I am lucky indeed.

It is a rare person that is able to experience the joy of watching lives unfold over several years through their work.  I'm one of the lucky few that meets people, often at their worst and get to see their lives transformed right before my eyes.

You see, I never just meet a mom or a kid or a dad and their kid, I meet families.  People come to me as a parent and a child or two parents and a child or two or three (parents or kids).....No matter what that family looks like when they arrive, I get to meet them when they are young.

By young I mean the family is young.  That parent might be 40 or that parent might be 14.  It doesn't matter because both of them have just started down a journey that hopefully...if they are lucky...never ends in the adults lifetime.

This week in particular I was struck by conversations with parents who have been with us in the past or even currently but for several years because their kids are older and what they said.  It's what they say that blows me away.

One mom was bragging about how her child can now jump on the couch and say bad words and he just turned 5.  Most parents would be appalled at these behaviors but she's celebrating that he has made strides despite his disability and wanted to share her joy with us.  She recognized that she will someday have to tell him not to do those things but is also so excited that he is now doing them...the things most parents take for granted, she simply doesn't.  It was heart wrenching to go through the steps of helping she and her partner to realize he had a disability but I'm happy I was there.

Another came in and congratulated us for receiving the BBB Torch Award for Ethics.  She has brought 4 kids to our centers and said she wouldn't take them anywhere else.  They are all in private school except for the baby and her words of affirmation meant so much.  This mom can take her children anywhere, but she chooses us.

Another mom reached out to me just to send good thoughts my way.  Her children are in elementary school now and she lives in another state but wanted me to know she was thinking about me.  My gosh, how lucky am I to have this family in my life?  One would think our connection would simply be over as her children aged out.  Was it because she had breast cancer when they were little and we collectively worried while her kids were little or was it fate that we met and still adore one another?  I don't know, but I'm grateful for that life line and friendship.

Then there is one of my longest connections with a woman that I admire and equally love for just being her.  She told me that when she and her best friend who also had a son at GL would have a problem they would say, "Let's call Lori, she'll know what to do."  Just like all of us, myself included, we don't always want to listen to our moms, so they had someone else they would listen to (even though I probably gave the same advice) don't we all need that non familial voice?

This one is special to me though.  Her son was a baby when he arrived and we haven't lost touch even though he's in college now.  The warmth I feel when I think about her and the connection we have is based on mutual respect, admiration and genuine love.  She was a scared and young mom when I first met her and she is no longer that person.  I was able to see her grow into herself and her vision of the best version of herself, but also watch and hear about her son growing into a person that she is proud of and that he is proud of.

I don't always get to see things start to finish.  I often lose touch or they move or I wasn't their go-to-person, but there are enough that I do see start to finish (even though we're never really finished) that I know it's good.  I know I'm lucky.  I know they're lucky too....that we found each other and that our spheres get to intersect for this span of time when we need each other the most.

"People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care."  John C. Maxwell.

I get to share a little bit about what I know with parents when they need it the most.

I get to share my passion for families everyday of my life.

I get to be a part of the most important part of a persons life, when they are young and their family is young.

When my own children become parents I know they will think that my advice might be outdated (even though I spent time this morning coaching a new mom with a 6 week old through her concerns).  But that's okay.  I hope they all find their Lori who will give them advice and help navigate them through their fears and insecurities and whom they will connect for a lifetime.

I am lucky indeed.

Parenting and Math are hard!!

I went to college to become a teacher.  I dabbled in other things like design because I was good at it but eventually my desire to work with kids and impact lives in a classroom prevailed so the college of education got me.  Admittedly part of that decision could've stemmed from the fact that I struggled with math and I only had to take a methods course in Elementary Education to learn how to teach math, a subject I knew very little about.

Regardless, my image of myself as a teacher who would have fun summer days with my then imaginary children seemed ideal.  It resonated well with my potential husband too, so a teacher I became. 

Shortly after getting married in college and graduating we moved to Boise and a teaching job was no where to be found. I was told the market was saturated and I should have gone into nursing.  Ugh!  Who wants to be a nurse?  Blood, poop, urine, illness, vomiting, crying (not to mention all that math!)

So after several months doing temporary types of clerical work we decided to start a family before a career.  My husbands career was progressing nicely and so our first baby showed up, a bouncing baby boy about a year later.

When I held that little man I suddenly shared something with, I'm guessing, the majority of the population with a newborn.  It's that feeling that there is absolutely NO ONE in this world who can take better care of him than ME!   

In many ways I was right.  But then so are all the other moms and dads that think that.  What it meant was that there is no one in this world that can possibly love them more or sacrifice more for that little person than their parents.  It provided me with an entirely new perspective on this business of childcare and preschool and a deep respect for those that had to use it despite this feeling that I now knew they all must be experiencing.

Fast forward through some times that we'll come back to eventually, but when I found myself needing a job, really needing a job to support myself, I worked at a childcare for the sole reason that I didn't want to or couldn't leave my 2 year old son.  I thought that I'd only do it for awhile.  I would grace this industry with my presence and education beyond what was needed and do myself a favor in the process.

heh heh heh...it's funny how life has a way of humbling us without notice.

Amidst the laughter, tears, blood, illness, fun, parents, volunteers, vomiting, staff, owners, urine, poop, tricycles and yes math as an administrator I found myself and my path alongside my son and consecutive 2 daughters, and those dreamy summers I'd envisioned never materialized.

That was over 27 years ago and hundreds and hundreds of children and families ago.  A few of those children now bring their children to one of our facilities.  It's been a privilege and a joy and here is where I've decided it's time to share some of the incredible stories of this journey. 

Parenting is hard.  It's made harder when we have to do it alone or in a vacuum with our significant other.  It is equal parts joy, fear and anguish. Some people make it look easy and it simply isn't.  

The incredible things I've learned from my parents, other parents, all of the amazing teachers I've worked with, my incredible volunteers and board members and raising my own family all contribute to the possibility that I might actually know something that might be of use to other parents.  

That all adds up to an equation, that computes to a sum, that in all probability leads to a formula for success, at minimum, a fraction of the time.  

And you thought my math hadn't improved in all these years. 

A Career is born

It was 1959 and my heavily drugged mother yelled out in the delivery room, “Thank God it’s a girl, I’m so sick of looking at penises!”  No self-respecting, pillbox hat wearing, Catholic mother in a Catholic hospital would yell out such a thing, but I was baby number 4, number 3 that survived childbirth and the first born girl.  I was a treasure she’d long awaited and the star of the family for a few short years.

 

About two years later my sister Susie arrived and on her heels Jeanine. The intruders are pictured above, I'm snuggled up next to my mom.  My princess crown slipped slightly as the sheer numbers increased but also because Susie had some special needs that my parents were alternately denying and embracing as parents do when faced with a cognitive disability.

My favorite activity with my parents remained sitting on their laps having them read me a book.  I’d evidently spent a fair amount of time doing this early on when I was the reigning princess that I never forgot how incredibly satisfying those moments were.  They became more and more rare as time went on and I can recall how sad I was about that at the ripe old age of about 3.

It seems like I spent eons watching my brothers leave for school, with me begging to be able to go, while my mom reassured me that I would be next…and best of all when I got there I would learn to read.  I was ecstatic. 

No more would I have to wait for someone to read me a book. 

I would have the special power to decode those exotic symbols that took me to places I’d never been, about people I’d never met, about experiences I never had.  I couldn’t imagine a greater power of any kind.

Fast forward an eternity later and I am finally standing in my first classroom at my Catholic school a little nervous about the nun whose veil hung to the floor as she quietly swooshed through the classroom of 25 eager 1^st graders.  She had us line up in the front of the classroom where we could clearly see the large alphabet hung above the blackboard.  She went down the line and pointed with her wooden pointer to each letter and then to one of us standing in that row to say the letter aloud.  The smell of fear suddenly overpowered the lovely first day smell of new crayons and freshly starched uniforms.

As my turn approached not only was I shaking in my newly purchased black and white saddle shoes, but as was my way, I wanted to throw up or pee my pants.  I did not know any of the letters and slowly watched as it got closer and closer to me being called upon.  Mortified I muttered a letter that someone had said a few try’s back and she kindly corrected me (thank GOD for her) and moved beyond me.

We performed a similar exercise with addition and as I heard people’s answers to her equations I searched through my limited data bank for patterns to help me when my name was called.  Again, I failed miserably (in my mind) as she gently told me the answer.  I know there were others that didn’t know the answers too, but on that day, in my mind, it was just me. 

I was furious when I arrived home even after walking the mile trek, all uphill of course.  I stormed in and announced, “I didn’t learn how to read today!!  I’m not going back!”  I tried to cover my shame with anger and vowed not to return. 

My mother took me into her arms and told me it takes a very long time to learn to read and that today was just a start.  I cried.  I told her why I was crying…because no one ever read me books anymore and all I wanted out of this school thing was to learn to read books. 

Through my hiccupped explanation she quietly listened and when I was done, she took a moment that I’m sure she could barely spare, sat me down on her lap, and read me a book.  She patiently pointed out letters and helped me begin to decode my first book.

My soul soared.

My job today is all around making sure no little person goes into school on the first day ecstatic to learn, and exits defeated at how little they know.  The early years are crucial to a child’s future success in school and the more information they have in their arsenal that first day, the more confident learner they are.  Studies show they actually are more likely to finish school, go beyond high school, and contribute to society in meaningful ways.

I hope it’s obvious that I did learn to decode just a little and that I can now scrap with the rest of them as I wrangle with words to explain why this is important.  My life’s work has been to create places for children and their parents from which to launch into kindergarten and beyond.

It may not seem so lofty,

but for a quivering little girl in saddle shoes,

it would have meant the world to have known just that one letter.