Dear Mother of my future student,
Summer is drawing to an end and a new school year is upon us. The smell of freshly waxed floors and sharpened pencils fills the air as I sit here in my classroom anticipating your little one, plus 20 something more. I'm writing this letter to you now because there are some things I want you to know.
I want you to know that just like you are most likely anxious about your child's new teacher and grade, I am anxious, too. I have been counting down the days until the pitter-patter of little feet in brand new shoes fills my room with their nervous little smiles. I am anxious about learning what my students like to do, what...
It hit me while I was laying in bed one night, my baby girl doing what felt like cartwheels in my belly, my sleepy thoughts wandered until they landed on: uh, I’m going to be responsible for this little life in a matter of weeks. Maybe that should’ve sunk in earlier than 7 1/2 months pregnant, but y’know, everyone moves at their own pace. Initially responsibility brings to mind things like breastfeeding and colic and trying not to obsess too much over every little breath she takes. But after some time thinking (falling asleep is hard), I started to venture past the first few months of her life, on to the more substantial things that Jeremy and I will be responsible for as...
I’ve never been a competitive person. It’s actually a running joke in my family that I never really cared if I won a board game, or a softball game. This isn’t to say I didn’t want to do well in school, or in other endeavors, but I was never someone who really compared herself to others.
Until I had a baby.
When I was pregnant, reading about “What to Expect” and listening to people’s advice, I heard a lot of, “every baby goes at their own pace” and “don’t get caught up in numbers.” But when you are focusing on your baby’s development, there are a lot of numbers: height and weight percentiles, sitting up by this age, crawling by that...
I was really in no hurry to move my son out of the crib. I liked knowing that he was safe and secure and planned to keep him there as long as I could. As he got closer to two, though, he became more and more interested in climbing and after seeing him put his foot on top of the crib rail a few times, I started to think about transitioning him. I was nervous that I'd come in after naptime to find him playing on the floor one day, or that I'd hear a thump followed by wailing instead! Every kid is different and there’s no magic age to move them out of the crib–you just have to use your judgement...
I am a dancer. Maybe not a very good one, but I'm a passionate one for sure. There are very few things that I love more than dancing my heart out. Throughout my entire childhood (and most of my adulthood so far), I have spent hours upon hours dancing alone in my house. Give me an hour and some hip hop music, and I can burn 1,000 calories, no problem. Add an audience on top of that, and, well, basically all of my dreams have come true.
My boys are my most hilarious dance partners. I can turn on any song, shout "DANCE PARTY!!!" and they will stop whatever they are doing and come running. We do this daily, and it has...
Around Baton Rouge
Wearin’ of the Green :: Baton Rouge Goes Wild {and Green!}
Wearin' of the Green :: Baton Rouge Goes Wild {and Green!}
Every March, Baton Rouge flips a switch. Suddenly, the streets aren't just streets anymore—they're...
