I have a longstanding policy that allows my students who are parents to bring their children to class on the rare occasion that they cannot make other provisions. This policy grew out of basically two appreciations on my part: first, that missing class puts students at a disadvantage; and, second, that being a parent and going to school is often a highly complex juggling act.

I spent many a year as a single mom- first in law school and then as a doctoral student – so I know the reality of trying to keep it all together. Now as a faculty member I can fully appreciate the struggles students experience when they have to miss classes. As a result of my experience in both roles, I try and remain flexible for parents – hence the policy.

The truth be told, the number of students with kids in each class is a handful at best (often, not even that many). On an average semester I maybe have one or two class sessions where the policy is utilized. I think the parent/student is typically more horrified to bring the child than the class is to have them. I have always been impressed with the flexibility and graciousness the other students in my classes have shown the fellow student and child.

Yesterday, my policy was utilized by a student who has an adorable two-almost-three year old son and I have to say that it made my day. 99% of the time when kids are brought to class they are seemingly disinterested in class material and coloring or doing other things- like sleeping (I have had a couple of dads bring in sweet little babies). Not yesterday though…oh no…yesterday I had a child who clearly will be an emergency management professional when he grows up.

Kids that age have virtually no censor. You can try and keep them quiet, but it rarely works. When Cheyenne was this age we went to my son Noah’s graduation from boot camp at Fort Knox (by the way, be careful with photo taking at that installation…I’ll share that story along with my other Army base trials and tribulations at another time). While there, we were in a chapel that was very quiet (you quite literally could have heard a pin drop) and Cheyenne decided she would start singing (there is something about the absence of noise that compels toddlers to add sound to the environment).  It wasn’t Broadway show- Ethel Mermen type- singing, but it was audible (albeit, very cute and sweet). Of course I, as the mommy, tried to quiet her by saying quietly in a whisper, “Cheyenne, it’s not your time to sing right now. You need to be very quiet in here.” There was a momentary pause while Cheyenne processed my comment and then she turned on her heel to look at her dad and said – now in her Ethel Mermen voice evidencing great drama and disdain, “Daddy, Mommy said it’s not my time to sing!” So we went from a sweet, quiet singing toddler to an angry, loud complaining toddler. It is a moment that lives on in my mind with vivid clarity.

So, yesterday my newest and youngest student of the semester attended class. He responded to the questions I posed to the class and made comments about the things I wrote on the board, and we all laughed a lot at his interest in mitigation funding programs. There wasn’t a question I posed in class that he did not respond to. That is the funny thing about toddlers – they speak back to you when spoken to. They have not mastered the college student technique of looking down or having that puzzled “I am still considering what you asked” look to avoid responding to your questions.

It has been a long and terribly hectic semester. Having a toddler in class was a good way to lighten up one of our last classes (and he was quite a good role model – he answered all the questions correctly). Plus it was a timely reminder for me of the realities of students trying to balance parenting with school work. I cannot really recall how I survived the feat, but I can tell you that faculty members were exceedingly gracious with me through the years. I consider every effort on my part to do the same merely a pay it forward effort. Plus…who doesn’t love a toddler who has all the right answers?

Day one hundred and fifty-seven of the new forty – obla di obla da

CC