To sum it up.....

Tonight....I finished up all my school work. I felt accomplished in all I had to do in order to be ready for tomorrow.
And yet, as always there was something missing. I felt remiss.. My days feel empty if I don't do something for Athena.
Why is that?
Why is there a part of me that feels unsatisfied if I don't reach out to you Athena?
I feel this tug, this pull, at my soul, my heart strings, when I don't think about you before I lay myself down at night.
Something changes in you, alters you forever when you become a parent.
It doesn't have to be monumental, in the sense that you like discover the cure for cancer for your child or anything.
It can be something so mundane, so trivial, but without it, you are incomplete.  
As a parent I now understand so much, see so much that I didn't before.
I honestly can't grasp, can't comprehend how any parent could go a single day without speaking to their child! Reaching out to their child.....hearing their child...feeling their child...
To sum it up  Athena....I wish I could shield you ...I could protect you from everything I know...I see, I live.
But I can't. I cannot possibly prevent you from feeling all of life's realities...you are a product of my own decisions and for that I am sorry. But I am NOT sorry that we are where we are...
To sum it all up
HERE
WE
ARE
And
Honestly
There
IS
NOWHERE
IN THE
WORLD
I
WOULD
RATHER
BE
THAN
HERE
WITH
YOU

What they don't tell you....

So here is what I CAN tell you;
You are at meet the teacher. You quickly get a bunch of forms together for parents to fill out for this very quick and superficial meeting. You give a spiel whilst everyone violently fills up every blank line on those forms so as to give you all the info you think you need to get to know their kids as much as possible. You take pictures of their children to prepare for the first day and  try to capture what you can to gather any sort of inkling to give you a leg up about these new little people soon to fill the spaces in your room. You partake in very regular, normal, exchanges that first day. You can only gather so much and you can only give so much. Never in that moment can you really understand anything about each other.
Because....
Our stories...
They lie between the lines...
They rest in the spaces we do not see.
Today I called every single parent in my classroom.
I called them because I am a mom. I am a teacher AND  a mom. Not everyone has that amazing and awesome luxury and priveledge. I am blessed. I know this. If I want to know what Athena or how Athena is doing ...all I have to do is walk down a hallway...but my parents, I can just imagine them. Sitting at home, waiting with bated breath to make sure their child wasn't some sort of hellion, some misbehaved distortion of the reality they envisioned. Parents wanting to know if their child was all they thought they could be.
Here is what I can tell you that no one else does...
Parents worry.
Parents want to know you
Parents want to know they can talk to you.
Parents want a connection with you.
Parents have so much they want to tell you.
Sometimes you are the only person a parent can talk to.
And sometimes....
ALL
IT
TAKES
IS
ONE
PHONE
CALL
And that very phone call. Can change you. Both. Forever.
Maybe I have always known how important it was to listen to people and FEEL their ....pain...sorrow...happiness...joy...sadness...whatever it was they were feeling...but after having gone through Rice Storytelling, after hearing my OWN story through Houston Playback Theatre....somehow the importance of that was magnified times 100. Now when people speak, I don't try to rush them, I don't try to go through the motions, I listen. With my ears, my heart and my soul. I absorb their story. Will that make a difference in my students lives? In the lives of their parents? I don't know. But no one tells  you the profound impact it will have on your life.
I'm glad I know.
Screw the generic questionnaires ....I will be personally calling each and every parent for the rest of my teaching career....It's a beautiful thing...stories waiting to be heard....and all one has to do is dial a few numbers.....

Was it as good for you as it was for me?

My precious, beautiful, cantankerous little genius.....

Once upon a time something told me that there was an exceptional beginning inside of me. And that beginning was YOU. And from the moment I knew there was a  new being, new life, new start within me...I did what I could to make sure you loved books. I started reading to you from the MOMENT you were conceived. You know that books, words, stories, they have played such a fundamental role in bringing me to this point, to this place, maybe I shouldn't say brought me...perhaps I should say books brought me BACK to where I have always belonged. So it was only natural that if there was to be an extension of me.....a piece of me that would live on when I no longer could...that this piece could carry on what I thought was so magical about stories...to pass on to everyone they knew and crossed paths with how vital words are to our existence. How they enrich our lives, connect us to people, makes us question, ponder, believe, linger for, imagine, empathize, love, laugh, cry, and I could go on and on, but essentially, what I guess I am trying to say is that books, stories, words....they helped me live and I wanted you to know that. I wanted you to feel what I felt in the midst of a great story that tore me apart from literally EVERYTHING.  NeeNee...there have been books, I kid you not, that I have not done ANYTHING else but read them in  an entire day. I have devoured 1,000+ page books in a day or two. I will seriously reject all other human life form, food intake...personal hygiene...okay okay you're right maybe not all that...but NOTHING takes precedence over a good book (that is, until you have a child) MAN OH MAN....is it ever HARD to read with a small child....today I set the timer on your iPad and grabbed a book after I had ran a bath for myself, lit some candles, all that jazz...I said, " Athena when the buzzer goes off you can join me in the bath..." I set the timer for 15 minutes...enough to read at least 2-3 chapters in one of the books I was working on currently...1.5 minutes later you come strolling into my bathroom, having to pee, poop, contemplate the intricacies of the universe, talk about string theory....absolutely anything you could think of to just be in the same room with me. I just wanted a few minutes of silence to curl up to a delicious story. But YOU....you weren't having it. I said, "Athena, grown ups need to have at least a little alone time, just like I give you when you need it, otherwise they might go crazy and call Viola Swamp...." To which you responded, " Ugh, can I just poop? Anyways, I am talking to myself, not you. And AND FINE! I'll whisper!" How is this all connected to books? I will tell you how....you are 3 flippin years old ...talking to me like you were fifteen...that wouldn't be the case..had I not read to you from day one...and I literally mean day ONE...and kept that up to this day. They way you speak, express yourself, it's not normal ..or maybe it is and just not enough people know how powerful it is to pass on the love of words to your child. I have always kept you surrounded by books, you have seen me read, to you and to myself for sheer pleasure, to educate myself, to figure something out, to personalize an experience, you have seen me rustle through a dictionary when I didn't know a word and jot down in the margins of a book what a certain word meant, so that when I danced again with that book I wouldn't have to pause for formalities, we'd be old friends. I have witnessed you emulate all that I felt was important about books and our own personal story. I can't begin to attempt to find the words to express how moved I am for what I see has been absorbed into your mind and heart. I will tell you more about that another time ...this is where I want to end tonight. Look below for some pictures of how you are always surrounded by books....
I love you my darling..
Always
And
Forever...

This is roughly accurate to the number of books we check out each time we go to the library.

Books...on top of the kitchen counter...Ay Dio Mio!

Kitchen Bookshelf

Mami's Library

Isn't it beautiful...?

Your library! Even more beautiful

Creative Writing Camp

I had the amazing honor and pleasure of being a part of Rice University's SLC's Year Long Storytelling Project--this familiar place where I was nudged, gently reminded why I am a teacher. Especially. An. Early. Childhood. Teacher. I got to expose children to the power of words and how expressing these words, THEIR words, made them such powerful little people. They got to live everyday in my classroom knowing that words and ideas have this very tangible magic to bring people together, to unite them in a way that nothing else can. I saw children hover over my story taking clipboard, waiting with bated breath to see if they had made it into their friend's story. And I get emotional just thinking about the "Yessssss!!" fist pumping that would ensue when their name was in fact chosen to take part in dramatizing their classmates words. I promise you nothing in the world is more fulfilling and rewarding than witnessing the excitement of storytelling. The buzz that it all created in my classroom. The community that came to life right before my very eyes with words of love, praise, encouragement and understanding that all came about because of storytelling. And through this project I became a part of E.L.L.A --this was the SLC first ever cohort funded by Phillips 66 short for Early Literacy Leadership Academy. I will definitely write you more about that later, but for now know that because of both of these things and because I like to surround myself people who will make me better I was able to participate in Creative Writing Camp. This is a collaboration between Writer's in The School and Rice S.L.C. Athena....it is a dream. THIS is what school SHOULD be. THIS is how children should get introduced to books, reading and words. It should be an experience that involves their whole being and one that the teacher enjoys as much as the children. I just wanted you to know that it is all for you. I will show you more than I can tell you, but FOR NOW  this I can tell you because it is what I know....Stories, words, ideas turned into unforgettable moments, sentences, phrases that move you, impact your life ....your soul... THAT ,my dear, is what life is all about. Everyone has a story that someone wants to hear, needs to hear, wouldn't be the same without hearing. I am here telling you my story because this is exactly what I need to be saying, and telling it to exactly who needs to be hearing it. And I can only pray and wish and hope with every pore of my being that I am lucky enough to not just know and hear your story but be a part of it.

Too long...

Once upon a time a girl started to write, to write until her fingers could bear no more. She lived for the moments when she could lose herself in this delicious world of words and get in touch with a part of herself that no one else seemed to be able to get to. This girl would linger for the touch of the keys beneath her fingertips, the feel of a pen held tight between those three strong fingers which so adequately told the story of her life, the smell of the ink running from the pen. But somehow, somewhere, something happened which kept her from this destiny, from this place she called home. Something pulled her away from the only solace she knew. And yet no matter how far she pulled when she sprung back, she would do so with such fervor it brought chills to everyone she knew. She was infused with the spirit of writer who did so with such fluidity and facility that everyone would tell he she needed to never stop. Maybe that is why she was always somehow always pulled back into the world of words, maybe that's why when it had been too long her fingers seemed to take control to help her let it all go, maybe when it had been too long her soul just knew it was time for her to pour forth what her heart needed to say, maybe when it had been too long the Universe aligned itself to help the world hear her voice, her words, her story.
When it's been too long,
The Silence
Must STOP
Must be B     R   OOO   K   EEEEE NNNNN
When it's been too long
Too long
Listen