First day of class went well. It felt great to walk back into the newsroom at SAC, felt like coming home. The faculty and staff instantly recognized me and we had abbreviated life updates as students filed into the classroom for the first lecture. I look forward to the semester and even though I'm terrified of how well I can juggle all my responsibilities, I think this time I will pull through. I have an arsenal of good friends and supportive professors, plus my determination and dedication to my career as a writer.
I went to morning lecture at 9:30 expecting that to be the end of my first day, only to find out lab is on Mondays from 1 p.m. - 3 p.m., not on Friday at the same time (my night off work). I worked the night before and, expecting to sleep right after class, stayed up all of Sunday running errands, buying last minute supplies, and prepping the kids for school.
After morning lecture I drove to the girls' school to drop of M's supplies.. and of course to check on them. M was already waiting in line for lunch... I dropped the supplies off in her homeroom and walked toward T's classroom. I wasn't worried about M adapting, she is naturally inquisitive, rule-abiding student.
As my slip resistant shoes squeaked down the hallway my mind began to race. After work, in transit to class, during class I'd glance at my phone waiting for the dreaded phone call, "I'm sorry, but Taylor needs more attention than we can give." Each step brought me closer to a possible child pick up.
I walked into an empty classroom and saw her class walking single file toward the playground. The room was filled with play stations; a wash basin filled with plastic dinosaurs, a miniature stovetop/cupboard combo complete with emptied food cartons, crayons and big chief tablets with bright scribbles on the page. I realized, this is the best environment for her and whatever it takes to keep her here... I am willing.