ABC, easy as 123... Or is it?

Lately I've been feeling really upset about roadkill. It must be awful to be hit so intensely that your body actually explodes. Somebody needs to have a conference for wildlife and be like "Those large, loud machines on four wheels...yeah, you won't win that race" But unfortunately wildlife can't talk. Or listen. Glad to clarify that for you in case you weren't aware.
School- I'm upset. I'm upset with parents who don't send their children to school with food or coats or love. It's not fair. Every child deserves to be loved! And some of them just AREN'T. They aren't cherished or taken care of or taken responsibility for. When an 8 year old forgets to do their homework? I mean, my mom sat with me every day and we did my homework together. I sat at the table as she cooked dinner. Some kids are watching their parents do crystal meth, I wouldn't do my homework either! I didn't know teaching would be like psychology. I take on the burdens of 24 little children every day. When they mess up in school and are clingy, what am I to them? It is super tough to love all of them all the time. I didn't birth them! But I worry about them. I wonder what it's like at their house. Why are parents recently super messing up their children? :( My poor little class. So while I fully intended to plan Math and Green/Red band and modify some BCR's (For you none MSA generation that is breif constructed response aka essay) but I just FELL asleep on the couch for two hours. I remember my fateful professor Teena who dedicated an entire period of the semester to stress management. I didn't get it. I get it now. Teaching= emotional exhaustion. Each child requires attention that I can't give in the time that I have. Which then leads me to stress eat. And while my husband is busy burning off the fat at bootcamp, I am EXTRA busy packing on the stress pounds. I was sitting on the couch and just wishing that when I came home he would be sitting in the recliner ready to listen to me vent about my day and then encourage me. But he's not. He's gone and I can't call him. I'm sure he feels the same way. Some days I feel like saying to my class "My husband is gone, can you just please behave? I am an emotional black hole" But children think teachers are robots and get freaked out when they express emotion beyond anger at calling out. Think back... did you ever see a teacher cry? I bet it rocked your world.
Example: Ms. Battiligni-sixth grade-middle of the Mesopotamia unit-never figured out what it was about...still wondering.
I miss my husband,
Kaley