Tales from a Teacher-Mama

Sarah has some anger issues.

Recently, she got upset because one of the neighbor kids was trying to follow her into the house when she didn’t want him to. I told Sarah that the boy could come in for a minute, and that caused her to redirect her fury at me. She came straight at me across the room, eyes wide with rage, teeth clenched and bared, and her little fist cocked back. When she reached me, she actually punched me right in the mouth.

With my lips smarting, I stood and tossed the book I’d been reading on the floor. I pointed toward the stairs and told her to get to her room and stay there. She went, screaming all the way. Once upstairs she slammed her door a few times, calling down, “Hear this, Mommy?” as if I might have missed it.  She followed that act by throwing a couple of toys down the stairwell–generally in my direction–and shrieked, “That’s what you get for giving birth to me!”

I couldn’t help it–I laughed. She doesn’t have any idea how true that statement is.

My youngest daughter, 5-year-old Sarah, is truly one of the most interesting characters I’ve ever known. She has an active imagination, complete with a bevy of imaginary friends to keep her company. And some of the things she says are so…surprising. For example, one evening after dinner she was dancing around the living room and happened to pass gas. I looked at her with wide eyes, waiting for her embarrassed “excuse me.” Instead she said, “Delighted,” and almost curtsied, as if she’d just met the queen rather than tooted. I’m telling you–she’s a character.

An aside about me: I’m 34, happily married with two lovely little girls, Laura (6-1/2) and “delighted” Sarah. I teach students who are deaf and hard-of-hearing; yes, I am fluent in American Sign Language, but no, I do not read Braille (that’s for the blind!)

Back to Sarah. I like to ask her from time to time what she wants to be when she grows up. Her answer has been the same for a year or two now: “I want to be a mommy like you.” (I try to recall the sweetness of this sentiment when she’s driving me absolutely bonkers with her willfulness or whining.) The last time I checked in with her, she expanded on her answer: “I’m going to be a teacher-mama like you.” I asked what she would like to teach, and she replied that she will “teach at a signing school, with you, and then we can see each other in the hall and maybe eat lunch together.” Is this not a mother’s fantasy–that her child not only wants to grow up to be just like her, but wants to work alongside her?! I can’t honestly say I envision her as a teacher, and it’s hard for me to picture my 5-year-old as a mother. But whatever path she chooses to follow into her adult life, I hope she holds onto that feeling. I hope that she continues to find me worthy of her admiration and enjoyable to have in her company. I hope, and I pray…I know adolescence will sneak up on us all too soon!

So I am a teacher-mama. Thank you, Sarah, for a title for my blog. I will try not to embarrass you–or your sister, or your father, or my students–too much with my posts.

No promises though. “Delighted.”