Tomorrow I'll Be Free

I did a lot today.  I mean, a WHOLE LOT.

The last day of the month is always hectic for me.  It's because I make it that way.  I sort of like it that way.  I just can't resist running the very last leg of the race to the fullest, until my lungs want to explode and every last muscle aches and I'm completely spent.  I just love the feeling of knowing I gave it my all.

I have no idea where the running analogy came from.  I hate running.  You couldn't pay me to run.  Sorry.  Off the point.

Anyway, I do remember calling texting a friend and telling her I was praying for her.  It feels like it was yesterday, but it was actually this morning.

In all of the hustle and bustle, my favorite moment of the day, though, was when I stopped and played cars on the floor with Danny.  He was whining.  I was doing something or other.  I thought he was bored.  Then I realized he just wanted to play.  So my phone went down.  I dropped to my knees and grabbed a car.

Vroooo-oooooooOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!  

Danny wasted not one second in joining me.  He grabbed a car and immediately imitated the noise.

I thought I didn't know how to play with boys.  I thought cars would be boring.  I thought wrestling with him didn't come naturally. I thought, "Alejandro is so much better at all that stuff than me."

I was wrong.

It was the best 20 minutes of the whole day.

This morning (just before playing cars and having lunch), I toured a preschool with Danny.  It's sort of a long story why and how I ended up touring a preschool with him, but anyway, we found ourselves walking the halls, admiring cute organized classrooms with miniature sinks, toilets, cubbies and tables in primary colors.

I was impressed.

I walked out of there thinking, "Danny could really benefit from spending time here a couple times a week for a few hours."  I mean, this preschool really has got it together.  So many educational, stimulating, curiosity-perking activities for a young growing little boy to dive into.  So well thought out.  So well carried out and well implemented.

And then I saw it.  I knew it from before.  I remember what it felt like, from the teacher side of it.  Everyone hustling and bustling and hurrying and scurrying and making sure the kids have this thing and that thing and that the day goes off without a hitch.  I saw the teachers who clearly find their light and joy in bringing each child growth and challenge, but who have a checklist.  An agenda.  I know it all too well.  It so deeply permeates our achievement-oriented schools now, that we hardly recognized it.

They forgot that they work with people.  

There was a form and a program.  There were systems and expectations and rules and activities.  And fun.  Lots and lots of fun!  But somewhere in all of that which made me walk away and ponder how I could incorporate some of those really great and educational activities into my son's day at home, I sensed a missing piece in there somewhere.  It's as though there wasn't the freedom for the staff to just stop and listen and put people (big and small) first.  

It's not their fault.  (Although it is within their power to change.)  It is a product of a society that wants to see results and wants progress and growth to be packaged up in a little box and handed to them in a nice report at the end of the day.

But it did remind me, that I am in exactly the right place. Doing exactly the right thing. Each and every day. 

Tomorrow, I'm going to play cars for 20 minutes, play with home-made playdough for as long as he'll stand on the chair, and wrestle until I wear him out he wears me out.