I pulled up to the stop sign not far from my neighborhood. Music floated through the car like fog – not loud enough to be truly heard, but not quite soft enough to equate silence. The sun was shining. I turned right at the stop to meet a friend for walking at the mall in what turned out to be a Friday ritual. In the back seat was my new baby, my first-born son. No other children yet to grace the spots behind me. One year earlier, I was standing at a white board teaching phonics and double-digit subtraction with twenty-four sets of eyes on my every move.