every tuesday and friday afternoon, i have a creative movement class with the toddlers. we dance around, do lots of clapping and stomping, and play with cool music props like shaky eggs, drumsticks, and scarves.

the past couple of sessions, though, i've found that my sugar has responded to the jumping around by dropping through the floor. rather than interrupt the class, i simply stick my head out of the meeting room door and ask my co-worker to bring me an orange juice from downstairs (i keep them in the fridge). i can then drink the juice while the cd is changing and save everyone from the fabulous fainting laura.

then yesterday, one of the moms came up to me before the class started and handed me an orange juice. "here's your juice," she told me. there's no way she could know why i needed it, but she had noticed that i did and had moved to fill that need before i had to ask for it.

sometimes i feel like no one really appreciates what i'm trying to do here (you spend a day tangled in bureaucratic nonsense and then try to tell me differently), but today i have orange juice that proves otherwise.