Some of the ones I love most. Teaching takes up a whole lot of time, but frankly, for the first time since I started teaching AT ALL whether it was in my major or in my career, I have time to do things BESIDES write lesson plans or panic because the lesson plans still aren't written.
It's glorious.
GLORIOUS.
So what do I do with all this ample spare time? Well the first thing I do is let you know that "ample" is a gross exaggeration, but let's think of the glass as half full. We'll say ample.
The other thing I do is love people.
I love Paul. We go on walks and talk about the future and our game plan and instill in each other the confidence necessary to move the mountains in front of us. And we admire, without ANY reservation, how dang cute our Lovey-girl is.
I love Grace. We go on walks too, and freeze our cheeks and look at the sky. Then we dance to some more Broadway tunes and she doesn't mind that my voice isn't quite as good as the one on the radio. But by golly, I sing my heart out for that kid. And we try more new foods. Like green beans. Grace has a low tolerance for green beans. The first 6 bites were good. Then she did this shuttery gag thing which I interpreted as meaning that she was done. In short. She liked them for 6 bites and then she hated them. And that seems like a normal way to handle a new food, even for a grown-up.
I love my mom. I call her. A lot. For like 12 minute intervals. And we talk about her and we talk about me and we talk about being moms and being teachers and being friends. And then we tell each other that we better go because it's time to go love someone else. 12 minutes seems to be the perfect amount of time. As long as there are TONS of 12 minute chunks.
I love my sisters. I call them, or visit. And we laugh. And we cry. And we talk about how to be better moms and better wives and why we love our children and our husbands. And we confess our mistakes and our fears and take solace in the fact that we aren't the only ones making those same mistakes or battling those same fears. We take care of each other. And that's really saying something because technically, my sisters are sisters-in-law with their very own "real" sisters but they claim me anyway and it means the world to me.
And I love my friends. My other sisters. The giants of women in my life. Who I will sit next to on rocking chairs one day, and we'll laugh, and we'll cry, and we'll remember, and we'll glory in the gift that we are to each other.
And somehow the lesson plans get done, too.
But only AFTER I flirt with Paul.
Shamelessly.
