When you are a parent who works outside of the home, you have to accept an uncomfortable truth: your children will come to intimately know your workplace.
For our kids, the exotic adult playground where Mom and Dad toil is a college campus. When my children were babies, I used to tell my students to look for the stroller on campus.
Because, honestly, that’s where I’d be.
Now, of course, our kids are older. Which means they climb on abstract art sculptures.
Just a few weeks ago, however, things weren’t so joyful. Our son was ill. No preschool. And my husband had to teach class that morning.
Which all meant one thing: office hours with Mom. My students’ first major writing assignment was due the next day. I needed to be available.
So I set up a creative space for my son on the floor of my office. He traced letters, devoured his morning snack, and made faces at my forgiving students.
I guess it’s easier for them to remember being little.
And, for just one fleeting moment, my two worlds collided. The student at home met the students at school.
And without words, they exchanged a competitive smile that seemed to say: I’m teaching her more.
One Year Ago: The Bread of Life
Two Years Ago: The Ghost of Opportunity Lost