My mom is #2 on my speed dial (voicemail is #1 of course). Next is Dad at #3 and my brother, Brad, at #4. Josh used to be #8 but after we got married I felt it was time for a promotion. Now he is #5. Sorry babe but that is the best I can do. While out to dinner on Tuesday I ended up with three missed calls; one from #3, #4, and #2, in that order. When I checked my voicemail I had a message from each and they were so sweet in their familiarity that tears came to my eyes. Dad’s message started the same way it always does- with a drawn out “Heeey sweetie…” Brad’s began with a deep, but childlike “Hey sister” and mom’s with her chipper “Hey baby girl!’. These are the monikers given to me by three of the most important people in my world. I love how predictable and comfy those simple pet names can make me feel. I am so loved.
Wednesday I had my first challenging moment as a teacher. A student in my first block was inconsolably upset. She was standing right outside my classroom, crying and crying. Her tears prevented her from talking; she made no other sounds, just big fat tears rolling down her anguished face. It was heart wrenching. I couldn’t help but add a tear or two of my own. I just cannot watch others cry without crying myself. Later that day she came by class to get her stuff and on her way out she turned and thanked me for comforting her. Then she popped her head back in and said she was sorry to make me cry. I could have cried again right then and there. I felt so…admonished. This poor 16 year old girl with all her troubles was worried about my stupid inability to control my own emotions. I gotta get a grip on this thing, y’all. There are enough drama queens in a high school!
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