“You know, I sensed you had a message in there, but I was having a hard time figuring it out.” I wink, letting her know I’m teasing, and we chuckle together.
“As I was walking around, talking to the kids and getting to know each one, I realized you were right about our class. It is the best, even though I have no firsthand knowledge of the other classes. We have some incredibly bright children in here.”
“I agree. They make every day a new adventure for me.” She pops a goldfish cracker in her mouth.
“Do you know anything about what’s going on in Isabelle’s home? She seemed so sad when I asked about her picture.”
“Her mother has cancer and has been in and out of the hospital. She’s fighting it but I don’t think she’s holding up too well.” Her face falls, emphasizing the severity and sadness of the situation.
“That breaks my heart. Even if kids don’t understand all the details, they feel how these events affect the family. I’ll keep an eye on her, in case it gets worse before it gets better.” I drop my eyes to my desk, already contemplating the ways I can help Isabelle through this dark time.
“Juliana, her mom, is the sweetest person too. You’d love her—she’s not the pretentious kind. Earlier in the school year, she was so involved in Isa’s school events, and she’d interact with all the other kids like they were her own. It’s a hard adjustment for that little girl, not having her mom around all the time, so I’m sure it’s equally hard on Juliana.”
“I can’t imagine all the conflicting feelings they both have right now. Is there anything we can do to help her?” I can’t imagine being in her shoes.
“Not that I know of, but from what I’ve heard, she has a strong support system in her family. When you get to know Isa better, you’ll see that little girl is so adored at home. She’s not spoiled, but she hung the moon and stars in someone’s eyes.”
We get busy setting up the room for the next activity before the end of the school day, but what I just learned about Isa’s mom is stuck in my mind. The empath in me can’t stand the thought of that sweet little girl potentially losing her mom to such a terrible disease. Even if I can’t do anything to change her health condition, maybe I can find small ways to help lift her spirits.
The children return to the classroom and we eventually get everyone settled in their seats. We’re so busy working with each child to complete their sight words, I don’t realize how fast time has passed. When I glance at the clock, I realize the dismissal bell will ring soon, so we quickly gather their book bags and help them put their work away until tomorrow.
I can’t help but smile when I watch all the littles file out of the room when the bell rings, knowing exactly where they’re going and what they need to do. I’m lost in my own musings until the voice of the only male I trust with my heart calls my name.
“Mommy! I had the best day. This school is awesome.” Landen, the seven-year-old love of my life, rushes into my classroom and straight into my arms.
“I’m so glad you had a great first day. Just remember this next time you don’t trust your mom.” I feel him smile with his cheek pressed against mine.
“Don’t get carried away now, Momma.”
This is our personal comic routine, a private joke between mother and son. He’s all boy, rough and tumble, and into everything he’s not supposed to be. But he also has the best heart and sense of humor, even if I’m biased in my beliefs. He and I tease each other regularly as a reminder not to take life too seriously. We started this schtick when he was old enough to understand humor.
I secretly hope it helps us both survive his teenage years.
“You think you’re smart, don’t you, little boy?” I playfully honk his nose before packing my bag to leave for the day. “You can tell me all about your new class on the way home. I’m almost ready to go.”
“Can I go get a drink of water in the hall?”
“Sure, but no running off anywhere else.”
He likes to visit other classrooms and meet my peers. Not that I mind, usually, but since we recently moved, we’re still decorating the house I recently bought. I’d planned to drag him along with me on a shopping spree before going home.
Before putting my planner away, I glance at the lesson plan for tomorrow and mentally check off everything I’ll need to work on it at home tonight.
“No, I can’t leave it here. I need it. My teacher said it’s a beautiful picture and I want to give it to Mommy.” A little girl’s voice echoes down the hall, the urgent pleading in her tone is unmistakable.
She sounds like Isabelle, but I’m not certain. So I turn my gaze toward the door, waiting to see if she appears.
“Is it in here?” He’s looking down at his miniature doppelgänger when he steps through the doorway into my classroom.
My heart stops. I can’t breathe, move, or speak. I’m completely and utterly dumbstruck. How did I look at her all day and not see the resemblance?
Rod is standing in my classroom beside Isabelle, silently staring back at me.
She looks so much like him. Same color hair, same color and shape of eyes, same dazzling smile. Is Isabelle his daughter?
“Mommy, can I play baseball next season? My new friend, Jason, said
