Name Dropping

As I walked out of the gym yesterday, a friend from my ward said,

"I have to tell you what Josh did during sharing time."

"Stop!" I said.  "I don't even want to know!"

She didn't listen and went on with the story.

"Well, he really, really wanted to be picked to find the hidden Easter Egg, so instead of calling out the typical, 'Me, Me! Pick Me!' he started calling out, "Do you know my mom?  Do you know who my mom is? She's Katy Suzuki.  Katy Suzuki is my mom!"

I started cracking up, and I asked my friend, "Did my name influence the teacher's pick?"

"Nope."

Are you embarrassed for me?

When Josh got home from school, I said, "Sister Johnson told me about you calling out my name during sharing time."  He blushed and while he hide behind his sheepish grin of embarrassment, I said, "Nobody has paid me a higher compliment.  You're my biggest fan, and I love you to the moon and back and to the moon again, buddy."

Moms are powerful.

The end.

P.S. Here's our Christmas card picture.  Some of my friends say we look like we're running for office.

Becoming

I spent last semester teaching at Highland High.  At the beginning of the school year I was sure that becoming a teacher was what I was born to do.  But by the end of the semester, I had changed my mind.

 I loved the students, the literature, and all that comes with teaching teenagers how to find their best selves.  I dreamed of becoming like Mrs. Bennet, my polio stricken 11th grade English teacher, who hobbled back and forth between her podium and the rows and rows of desks while moving us through a canon of classics: The Great Gatsby, The Scarlet Letter, and Romeo and Juliet.  Sitting at my desk, I repeatedly promised myself I'd become a teacher like her.  It was the only way I could pay forward.    

And, as soon as my littlest went back to school, I began working on my Master's and gathering  experience through substitute teaching. I would become like all the Highland High Greats:  Mrs. Schless, Ms. Divine, Mrs. Wallace, Mrs. Horton, and Mrs. Wayne (There are too many to list).

Through a series of experiences I had this last semester, I decided my focus needed to be more at home, not at school.  This realization was shocking, and it has left me reeling.  Now what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to focus? And where do I start? In a weird way, the video below helped me begin a list of what I should do next.  Have you seen it?

video via Dubuh Du