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pure joy

Thursday, February 12, 2015

When Jack's teachers post a sign-up sheet on the classroom door, I sign up.
Party?  I will bring food.

Movie?  He can watch it.

Read a book to the class?  I'm on it.

This was actually my first time reading a book to the class, though.  The strictures of a working mom's schedule (with a nasty commute, I might add) tend to prevent me from mid-day mommy duties.  

"You have to do this."

That's what my brain said about story time.  So, I signed up, and I showed up, and I delivered.

I read The Book With No Pictures by BJ Novak.  If you do not have this book yet, I will wait while you click on the link to Amazon and GET YOURSELF A COPY IMMEDIATELY.

The book is genius.

BLORK.

When I finished the book, the kids clapped.  It was obvious that they had been instructed to clap when a parent finished a book, an instruction which I (and Proper Paige) appreciate.

They then bum-rushed me to hug me in a flailing pile of five year old mirth.

You guys.  It was pure joy.  FOR ME.


I mean -- that's it.  It was so stinking awesome.  Motherhood is trippy.

Hope your heart is amazingly light today.

Talk soon,
Heather

1 comment:

Thursday, February 12, 2015

pure joy

When Jack's teachers post a sign-up sheet on the classroom door, I sign up.
Party?  I will bring food.

Movie?  He can watch it.

Read a book to the class?  I'm on it.

This was actually my first time reading a book to the class, though.  The strictures of a working mom's schedule (with a nasty commute, I might add) tend to prevent me from mid-day mommy duties.  

"You have to do this."

That's what my brain said about story time.  So, I signed up, and I showed up, and I delivered.

I read The Book With No Pictures by BJ Novak.  If you do not have this book yet, I will wait while you click on the link to Amazon and GET YOURSELF A COPY IMMEDIATELY.

The book is genius.

BLORK.

When I finished the book, the kids clapped.  It was obvious that they had been instructed to clap when a parent finished a book, an instruction which I (and Proper Paige) appreciate.

They then bum-rushed me to hug me in a flailing pile of five year old mirth.

You guys.  It was pure joy.  FOR ME.


I mean -- that's it.  It was so stinking awesome.  Motherhood is trippy.

Hope your heart is amazingly light today.

Talk soon,
Heather
 
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