A horse of a different color.

Yesterday, all the Religious Education teachers got an e-mail outlining the curricula for next year and asking if we'd be willing to teach again. I discovered that the preschoolers will be combined with the kindergarteners next year, meaning that all of my current kids will be staying in the class. (This is a good thing. We have a great class.) And they'll be doing the "Chalice Children" curriculum, a preschool-level introduction to the symbols, people, and rituals of Unitarian-Universalism. That sounds fun to teach, and it would make an interesting change from our nature-oriented curriculum of this year.

I replied to the e-mail saying that I would be delighted to teach preschool again, and added as an afterthought that I would also be willing to teach OWL if she had trouble recruiting teachers for it. OWL stands for "Our Whole Lives;" it's the UU (and United Church of Christ) sex education curriculum. Our kids take it in middle school.

This morning I got a call from the RE director, letting me know that she wasn't going to be at church this morning. And then she said, "When I saw that you might be willing to teach OWL, I almost had a heart attack. Because you would be so good at it."

"It's pretty different from what I'm doing now," I said.

"Yeah. We should set up a time to talk about it, and see what you want to do."

So. Looks like RE is probably going to be a very, very different experience next year... unless she gets an influx of fantastic volunteers who want to teach OWL. Hm. I'm gonna need a new RE icon.

Dying of sweetness.

At dinner this evening, Alex took Michael's hand, looked up at him, and said earnestly, "Oh, what a beautiful father!"

After we finished eating, she and I went outside to hang out on the stoop and watch people go by. We played with sticks, sang some songs, chatted a bit. And then she smiled at me and said, "I have a really good time singing songs with you, Mama."

She's started saying "I love you." And even better: "I love you with all my heart." She accompanies it with hugs and kisses.

I'd like to think that this is a matter of our affectionate, demonstrative parenting style paying its expected dividends. But I know it's not that easy. The love of this little girl seems more like a miraculous gift - unimaginable luck, undreamed-of sweetness.