You can call me Mom.

There are few times more embarrassing in the life of a student then the moment when they call their teacher Mom. As a teacher, it's happened a handful of times in my seven years. The kid almost immediately recognizes their mistake, stutters some quiet apology, turns as red as my Expo marker, and prays that none of their friends heard them say it. I usually chuckle, say something along the lines of it's alright, or wow, we look nothing alike, just to help the poor kid feel less embarrassed. I mean, after all, we do spend all day together 5 days a week. It's not like we're strangers or anything, but Mom is one of those sacred terms that shouldn't be thrown around lightly.

I get that, now. I am a mom. I know that being mom is the absolute hardest job ever. It's thankless, tiresome, emotionally and physically draining, and the pay is crap. You work for tiny people who change their mind constantly with unreachably high expectations and minute attention spans. They're messy, they break things and expect you to fix them, have no regard for their own physical safety, and usually get bent out of shape when you try to keep them from hurting themselves. Mom is not a job for the faint of heart. But, despite all of that, most people who are one would probably say that is one of their crowning jewels to be called Mom.

I was recently catching up with a friend I used to work with. We were chatting about our seriously late conference proposal and stumbled upon school and our kids, as well call them. Anyone who has taught has referred to their students as 'their kids'. It doesn't matter how long ago you taught them, or even what your relationship was like with them, they will always be one of your 'kids'. I asked about the kids, and these particular kids were freshman when I taught them last. They were also the first group of students that I taught, and had the privilege to teach some of them in sixth grade, again in seventh, and again in ninth grade. I've never felt so close to a group of students as I did with these students in particular.

My friend told me that she was in her office working when one student came by, now a senior, leading a freshman around on a tour. He stopped by her office and told the student that he had four moms: his mom, my friend, another teacher, and me. She didn't give much detail about the rest of their conversation, but it probably went something 'Enjoy the rest of your summer' and 'Stay out of trouble'. I'm sure he didn't give much thought about what he said, but I have.

Teacher friends, we are in the fortunate position to have a positive impact on students' lives. Our interactions can shape who they become, in small ways and in large ones, too. I've spoken of this student before, and how he has had such an impact on me and my career. But, it's been three years since I've seen or spoken to him. High school feels like an eternity when you're in the thick of it, I think I remember that much. For him to say this to another student, who will never know me, and he himself hasn't seen me in three years, there's an impact there. And on another level, for him to call me Mom? I hope his mother wouldn't be offended because I know firsthand, even if only for a small while, how hard it is to be someone's mom. How much love and stress and worry and heartache it is to be called Mom. I would want her to know I don't take that title for granted, and that I am honored and humbled that her son would call me Mom.

Be encouraged, friends. Be encouraged and go out there and be Moms and Dads to your 'kids'. Just like with your children at home, you may never get a thank you, or a act of gratitude, but know that so much is understood in the title of Mom: love, trust, appreciation, strength. Here's to hoping for that proverbial slip of the tongue, and have a great last few weeks of summer.

Dipping my toes in.

Guess who's baaaaack?

Well, it's almost the opposite. I never really went anywhere. This has been a season of withdrawal.

This past school year was about as opposite from the previous one as it could have gotten. This past school year my goals were very different. In the previous years, my goal was to be as 'out there' professionally as I could. I wanted to be in the know, to be seen and heard for what I was doing and what I had to contribute. I wanted to go to all the conferences, attend all the Twitter chats, and be in every conversation.

But, this past school year was different. My priorities were different. We had a beautiful baby girl, Avery, in March and much of my year was spent preparing for her. I struggled so much with postpartum depression with my first child, and wanted to be completely prepared when our little girl came to love and appreciate our time together as where I felt I was robbed of some of that with our first. I'm rounding the corner towards graduation in my Master's program at Purdue and spent ALOT, read A. LOT. of time doing work for graduate school. We moved across town, technically to another town. I spent time making our new house a home. I spent time on myself, both physically and intellectually. I became stronger in both ways and appreciate that time I took, selfishly or otherwise.

When I first realized I was in a season of withdrawal professionally, I became really concerned. I worked so hard the two years before to put myself in a position where I felt like I had some importance and a place in a community where I was respected and understood. My withdrawal was unintentional, and so when I realized it was happening I felt like it was happening to me, in spite of my efforts. It took a few important conversations with a few important people to realize that my withdrawal from the business (read: busy-ness) of my career was not happening to me, but rather because of me.

I, well we, chose to grow our family and it was one of the best decisions of our lives. Our daughter is perfect in her own way and a perfect fit for us. I chose to go back to graduate school, to put me in a better place to make a larger impact in my field. I love my field and have really found my niche. I chose to take time and improve my health and my happiness to be better in every area of my life.

But now it seems that the withdrawal that I first scorned and dreaded has become something that I love and appreciate. I will never again have this tim in my life. I'll never again have sweet moments with my newborn baby girl and her, uh, rambunctious, three year old brother. I'll never have the opportunity to work hard for this Master's degree and glean all that I can to make me a better educator. I'll never have the opportunity to lay the groundwork for what I hope is a very long and healthy rest of my life.

When August rolls around I'll embark on a new adventure as the Lead teacher of the STEAM magnet program at Oakdale Elementary School in Rock Hill. This new job will lead me back to my passion of PBL and STEAM education, and I truly could not be happier. However, I'm worried that with putting more 'mph' back into my career I'll lose the happiness I've built in my time away. Balance is the key to life and I know that, but figuring out this balance will inevitably take some time. My hope is to be intentional, always, with how I'm dividing my time and efforts as to not lose the happiness I created over the past year, but to instead compound it with my new position in a new school.

Thanks for sticking with my as I dip my toes back into the proverbial water, and hopefully by August I'll be ready to go head-first.