“Thank you, Mrs. Russsssimah!” You gotta love it when kids shout out your name, even if it is pronounced incorrectly. It’s been days, and I still mentally revisit my Friday afternoon and smile. And who wouldn’t when that Friday includes reading a story to a thoughtful, energetic, keep-you-on-your-toes batch of giggly second-graders?

I had the absolute pleasure of being a guest reader for Mrs. F’s class at Robert C. Fisler School. If you’ve never heard of this school, do yourself a favor and Google it. It’s modern, tech-focused, diverse, and, well, beautiful.

Mrs. F is the kind of teacher we all wanted in second grade (or any grade, for that matter). She is bubbly, full of ideas, witty, and has passion for what she does. She creates Promethean flipcharts from which students learn lessons, she invites guests to her classroom to help with student art projects, and she plays games with her class.

On the particular day I was there, she played 20 questions with her students. The class can ask 20 questions in order to figure out who the mystery guest reader is. Once all the questions are asked, the reader can enter the room and the storytelling can commence!

The storytelling did commence—with Chris Van Allsburg’s Jumanji. Being a huge fan of Van Allsburg, I couldn’t help but pick one of his masterpieces. And lucky for me, they enjoyed the storyline, as well as the vivid, realistic pictures. Admittedly, Mrs. F and I were concerned that the reading level might be too advanced, but this wasn’t the case. Here and there, I defined or explained various words. And they, too, asked questions. Together, we “oohed” and “awed” over the game’s twists, turns, and characters, which include a fierce lion, a curious collection of monkeys, and a slithering python. One student asked, “Why does the python match the furniture?” And another student promptly piped up with, “He has camouflage!” Talk about insightfulness and intelligence—and, remember, these are second-graders!

We wrapped up the reading with some final questions: Why is it bad that the boys took the game? (They don’t read instructions.) What will happen as a result of them not reading the instructions? (They won’t know to finish the game.) So what will stay in the house? (The monkeys! The lion! The lost guide! The python! The rhinos! The rain!) It was great fun, to say the least.

But aside from the fun, laughs, and all-around surprise from this experience, I learned a very valuable lesson: Don’t ever underestimate students, not even for a second—because the moment you do, you’ll find yourself absolutely dumbfounded. Students are more thoughtful, perceptive, and clever than ever before.

As teachers, maybe this is something you’ve already learned. Maybe it’s an idea you mastered years ago and now consider it to be “the norm.” But for someone who is currently out of the classroom, it was quite a shocker. It was also a real moment of pride. To be able to witness excitement in students’ eyes and to be able to see the passion that drives a good teacher—well, it’s no wonder I had such an amazing day, now is it?

About two months ago, my husband and I bought a fixer-upper. When we signed away, we knew we had our work ahead of us. No one had lived on the property for over a year, and the lack of love and attention showed. The appliances didn’t work, there was brown water coming out of every faucet, and the walls were infested with bugs. But we had a plan. We had a list! We even had a budget. We thought we were good to go. Oh, how we thought wrong.

As soon as we closed escrow, we did what any average, new condo-owners would do: we gutted the downstairs. We tore out the cabinets, sink, countertop, and appliances in the kitchen; we stripped down the bathroom to nothing but pipes; and we ripped out the existing flooring. (Needless to say, the bugs found a new home.) Then we (we = I) cried. The downstairs looked awful—it seemed like we’d never get it to look like a livable space again.

A few days later, our wood floors were installed throughout the downstairs. They looked beautiful! They stayed beautiful, too—until two weeks after the install when we had a terrible flood in the kitchen. The flooring had to be gutted and re-laid. The plumbing had to be fixed. The wallet had to be emptied.

Yesterday, I discovered a leak coming from our outside patio into the interior track of the sliding glass door. Rainwater had filled the track, and somehow sludge and earwigs had made their way in there, too. All I could do was heave a deep sigh and then go grab some paper towels, a plastic bag, and my trusty bottle of Windex (my cleaner for everything).

So why am I sharing some of my home-renovation woes with you? That’s easy—I know you can relate! As teachers, you renovate every day. Whether it’s a dated lesson plan or a jaded student, you take something that needs work and turn it into something worth showing off. You are constantly adjusting and improving the classroom experience for your students, much like I am restoring and redecorating my living environment.

How do you do it? Or, better yet, how do you do it so gracefully? And, more so, how do you do it every day of the week? How do you not become overwhelmed by all the changes you want to make?

Like some of your renos, I presume, the plan we began with has been replaced with reality. Our list grows longer every day, though we are crossing lines off. And the budget my husband and I had set is now something we laugh about. (Does money evaporate out of your wallet, too?) But the good news is that our home is beginning to feel like a home. At the end of the day, this is where we want to relax and, if needed, clean out sliding glass door tracks, unclog tub drains, install ceiling fans, or . . . Some renos are just worth it, don’t you think?

In this case, a very small percentage