My mom called a few days ago and wanted to do something special with me this last Thursday. She had taken a day off of work and wanted to come to my classroom to see me in action. I was thrilled at the prospect of her coming in, and flattered she wanted to spend her day off with me! My mom and dad both frequent my classroom often, but only after hours, or on the weekends. They come up to help with bulletin boards, hanging curtains, moving things around, etc. My mom has never, though, been into my room during instruction. She met me in my room during my lunch break, and we had a great visit. Her eyes roamed my classroom, and I know she was taking in the books, manipulatives, the expo markers, and the unmistakle smell of school. She loves saying her daughter is a teacher. In a world where teachers are not respected anymore, my mom thinks I am nothing short of a saint for doing what I do everyday. I smiled at her when the bell rang because I knew how much she would enjoy seeing my kids march in and start their afternoon of grammar, writing, reading, and inferencing. I teach three-90 minute blocks, and this class, after lunch, is one of my most challenging. I was actually smiling, thinking of the misbehavior ahead, knowing my mom would get a real taste of what my life as a teacher is really like. The students didn't pay her much mind as they started their morning work, but my mom was all smiles as she observed them. I think for her, hearing, "Mrs. McCash" yelled out was something quite stunning. Unless you teach with me, you never hear of me in that fashion. I am simply Jessica. Not at school. My mom stayed for 40 straight minutes. When we started a reading comprehension activity, I handed her a book from the shelf and let her follow along. When it was time for her to leave, I finally told the 5th graders who our guest was- my mother. The gasps were audible, all right! My mom took the floor with questions like a pro. One student asked if I was a good girl when I was their age. Another asked if I had a childhood nickname. At the end of the question time, my mom asked them if they liked to read. She proceeded to tell them how I was NEVER without a book when I was young (I'm still not!!), and she then used my first name, Jessica, when referring to me. They were shocked. They thought my first name was "Mrs." I think she got a kick out of that! My mom whispered in my ear on her way out that she wanted to swing by my house and check on Bichon. I smiled and said, "Sure thing." When I got home, I found my laundry had been folded, and my dish washer unloaded. I also found this note and a tray covered in tin foil. She had "planned" a nice dinner for us and had gotten it all ready. She is really the best mom. I hope I can be as selfless as she when we start our family. She made a big smiley face on her note and wrote that "her Jessica had become a teacher." To say she is proud of me is an understatement. I'm so glad she came to visit. She is already talking about taking another day off next week to come and read a Christmas story to my class. She told me I ran my class like a Naval officer. I love it! I take that as a huge compliment because I try to be very structured, strict, and organized. With 58 11-year olds, there is really no other way to do it everday. My worst class is now one of my best. They loved having her as a guest. So did I.