Crazy...

The bags for extra clothes at the back of Lee's 1st grade room.



Mr. Stevens preparing a drawing for his students.


A corner of the 1st grade classroom at the Rudolf Steiner School - Manhattan.

I am crazy for my husband. I said good-bye to him in New York on Sunday - kisses at the door of a Super Shuttle. I flew to my home in Minneapolis.

On Monday, he began a new life - teaching (rather taking) a group of 25 first graders at the Rudolf Steiner School in Manhattan. It is a Waldorf school. In the Waldorf method, the teacher moves with the children from 1st through the 8th grade. This is a DESTINY thing. Not a job. A spiritual path. He, along with the parents, is partially responsible for the souls of these children. Because, when you are with children from age 6 to age 13, you are more than incidental in their lives - you help shape their lives. I am madly in love with him tonight.

He has taught this class for two days. (The first day was celebratory and ritualistic - the beginning of a new year and a new first grade.) On his first full day he told me about how it rained all the night before and when the children arrived, they went to the terrace outside their classroom - open to the sky. There are deep dirt-filled tubs - some planted, some ready for spring bulbs. On Tuesday, they were filled with earth worms crawling to the surface and the children had so much fun with them. In the end, they left them safely in the dirt. But remember, these are New Yorkers! How many have yards to dig for earth worms? This must have been a special treat.

Today's story was simpler. He says the children are incredibly sweet. Just before they went out to play (in Central Park!) Lee looked down. Charlie, an especially dear and small boy, was sort of hanging out right near him. Lee said, "What's up, Charlie?"

Charlie said, looking up (and remember this is only the third day of first grade!) "You are the best teacher I've ever had, Mr. Stevens." And he gave Lee a big hug around his leg.

I adore this man. My son has friends who are 22 who make 10 times what Lee makes in a year. It's not why I love him.

He's smart. (He's writing his Ph.D. dissertation on "The Future of Ego"- something which even his dissertation editor had to clarify, it is so frigging esoteric!) and he is kind. He makes me laugh. (He's a great lover.) He loves kids. What more can you ask for?