Where the Wild Things Are...

When I was a little girl, my mom would read me "Where the Wild Things Are." It is one of those memories of my mother that brings a smile to my heart. When my daughter was born, she took my old wooden high chair, stripped it of it's lead laden paint and refinished it, complete with a tray donning a scene from the book. It was her way of passing the torch to the next generation.

I feel a bit like I am living among the Wild Things....I am not sure if I am Max or one of the beasts. I am struggling to balance emotions...trying to find the place where I fit. I am looking at young learners...some not eager at all to make a positive contribution to those around them.

Many of them sit with their imagined crowns upon their head, holding the scepter.  I am not sure if they puff out their chest due to fear or indignation. Either way...it is there.

Today I lost my shit with my kids...used some flowery language that I usually  reserve for friends...Maybe I should have just said..."I'll eat you up, I love you so..." Maybe then, they would truly understand...

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