11th Grade!

So, How's it Going?

The first week of school went well, and there has been a break in the weather, so now it truly feels like fall is here.

It was a mash-up of emotions for us as we launched Margaret to high school on the 8th, which is the same day we lost Jack four years ago. Aren't you so proud of her for boldly stepping into this new phase of her life? We are!

We felt the prayers sent to lift us up and appreciated all of  your messages of support.  On the 8th, Tim and I stayed home from work, looked at pictures, and cried. Then we went out to lunch, and cried. It was good let ourselves do that. By the time Margaret got off the bus and needed to head to her field hockey game, we felt strong and ready to cheer her on to victory.

I was going to try to describe the sense of lack we feel, with Jack not being able to drive Margaret to school and show her the ropes. Of not having loud boys in the house anymore--  a band of brothers looking out for her. But it goes beyond the words I have. I must admit for those of you who have juniors in high school, which is what Jack would be now, I am NOT missing the stress of the workload he would be experiencing, but that's the only thing I'm not missing, that's for sure.

I guess my thought for today is that Jack is still Margaret's big brother.

I don't know how it works, but I know it's true. So when you remember him, in your heart and your mind's eye, could you try to picture him as a 16 year old, not a 12 year old? Because Jack hated to look young for his age, I find it a cruel irony that he has been frozen in time. As we move forward every day in hope, let's bring him with us, not leave him as a little boy.

The new image will be hazy around the edges. There will be blank spaces, as we don't know what changes he would have experienced as he grew.  But we do know that Jack was an excellent son and  brother. We do know he relished friends and laughter. So it's safe to bet there would be cute a instagram shot with Margaret jumping on his back for a photo op at the first home football game. We can picture him laughing beside us on the couch as we watch TV. Or cracking up at Charlie's puppy antics.  We can also imagine there would be ups and downs. Maybe he wouldn't even LIKE us very much right now.

But there would be love. There IS love. We know enough to know that, don't we?

p.s. If you are in the PA area, I will be speaking at Grove City College on Friday night at 6:30 in Harbison Chapel. I'd love to see you there!

How (NOT) to Save on School Supplies

So Margaret needs a fancy-pants calculator for math this year.

This weekend we headed off to Target to do our school supply shopping and found the one we needed for $129.99.  Holy moly.

She chose the pink one, which I was happy about, because I remember from my teaching days that calculators like this tend to get stolen. I figured a bright pink one might be easier to keep track of than a black one.  We got out of Target for $199 plus change. Yes, we purchased most of her school supplies, but we also found some comfy sweats, blank t-shirts for tie-dying, an 18 pack of colorful pens that I just had to have, and a couple boxes of Special K. Target is a dangerous place.

Later that day, we learned that Staples had the same calculator on sale for $89.99! Except it wasn't really on sale; it just qualified for $5 off with a coupon plus a $35 rebate. Still, $40 bucks is $40 bucks, right? So Margaret and I planned another outing to go get a second calculator and return the first one to Target another day. Tim did a little online research and determined the same calculator, only in black, was $99 at Amazon, with free shipping. He posited: "Would it be worth the extra $10 and the color change to just stay home?"

Nah, Silly Man! We've got this shopping thing covered.

So we headed out to Staples. We took the toll road, which cost $2.00, but we were saving $40, so who really cared? Once we got to Staples, we easily found what we needed...and then some.

Yep, the pink calculator was there, but so was a wall calendar for me, and the binders Margaret still needed at $11 a pop. Eleven Dollars. Eleven. Oh for the days when I got the kids their binders at the thrift store for .69 each. I considered trying to slip some "vintage" binders by her later in the week, but these ELEVEN DOLLAR binders were in our hand, not in the bush, so we bought them.

We also loaded up on some spiral notebooks for our Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes. At the register, several other items mysteriously materialized in our cart: Burt's Bees lip balm, a bag of sour candy because our blood sugar was plummeting, and another jumbo pack of pens for me.

Staples Haul: $200 before $35 rebate. Oh, and what happened to the $5 off coupon? It was on Tim's desk at home, left there during his stint as an internet researcher.

Anyhooo, I am none too impressed with Margaret's and my shopping skills right now, and will tremble with fear until I unload the first calculator at Target AND get my rebate from Staples. Then there's the problem that I'll probably be tempted by other shiny objects at Target when I go. Or what if they have a sale on Boyfriend T's, cardigans, or miscellaneous plastic items?  How much is this calculator going to cost us????

So I guess what I'm saying is, I think Tim was right.

But you don't need to say anything to him. And certainly DO NOT tell him we ended up at TJ Maxx after Staples. It was right next door, and we really needed that pina colada scented candle and those mugs.

Update: Just dug through my purse for the Target receipt and it turns out the calculator was on sale for $90.00. Yep, all of this to save .01 

Who Has 2 Thumbs and Is Going to Have a Great Year in 6th Grade?

THIS GIRL!

Yes, I'm a PROUD Mama!

Feelings

I used to say that I was as shallow as a puddle. My friends would disagree, and I knew shallow wasn't really the word I was looking for, but I meant that I just didn't seem to experience things as deeply as others did. Sure, I cried at the drop of a hat from any perceived injustice-- an over plucked eyebrow, or another Friday night home in front of Falcon Crest-- but I also felt a steady undercurrent of hope and stability running through my life.

When I observed my friends, some of their highs were so high, their lows so low. They were SO! IN! LOVE! Everything mattered. They seemed passionate about guys, God, and life in general, which made me wonder, again and again, if I was missing something.

I never craved drama or excitement; in fact I tended to run the other way. Jerry Springer was certainly not a show I could watch...far too nervous-making. I felt like I needed an Advil and a Silkwood shower after seeing that kind of raw, shouting, chair throwing emotion laid bare.

Binge drinking, college drama, or jealous girl fights? No thank you. Just take the guy-- please-- it's not worth it to me.

I think I was drawn to an equally Steady-Eddie in my husband Tim, because although I was pretty sure we'd never wear each other's blood vials around our necks a la Angelina and Billy-Bob, or engage in all-night love fests, we were also unlikely to have all-night screaming matches or engage in name calling, unless the occasional whispered "Ass" out of earshot of the kids counts.

It seems weird to me that parts of my life story are dramatic.

But even in that drama, the way I've faced things remains pretty compatible with how I've always been. So, I often wonder, am I too restrained and repressed, or is this just how God made me?

Because I don't want to try to circumnavigate the pain of life by just quietly plodding through it! When my mom dropped dead so many years ago, I bought new pens and immediately started writing thank you notes. My siblings and I did not cry or moan together. We held it so far in as if merely saying the word "Mom" would transport us to a scary place of despair from which we could never return.

And when Jack disappeared into the creek, just seconds beyond my grasp, I knew I could scream and rail, but I didn't. Not really. Because what else is there to do as you sit in your dark kitchen with your friends, knowing in your heart that your son is dead, except put out cheese and crackers for your neighbor with low blood sugar because everyone missed dinner and it's going to be one hell of a long night?

Call it shock, call it denial, call it peace. I do not know.

I guess my biggest fear as an even-keel person, is that I will somehow plod, plod, plod through life like a robot. I DO NOT want to be this way simply because it is more socially acceptable, less messy, and quieter!

I want to make sure I let myself feel, if I even know how to.

At least on some level, I'm certain I do.

I know how it felt to have Margaret's dimply, toddler arms wrapped around my neck, giving my back an extra little pat because she knew I liked it. The world felt calm and safe and delicious. I know how it felt to mother Jack-- and how my delight in his depth and character made my heart grow larger in a way I can still feel when I think about him. How after 20 years I can still conjure a rush of love when I remind myself that a man who handles raw chicken for you, puts feta on your salads when you would have just settled for lettuce, and hands you two vitamins in the morning is far sexier than someone who lives life on the edge.

And I realize that writing is one way I let myself feel.

I may be doing ordinary things on a given day-- shopping for school supplies, doing time in the hell that is Abercrombie, working, or sweeping up dog hair in the kitchen (again!)--but through pausing and writing I'm letting myself "go there" in my grief.

It may not be dramatic. But it helps me. I just know does.

5th and 7th Grades. Wow.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Well, today was the big day! Molly switched from a 13 person class at a small private school to a 27 person class at our local public school. She was up early, dressed, bed made and ready to go. I was so darn proud of her.

The verdict? The bus was cool and a nice girl helped her in the cafeteria. We'll see how the year progresses. We have wanted to give public school a shot, and this seemed like a good opportunity to capitalize on the fact that she was excited about buses, bells, and picking out her own clothes. I'm not wild about our all being on different daily schedules, etc., but I hope it works out well.

I want to thank you for your prayers and kind thoughts today. They helped.

Jake doesn't start school until tomorrow... which meant a drastic change in look per the private school hair code.

Old Look:

Doesn't he look so happy?

New Look:


I felt like I was witnessing the 5 stages of grief on his face as he sat in the barber chair. This is right after Depression but well before Acceptance.