Home again, home again
One week, three pictures, various levels of success.

Today was such a day.

Oy, today. Today was a day. Sophia had the day off, for Columbus Day, because apparently people still do that? What's worse, on Friday she told me that her teacher mentioned that there was no school on Monday, and I said, "Oh, I think you misunderstood, sweetheart." Then when we were leaving church on Sunday, Father Ed recognized Sophia as a student and said, "Enjoy your day off tomorrow! No school on Monday!" and I took her by the hand and said (like a big ol' lie-y liar), "Yep, that's right! We're sleeping in!" as though I had any inkling at all about it. Then I came home and finally checked the school calendar, and guess what? Heh. 

So I had to punt on my plans for the day, because Tre was going to meet friends for lunch, and I had been expecting all the other kids to be in school (Raphael has homeschool enrichment on Mondays, so those are paaaaartay days, if by "party" you mean frantic running of errands). But it's fine! Fine! I've been missing Sophia fiercely since she started school, so it would be churlish of me to not enjoy an unexpected day for just the two of us, right? Okay, I did pawn her off on Tre for a few hours, so I could get some things done, but that was as much for them as for me.

Anyway, I asked Sophia what would make her day off special, and she said lunch out and a trip to the park would do it, so that's what we did. However, as we pulled up to the park, I got a call. Without going into details that might embarrass anyone unduly, one of my children was facing disciplinary action at school, and needed to be picked up.

Okay, look. I really am not intending to embarrass anyone here, but I'm mentioning it because 1) it's what actually happened today and 2) sometimes I think I present a sanitized picture of my life that looks way more successful than it really is. Sometimes my kids are jerks, and today was one of those days for one of my kids. It's not a crisis, it's just one of those stupid bumps in the road that make you turn to look deep into the eyes of someone you have loved since before they drew their first breath, someone you would cheerfully take a bullet for, someone you adore and admire and hope every good thing for, and say, "WHAT THE HELL? WHAT. THE. HELL." You know. THAT sort of day. 

I was still dealing with this stuff okay, but yeesh. You do not throw a monkey wrench into my day without ducking shrapnel, okay? I have schedules. OVERLAPPING SCHEDULES. I have places I need to be and support people lined up to make things happen and bring children home at the appointed hours. I immediately hopped on the phone to reconfigure...everything. How long could I stay at the park with Sophia for her promised special day at the park? And if Mom picked up the other (not in trouble) child, when could I drop off that check at that child's school, and could Tre keep Sophia so she didn't have to witness me murdering her sibling? And would there be time to start the stew for dinner when I got back from said murder?

As I wandered around the playground, orchestrating The Afternoon 2.0, I walked past a little boy. Unfortunately, I walked past him just as he hauled back and threw a plane as hard as he could. Into the side of my head.

It was just a foam plane, could not have been lighter and still had actual substance. It did not hurt me, but just made a loud noise against my head and startled me, and I jumped and yelled "OUCH" into the ear of whomever I was consulting with at the moment. The little boy looked back at me with huge eyes and said, "I was just trying to throw it back over there," which isn't technically an apology, but as it is with terrified little boys, I'm pretty sure what he meant was, "OH NO, AM I GOING TO JAIL NOW?" I muttered back that it was fine and walked away, but that was the last straw. With one lightweight plane to the side of the head, all my can-do attitude crumbled, and I became convinced that life was terrible and I was clearly a failure at everything, in every way.

Well, now I'm not sure how to end this, because it sure seems like I was building up to some sort of Lesson there, doesn't it? Maybe about grace and mercy or something fine like that? But all that happened was that I dropped off Sophia with my mom, who was treated to a frantic rant about the sins of the wayward child, I drove off to pick up said wayward child, I did not in fact kill him, and after dinner (beef stew over mashed potatoes, which was EXCELLENT, by the way), we all felt better. Tomorrow is already winging its way toward us, and I suppose all will be okay eventually. 

At least I cleared up that pesky "sanitized picture" problem, right?



I like your way of mentioning-without-embarrassing. I've been having trouble with that myself: I GET why bloggers basically stop blogging about their kids when those kids are teenagers---but then how will the rest of us know what's what? It's as if bloggers with newborns wouldn't blog about the way babies need to be fed during the night, or about how sometimes babies cry and cry and nothing helps, or about postpartum hormones. SHARING IS HELPFUL. Buuuuuuuuut with teenagers it IS different, and how to manage it? Well, you just managed it: I have no idea what happened, or to whom, AND I don't have that "teased" feeling: what I have is that my kids are not the only ones the principal has to call home about.


Isn't it funny that our minds are constantly on 'figure it out' mode. Cause that's all we need to do, figure it out and life will be good. Nothing like a plane to the brain to knock all that nonsense out of your head.


It's always just when I think I'm doing okay with the parenting thing that all hell breaks loose. Had one of those days a couple months ago. TWO of my children needed to be murdered on the same night. For different reasons. It was very discouraging. I'm definitely failing this parenting thing.


I am with Swistle---I virtually stopped blogging because the teenybaby humans I made are becoming whole and actual adultishy teen-thing humans, who get to tell their own stories. It's a weird, tough line to walk, and I love how you navigate it. ALSO, GOOD JOB NOT EATING YOUR YOUNG. And listen, I do not think you sanitize. I think you tell the things you want to remember. This blog has always read to me like a love letter to love itself, and to your kids. You are great and that is all.


I know I'm guilty of that pesky sanitized picture thing with my teen/adult kids, but oh well. And I'm with Joshilyn - I write the things in my blog I want to remember (and wow, it works! I love being able to look back almost 10 years!). Quite frankly, I don't want to remember when my son… never mind. I'll sum up with they're good kids, who make mistakes sometimes, just like us.


See? This is why it's awesome that you have more than two kids! Because if *I* told a story about being with child 1 and then having something happen to some OTHER child, well, there's only one other! And he/she would be totally outed. Which he/she would probably deserve, but still.

See? You even planned for such blogging eventualities in your family planning! And you think you're not on top of things... :-)


Too bad you can't clone yourself. Of course that would mean twice the mental anguish. Nevermind. I told someone today that I wanted to crawl down into the foot of my bed under the covers and curl into a ball. Ha!

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