So many things to tell you all, but first let me begin with perhaps the coolest: I got a noise maker.
It is by far the best present my husband has ever given me. And I got it for no reason at all. Out of the blue, in true Caleb-gift-giving fashion, he calls me and says, and I quote: “You like noises and stuff, right?” in this bored, disinterested voice. And I say “Yes, all noises except for screeching children, crying babies, loud TV commercials, high-pitched anything, bro country, pens clicking, or people talking when I’m trying to think about breathing or aliens. Why do you ask?”
And he brings home this noise maker and I want to marry it. I’d catch a grenade for that thing. Every night I can’t wait to go to bed and turn it on and I’m sad when I fall asleep because it only means less time I get with my soothing ocean/rain/babbling brook/summer nights/thunderstorm sounds. Sometimes in the morning I turn it on and curl up in my covers and weep, with happiness and purr like a cat. My friends call me whiskers. You don’t have a noise maker? GET ONE.
Also, my kids will start back to school this week, which is only a little heartbreaking since I have a million pounds of smooshy cuddly baby to keep me busy all day every day:
And? I’m teaching at our church’s Mother’s Day Out program, which I think is more of a preschool since it’s called a preschool and there’s a full-on educational curriculum and schedule and recess and lunch and naps and centers and what-have-you. Today us teachers partook in an organizational free-for-all that I was no good at, except for to freak out at the thought of not flying by the seat of my pants. But with the guidance and encouragement of about 9 preschool masters, I managed to put folders on a table and decorate a door.
I’m like, super excited, but mostly: nervous. Tonight was Open House Night, where I met the kids who I get the privilege to hang out with and teach stuff to all year. I was beside myself with “what if’s?” and “how do I’s?” and “have I bitten off 102% more than I can chew?s”.
And then it happened. A wee little girl no bigger than my thumb walked up to greet me with what I thought was a handshake, so I squatted down on her level AND SHE CAME IN FOR A HUG. A HUG! (Squee! So cute!) Which would have been even more precious than it was except that I–in all my off-balance glory–toppled backward like a friggin Weeble, taking the little girl with me, to the floor, in front of all the parents and in front of God’s own face.
So much for dignity and professionalism.
Here’s me: “Are you there God? It’s me, Toni.”
And God said: “Ah yes. The flighty, anxious lady I commanded to be a teacher this year.”
Me: “…yeah, only little kids are stronger and sturdier than me and I’m not so sure you’ve got me in the right line of work. It took a small child all of two seconds to take me out. Or are we at it again with the lessons on humility?”
God: “Huh? Oh, no, that was just funny. We’re all still laughing our heads off up here.”
Me: “HARDEE HAR HAR. All the parents saw me on the actual floor like a turtle stuck on its back.”
God: “Oh! Oh. I know. Excuse me, that was great. You should stop taking yourself so seriously and just learn to roll with it. You’re teaching three year olds for crying out loud. They don’t care about a crooked print-out or a missing poster or your frizzy hair.”
Me: “My frizzy…wait, what?”
God: “If you can’t take the heat, get off of the middle of the floor! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
So you guys. I am teaching. I am laughing. And I am already loving it. I love the kids, I love their parents, I love the awesome people I work with, and I love God. It’s going to be a great year.