The Story
A teacher I am and always will be. Yet, my absence from the formal classroom is teaching me more than I could ever know about learning. I am convicted of the rhythmic melody that time, space, curiosity and creative play yields. Leaving my lead to the little ones is the magnificent component I am learning to do more and more.
It is trinkets of days like these. These days, these poignant days, that profoundly affect my stance on arguments such as quality vs. quantity, formal vs. informal not to mention, monitored vs. motivated.
From morning's rise, my mind was abounding with its heavy cross-offs and get-dones. My normal routine of 2 was now 3 for just a little while as she was here for an impromptu visit while Kim focused on Mallory and her rapidly changing birth story.
Up and attem and all teeth brushed, we began our time inside with computers and story time were mesmerized and enticed by the magnificent day peeking into our window panes.
Brilliantly and unbelievably before I knew it, we were all inhabiting the front porch taking in the warmth and welcoming the morning. Befuddled and well aware of our offtrackedness, I found myself a seat in the nearby rocking chair. I sat and rocked. I kept telling myself that time was slipping by and designated allotment for school was no where near punctual.
But those silver rays soaked into my soul, and it was all I could do to snag my camera fast and return to this very rocking spot.
Casey, the witty man of our house, was all smiles and silly as he lay barelegged bouncing his feet back and forth with joy.
And, Mollye's hair, like golden corn silks, danced with delight for time with the sun in this simple setting.
The warmth brought a surreal peace over me. I, too, found my socks off and my feet bare. My senses heightened and seemed to trump my anxiousness of tardy teaching.
And, then it happened.
Learning commenced.
The parentally dreaded in-and-out of the house began.
In for blocks.
Out for set up.
In for books.
Out for reading.
In for toys.
Out for role play.
Without any prompting, school had begun.
Their way.
In their time.
In their place.
Mollye sorted and stacked and counted at 3 years old.
Casey climbed in mama's lap to read his new book.
Just one of the many books he can read all by himself at a freshly turned 5.
One part was so hilariously funny, he just had to share with his cousin.
I cannot tell you how inspiring this sight is to see as not only the teacher, but more importantly, the mama to this 1st grader.
Leaders of tomorrow and learners everyday, I was reminded of the magnificence in mindful motivation. I was taken aback by the beauty of the day simple and still.
Of the smiles and laughter, the sharing and energy spent out for good.