Suddenly, in the dark of the night, I hear my daughter--who is never, ever scared of ANYTHING, being capable of doing the tower of terror and other scary rides plus watch horror flicks that make me cry--sound panicked. That is not a good sign. "Mommmmy?" I hear. "Mommy? Please? Please?"
Oh God, I think. Something horrible has happened. I'm not sure I can even identify the fear in her voice because the girl is never scared. What happened? I immediately fling out of bed, running to her door, opening it to see her sitting up straight in her bed.
"MOMMY! Oh, goodness, Mommy...something opened up the closet door all by itself," she tells me, the terror evident in her face despite the shadows being the only light to show it. I had no idea what to answer since I saw the closet door wide open when I know I had closed it earlier myself. My breath sucked inwards, my mind scrambling to try and reassure her of what might have happened so that she could go back to sleep....
...when suddenly I see a vaguely orange flash dart by my feet and out the room.
Man, did I laugh! And Ariana--who had not seen that orange ball of fur fly by in the dusky night--said, "What, what? What, Momma?"
When I explained to her that it was only Firepaw who had gotten stuck in the closet and freed himself, she bust out laughing. We both laughed. Firepaw, on the other hand, stood outside the door in a defiant manner, as if to say, "HEY! You did not trap me! I win!"
And then Ariana settled back down to sleep without an issue, and I heard occasional giggling from her bed as if that just amused the heck out of her.
So, we're doing great here although immigration issues are still up in the air (but progressing!). Classes are going very well, primarily because they are filled with students who have been told to take me as a teacher. That is, my sarcasm and sharp tongue measured with kindness and concern is what they expect AND WANT, so folks are not generally upset...instead, they're happy as this is what they wanted. Although I never thought of myself as a bad teacher, I realize that it is this year--my fifth teaching--that I've hit my stride. I now know what experience can bring. Sure, there are plenty better teachers out there here and there, but I'm doing a great job in my field where I am, and the happiness that brings me? Immense. It's a good life I lead!