — and let us go back to doing what we do best — surviving on caffeine, chaos, and a prayer.

Until then, I’ll be over here hiding in the bathroom with my coffee, pretending I can’t hear the latest argument about who gets the blue marker.

Author’s Note ☕

Written from the kitchen table during week one of the teacher strike — surrounded by cold coffee, half-eaten snacks, and the sound of two sassy girls arguing over who gets the pink marker, because apparently they both need it at the exact same time. This post is powered by caffeine, chaos, and the desperate hope that school resumes soon.