The End of an Era

Maybe that's a bit melodramatic, but last night's end-of-term potluck at the adult program where I've been teaching was a sort of milestone. If and when I return to that job, I will be the mother of not one, but two children.

Evening ESOL teachers, L-R: My  intermediate level co-teacher; advanced level teacher; me; beginning level teacher (my friend K, who introduced me to the job originally--notice we're both pregnant roughly to the same degree, and thus both taking leave from the program).

Our class (only about half of the students are pictured, but they're among the most regular attenders). Countries represented this term included Laos, Brazil, Cuba, Mexico, Honduras, Eritrea, and Ukraine.  I was  impressed by the students' participation, motivation, and progress.

My Brazilian student (second from L) hit it off with the Cuban husband/engineer-wife/lawyer-brother/veterinarian trio (center). He and his family are moving to Russia, where he hopes to connect with the long lost brother of two of the Cubans.

Another recently bygone era has been marked by N's graduation from toddler wheels to pedal-pushing.  It's astonishing that just three years ago the same child was tasting her first solid food, blowing spit bubbles and babbling.

First she tried out the trike at Grandpa and Grandma's.

That was just the jump-start she needed to practice on her new bike at home.

A serious biker needs a serious helmet.