We are between homes right now.  Sold one and haven't moved into the next one yet.  Some days it is liberating.  Some days I get all anxious and shaky about it.

In this limbo period we are staying with friends.  Miss Angela (my friend) is our regular substitute in my classroom.  She is someone I look up to.  She is kind and funny and an all-around good person.  It is easy to be her guest.  It is just hard to be a guest in general.  Hard to not disturb the routines of the hosts.  Hard to have a feeling of solidarity within our own little family while things are not quite stable in a temporal way.

But each night we read scriptures together and remind ourselves of the important things, like being with each other and sharing experiences we have had during the day.  Those are the building blocks of a home.  The physical matters, of course, but the spiritual and the emotional are the real things.

 I can't wait to get in there and renovate starting this weekend

beginning the end

See that red chair?  That's where I'll be sitting on Thursday as I cue the kiddos on their speaking and singing parts in our program we hold in our classroom at the end of the school year.  They'll stand and sit and hold signs and recite nursery rhymes and even shake maracas.  The parents will cry, and so will I.  Because even though I am ready for the next things that will happen this Summer, I am not necessarily ready for my little friends to leave.

So weird the way change is what makes this job so invigorating and excruciating at the same time.  I'll worry about C, and wonder if he is learning how to solve his little problems.  I'll keep in touch with some whose mothers have asked for a continued connection.  It's always an interesting thing.

These chairs will be packed with grandmas and little sisters and camera bags.  I'll try and put my mind elsewhere as I stand and say how much I love the kids.  Ugh.  That's a hard part.  Then after the singing and clapping and bowing we will eat little frosted animal cookies and undoubtedly spill some punch on the carpet and take lots of pictures.  I will be in many of them.  Some will end up in scrapbooks and others will not.  I am not always remembered, and I am used to that now.  It doesn't matter.  We do what we can in the time we have.

We are both limited and unlimited.  It is the way of things.