there once was a girl...

Years ago, I used to sit behind her in church. I kinda wanted to be her.

She was tall and thin. She had long curly hair and big brown eyes. Two adorable blond boys and a handsome husband.

She was thoughtful and kind. She always had a smile on her face. During that time, we had common concerns and interests. We'd watch our busy toddlers in the vestibule of the church and whisper together.

Time passed and we both moved on.

And one day, not so long ago, one of my kids and one of her kids ended up in the same school together. In the same class.

I was happy to see her again. Several years had passed while we were both immersed in different schools and different churches.

I sat behind her again. In a different church. Her young boys now tall and lean.

And after a time, I watched as she grew thin and pale. And she began wearing hats to cover the patches of bare skin on her head, among those lovely brown curls.

And when we could, we whispered, of hope and healing and the future.

But it was not to be. We laid my beautiful friend to rest today. In that new church. With her boys and her husband grieving together in the front pew.

I believe in Heaven.

I believe there is a place where those whose days have been filled with pain and illness are healed.

Where there is peace for their anxious and tired souls.

And yet, I find it hard to believe that there could be any better place for a mother than right in her own home. Raising her boys. Packing their lunches.

Why can't Heaven be here? In a kitchen with no cancer.

May all of us who are blessed to be able to pack our children's lunches without pain or fatigue remember that that right there... is Heaven.

slice

I stopped in the school office Monday to unabashedly brag about how On Top Of Things I am this year. I've revamped my organizing system (to basically this one) and so far, I'm keeping up with the flood of school-related paperwork.

Seriously? I should teach a class for new parents on how to organize dates and papers. I'm THAT GOOD.

So way back when Shout was a newborn, (just go with me here for a sec) we contemplated the expensive medical road ahead and came to the conclusion that I might need to get a job simply for better health insurance. I looked at the skill set I had left after being home for 5 years and realized the only thing I was good at was slinging hash. (And by "hash," I mean FOOD, not hashish. Although I would probably sling either one if it got me a decent PPO.)

I decided I would be a good cafeteria lady. I'm used to cooking mediocre food for a crowd, I'm a little surly, and I wear orthopedic shoes.

Fortunately, the most expensive aspects of Shout's care have yet to hit us (if you can believe that), so I never had to go out and get that cafeteria lady job, but I've been holding it close to my heart.

This year, with everyone in school finally, I volunteered to help out on Pizza Day. Finally, my Cafeteria Lady aspirations come to fruition! One thing I am REALLY good at is passing out pizza from a box. If they gave out PhD's for that, I would have one. Summa cum laude.

My middle schoolers would be SO EXCITED to see me standing behind the counter with their pizza in hand.

"HI SWEEEEEEEEEETIE!!!!!!"

I even bought a hair net because I think the kids would LOVE that. And a Kiss the Cook apron. And little pizza slice dangly earrings.

Ooooh, I could hardly wait for Pizza Day this past Tuesday. I reminded them about 40 times that morning.

"I'LL SEE YOU AT LUNCH TIME!!!!"

Alas, about 15 minutes after I dropped them off, the school called. Pizza Day doesn't actually start until next week. (Something the Hairnet/Pizza Lady/Teacher of New Parent Organizing Classes should know, right?)

Sadly, I had to pack 4 lunches and drive them up to school. No hairnet. No apron. No earrings.

I can't WAIT for next week.

hitch

Head Mutha Flower Girl in Charge

I'm slow, but I'm still here!

We've now had an earthquake, a hurricane and a tropical storm that hovered overhead for 5 days and rained down so much water, I was afraid I was going to sprout mushrooms from my body surfaces.

Now, other than a vague terrorist threat, things are getting back to normal around here.

And by normal, I mean, well... our usual brand of craziness.

Let me first say that our LONG, LONG car trip last weekend was, frankly, amazing. Shout was AMAZING. Thirty minutes into the drive, we discovered that our DVD player was broken. And she was STILL... amazing.

Is this what it's like to take a road trip? Pee breaks, fast food, some squabbling and generalized whining, but no hysterical screaming? Really? Is THIS what it's like in other cars speeding down the highway?

Because I could totally do this again.

Even on the ride home, although we were tired and grouchy and enswirled in a tropical storm, it was peaceful. You know, as peaceful as a trip with four kids with limited bladder capacities can be. Ok, and I did take 2 xannies, so that probably helped. (It was the rain. And the mountains. And OMG I can't believe we didn't die. But the kids? Happy chatter. Even without xanax.)

The wedding itself was beautiful and full of energy. It was the first wedding on either side of our family of the next generation. The cousin of our kids. We're no longer the young people at weddings. We sit at the aunt and uncle table. (I haven't entirely made peace with that yet.)

Shout had to be bribed to perform ALL her duties as requested, but during the ceremony, she was exceptional. Her toddler-aged partner backed out at the last second, so she sashayed down that aisle alone, smiling and waving. (And forgetting to drop the flower petals, but who cares?) I'm astonished at the change in just a few months.

I'm so proud of her progress.

School is going ok. There's the usual cacaphony of whining about homework for the first few weeks. Until they all realize it's easier to just DO it, for God's sake.

Shout has had a few issues. Mostly social skills related. I'm wondering if that will be our next mountain to climb.

But all in all, she's happy and the school hasn't called me yet.

I'm still calling that a win.

and so it begins

I think school is going well. The building is still standing and the principal hasn't called me. Yet.

It's only been half days this week. Next week will be the true test. The older kids are getting used to new teachers and getting back in the groove of doing homework. I had forgotten how deafening their whining is while doing math workbooks. And writing sentences. Those poor babies.

So far, I'm getting good comments from Shout's teacher. "She's a leader." "She's first to finish things." "She's helping other kids." All things I had hoped would happen by having her do another year of kindergarten.

When I pick her up though, it's another story. The first afternoon, as other parents were videotaping their preshus kindergarteners coming out of the building, Shout yells to me that school is "BORING AND STUPID!!" And yes, I'm pretty sure it was captured on videotape. (Do we still call it videotape?)

But she got up the next day and got dressed to go back.

I think that BORING and STUPID are code words for "Ack. This is new. I'm anxious."

Today I asked her if the other kids at her table are nice. She said "Well! First of all, Madison is a MORON!"

Oy.

Why is it that when kids have trouble processing things, they default to anger and assholery? I've seen it before and even though it's not directed at me, it's still a little hard to take.

But as the professionals told me before, and I'm telling myself now, she's clearly holding it together at school and letting out the anger at home. So that? Is actually excellent. It would be nice if there was no anger at all, but since there is? I'd rather it happen at home than in the classroom.

Let's call this a win, shall we?

In other news, this weekend, Shout will be the flower girl at her cousin's wedding. Fingers crossed that a little of that good behavior will carry over. Because I'm planning on being in the Cone of Fabulousity.