From the moment I wake up my days are busy.
I tidy up from the night before (my husband Ryan has emptied the dish washer and I love him so much, he helps so much, his days are busy too).
I wash and cut and cook fresh food for the little people, often with a baby on my hip, or exploring at my feet and chatting in his baby way about his morning. My daughter walks down, bleary eyed and sweet from sleep. She wants a cuddle.
And my mornings are busy.
A child comes to the door, smiling, laughing, sharing about their night before. I welcome them. Connect with their parent. Share a smile and chat about their night while smelling the air to make sure the food isn’t burning and listening to make sure everyone is still content.
I welcome each little one, each family, with as much warmth as an old friend.
My days are so busy but so beautiful.
I soothe a conflict, kiss an ouchie, cuddle away the sadness of mommy or daddy heading off to work. Pull the food off the oven, set up breakfast, and then it’s time to play downstairs. My morning is a flurry.
I listen to a thousand stories, tell a thousand stories, squish clay and slay dragons.
Change the toys, clean up an accident (and let them know they’re still so little and not to worry), I settle children to sleep.
We play for a million hours, build and break and climb and run and take safe risks as we learn about our world. I’m there to catch a little person when they stumble or fall. I take a note about a special moment to share with caregivers as the day goes on. I reassure you that your little one’s day was busy and fantastic and they learned so much.
Being a teacher; it’s exhausting, and exhilarating.
I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Even though my days are busy.