I AM a teacher.

I wake up every morning to the sound of my alarm. I shower, get dressed, put on make-up, do my hair, and eat breakfast, all before 7:30am. I walk into a little girl's room to find her jumping in her crib, chattering away, greeting the new day with a smile. I am swift, but take great care in dressing this little beauty and creating a pony-tail that cascades down the top of her head like a palm tree. We kiss our favorite man good-bye for the day, and are out the door.

I have conversations with this little girl, as we drive our 12 minute commute to our destination for the day. Sometimes we are silent, other times we fill the car with singing and laughing. It is a joyous part of our day, as the morning sunshine beats down upon my sunglasses, warming my soul.

We arrive promptly at 8am, greeted by a bubbly, smiling, cheerful little boy. 10 months old, and he already has 2 girlfriends! Our morning proceeds, where I find myself observing these two precious babes. Their minds are curious, like sponges, ready to soak in as much information as they possibly can. The request for music to come over the CD player is instant, and we sing and play along to kids' tunes all morning long. Most tunes are familiar and produce actions, such as clapping hands, stomping feet, or dancing away. While the music continues to play, I begin to read some books. There are words that are repetitive, words that are new. There are letters that are sung, and numbers counted too. New colors, sounds, textures and sights introduce themselves every minute. I continue to take in these two growing minds before me, absorbing everything that surrounds them, and it hits me on the side of the head. I am their teacher.

Eventually, the little knight takes a nap, while the sweet princess enjoys a snack, practicing what it means to have good table manners, all the while trying desperately to be successful with a spoon. She looks at me and asks for help, while begging for independence and to do-it-herself. I must guide her and let her test her wings, as she learns this important life skill. I am her teacher.

We pack up the stroller and make it outside for our daily walk to the park. Once we arrive, several other children are in the middle of playing, and I must let my little girl find her way amongst the fun and games. She must learn how to step in and play with other children, appropriately waiting her turn to use the swing, a slide or the stairs. Although a challenge, she must learn how to share as well as not to copy other kids who are throwing bark chips. I must guide her and demonstrate for her how to socially engage with others, even if they are not reciprocating. I am her teacher.

Our afternoons give way to more play time, dancing, singing, reading books, coloring, stacking blocks, building forts. Imaginations and creativity are welcome here. We eat our lunch, continuing to practice our table manners. Even with tired bodies ready to take naps, it is not acceptable for food to be thrown on the floor or shouting to take place. We use our words, and we say "please" and "thank you." I must show the little boy and the little girl how to appropriately engage with other members at the table. I am their teacher...

I seem to have forgotten that a teaching degree is only required for teaching in a government owned school building. I am a licensed school teacher, yes. But I am not needed in the public school system for now. I am needed here, in Pasadena, to be the most important teacher of them all. I am called to be teaching two little babes how to grow. I am called to be teaching them how to become worthy citizens of the community. I am called to be teaching them how to interact with others. I am called to be teaching them how to count and how to talk. I am called to foster and nurture their love for learning, knowledge and life.

I AM a teacher, and I'm pretty darn proud of my job.