The Death Talk

Recently, we have had to have "The Death Talk" with The Big Girls twice.
The first time, it was in regards to a person, my aunt.  She didn't actually die, but she will, and probably soon.  I don't say that flippantly.  I love her, dearly.  She is a little kooky and crazy, but its all good, and she is probably the person in my extended family that I have spent the most time without, except for possibly one cousin to whom I am pretty close.  I've grown up around her, since she and my mom have worked together for my mom's business since I was very little.  I have traveled with her.  When I think of the beach, I instantly think of her.  I really do love her, and she is dying.  Slowly.  She has two artificial valves in her heart, and has since she was 17.  Her heart is totally failing now.  There isn't much anyone can do.  I knew she was getting worse, then, a couple of weeks ago, my Mom called to tell me that she may not make it through the next day.  They were at a very serious point where a procedure could be done to give her time, but it may also cost her life.  My Sister and I decided to go up immediately, but before I could leave, I had to tell The Girls why I was going. The Big One also loves this aunt.  She really does.  She looks forward to seeing her every time we go home.  The craziest thing of all is that this aunt taught The Big One how to whistle, and they are the only two people I have ever met that sound exactly like a bird when they whistle, and can only whistle like that.  Its makes for painful car trips, at times, but it is one of those endearing things in life that you both love and hate.  So, I had to sit her down and tell her that it was very likely this wonderful woman may not be with us any more, and prepare them for what seemed like the inevitable.  We were very lucky, though.  The Drs told us she would never go home, but they were wrong.  We got a little more time with her.  It won't be forever, but we will be thankful for what we get.
Talking to the girls was a difficult moment.
It was preparation, for what may be, and what will be.  It was preparation for today.
On the way back from a long work filled week with my family, My Husband called with bad news.  One of our guinea pigs, Pinky, died suddenly.  We have no idea why.  She seemed fine when he checked on them last night before he left for work  When he went in to check on them this after noon, she was dead.  The other one was trying to nudge her with her nose.  He didn't know what to do.  We talked as discreetly as we could with me in the car.  He took her out of the cage, and placed her in a shoe box until we could talk to The Girls and go from there.
For some reason, from the moment we got home, all The Big One wanted to do was play with Pinky.  Perhaps it was because The Girls were able to play with sugar gliders during the show, and it made them miss their pets, but rarely is she so intent on playing with them the moment she walks in the door.  We put her off.  A lot.  We had things to do.  We had a truck to unload.  At one point, she looked at My Husband and ask why he twitched every time she said Pinky.  Finally, we couldn't put off the inevitable.  We had to tell them.  IT was terrible.  The Big One broke down instantly, the moment she realized what we were trying to tell them.  We couldn't even finish before she was a bawling heap on My Husband's lap.  The Middle One was sad, but slower to process.  It will take her a while.  She will pop up and say something profoundly sad, then go back to being quiet.  It is her process.
We ask The Girls if they wanted us to take care of Pinky.  The Big One wanted to be a part of the burial.  The Middle One did not, which is totally fine. The Big One ask for flowers to put on her grave, and tomorrow, I will get all the things we need, and we will bury our little pet, their first pet.
This is a hard lesson.  We talked at length about pets and death at dinner.  Pinky was young and died suddenly.  We just don't know why.  That can happen again if we get another pet, and they need to know that.  They need to understand that no life is permanent.  We will always remember and love Pinky, though. They know that.  They will be sad for a while, and that is ok. They will cry more.  We all will some.  That's ok, too.
Some lessons are hard and I hate to see my children learn them.  I wish I could protect them from this, but that just isn't reality.  Death is just a part of life, no matter how much we wish it wasn't.  Though I sincerely hope that we can put off learning more from this lesson for as long as possible.

Total Failure

As a mom, we expect so much of our selves. Honestly at times I think we require perfection when it comes to what we expect ourselves to be able to do.   So, when you miss the mark on that idea of perfection, we feel like a total failure.  We feel like bad mothers, even if we are doing our best, if anything doesn't match up to that idea we had in our head.

We need to get over it.

The past couple of days have been pretty horrific around my way. Somehow,  I developed an infection in my surgery site. I wont go into too many details, but I have a small watermelon sized knot of infection hiding under my stomach and c-section scar. Its nice. After my Dr saw me, she ordered a CT scan, stat. That was all peachy keen until I found out I couldn't breast feed The Littlest One for 24 hours. I would have to pump and dump and I wasn't prepared in any way for that.  I'm sure people wondered what kind of test I was having as I sat there in the lobby of testing facility crying my eyes out.  While what I have could get pretty bad, it isn't life threatening, or anything like that.  It just means that from the moment they inject me with dye, I can't breastfeed my child.  That information, though, nearly sent me over the edge.
We had nothing in the line of bottle feeding.  We had no formula in the house.  We had no bottles of any kind.  I didn't even have a the little hand pump I used with both the older girls.  That all meant that in that moment, if my child got hungry, I had no means to feed her, at all, and that thought was unbearable.  It broke me.
I immediately sent my husband to the pharmacy there to see if they carried new born ready to feed formula in those little bottles.  They actually carried nothing as far as formula goes.
So, I sent him off to Target the moment he could go.  He bought those bottles so that we could have something just in case.
Still, even having the formula didn't make me feel much better.  My job is to feed her.  No matter what else I can, or can't do, as a mother, I feed my child.  My body is great at making milk.  I generally over produce.  I could feed her all day long, and sometimes I do.  So, the idea that my body could no longer provide for her just hurt my heart like nothing else could.  I felt like a failure.
That failure was compounded by the fact that The Littlest One hates bottles and formula.  She hates it.  AS soon as she was hungry, we whipped out one of those little bottles, and tried to feed her with it.  It didn't work.  First, she couldn't figure out how to get to the formula.  Second, she hated the formula.  Hated it.  She screamed for what seemed like an eternity because she was so hungry.  There was food there, but she just couldn't get it.  We tried everything we could to help her.  It didn't matter.  She must have screamed for 10 minutes, though it felt like hours, with us trying everything we could think of, before I finally ask for a medicine dropper.  I got the dropper, took the top off the bottle, and fed my baby a tiny bit at a time, until she had finally gotten just enough, about 2 ounces, to keep her from screaming, and she passed out from exhaustion.
I knew she hadn't eaten enough.  Her little body just couldn't keep up after all the energy she expended from being upset.  IF that doesn't make you feel like a failure as a parent, I'm not sure what would.

While she slept, I ran back to Target.  I got 4 different kinds of bottles, a hand pump, and some powdered formula on the advice of a friend, who says that the powered formula doesn't have as strong of a flavor as the ready to drink.  I would have bought anything I could if I thought in the moment that it would help.
I ran home and pumped, starting the process so that I could go back to feeding my baby the way I wanted to.
When she woke up, we were ready with a new bottle, and some fresh formula.  I had never made a bottle with powdered formula before in my life. Again, I called on a friend to make sure I knew what I was doing. The moment she woke up, she was crying, still hungry from before.  WE tried the new bottle, and she hated it.  She couldn't really make it work.  When she could get the formula, still hated the new formula, too.  Again, I was in tears, heartbroken.  I tried another bottle, and found one that we could at least make work a little together.  Even if she couldn't get the milk out, this particular bottle made it easy for me to squeeze the nipple and get the milk going to her.  She still screamed.  She still hated it.  WE managed to get another two-three ounces,  still below what she should eat, into her before she gave out again.  Thus was our heart breaking cycle.
It all made me feel like such a failure.  I don't think there is anything as heart breaking in the world, as the cry of a starving child.  It made me really feel for mothers in impoverished nations, where they do this every single day.  I couldn't deal with it for 24 hours, let alone live like that.  At least I know that once everything is all done, I will be able to take care of my baby the way she wants and needs again.  That should be a comforting thought, but honestly, in the moment it isn't.  We take everything to heart, and keep it there as mothers.  We should learn that doing our best, what ever it is, is ok, but we don't.  I really should take my own advice, and not beat myself up, but I can't.  Such is the life, and heart, of being a mom.

Why I love This

I love this picture.  I love finding little gems like this one on the internet.

I don't care about the supermodel in the back ground rubbing lotion on herself.  I honestly can't say I even know who she is except that TMZ mentioned her name.
It would be the men in the foreground that make me smile.  Just to be clear, it is not because they are naked old men, that is a little disturbing, but because they are totally naked, letting it all hang out according to the necessary star there, except for the hats and glasses.  I guess when naked sunbathing, protecting at least your face from the harmful rays of the sun is still important.  Not so much with any other body part.  Fantastic.

A Month of Thankfulness

Since November 1st, I have been participating in a month of thankfulness challenge I saw somewhere. I posted this on my moms group discussion board, but I love it so much, I want to carry it over to here.

Every day, I want to post something that I am thankful for. So often, we look at the bad, the negative, and dwell only on that. If, though, we took a month, just 30 days, to think of at least one thing we are thankful for every day, maybe we could change some of our own attitude, and maybe even that of someone else. Why not try to make the world a happier place for one.

So, here are my postings so far, with one more to come each day.

November 1st - I am truly thankful for all of the beautiful laughter I got to share in with my girls at bedtime tonight.

November 2nd - Today, I am very thankful for my mom, who answers the phone cheerfully and lovingly no matter how many times I call in a day.

November 3rd - Today I am thankful for the beautiful weather that allows me to wear a t-shirt instead of a snow suit.

November 4th - Today I am thankful for the relationship my little sister and I have. I love her to death, and I am so thankful that we have finally grown into, and grown up enough to have the beautiful relationship that we have now.

November 5th - Today, I am thankful for really good instant coffee. Just makes my life and attitude a little bit better some mornings. = )

November 6th - Today I am thankful for technology and all it allows us to do, like me help my sister (who lives in Atlanta) find her way when she is out and about and lost. If it weren't for cell phone, my internet connection and google maps, I swear we would have lost her long, long ago.

And finally, today. November 7th - Today, I am thankful for public library systems. That may sound crazy, but reading is a huge part of my life. It is all of my down time right now, and I know that I, like many, certainly couldn't afford to buy everything I read. My girls both love to read, too. We go to the library no less than once a week and always leave with a massive bag of books. So, I am thankful that my girls and I can go get books, participate in reading programs, story times, and enrich our lives, whenever we want. It is a fabulous thing to be able to do all for free, and sometimes, you just don't realize how great it is.

What are you thankful for?

Little Things Matter Sometimes

A piece of advice that may save your life, and mouths, some day.

Always check, and double check labels before you use something.

You may think you have the right product. If you didn't read the label though, you never know.

Why, you ask, is this so important.



One of those is chili powder. One of those is cayenne pepper. There is quite a difference between the two.

I only realized that the containers look different after I tasted the chili currently in my crock pot. It is a little spicy. Actually, a lot.

I'm not sure how much The Girls will like tonight's supper. We may be utilizing that buy one get one free kid's meal coupon I have for McDs. I think the grown ups will be able to eat it, though. If there is a bright side, on top of the label checking lesson, I can't breath well right now, and this may well take care of that tonight. Hey, I'll take what ever bright side I can get.

And The Sign Said "People with children need not come...to school"

Tonight was Back To School Night, aka Open House, at The Big One's school.

We didn't go because at the last minute, we were un invited.

Rude, huh.

I love Back To School night. I love talking to the teacher, checking out the classroom, all of it. I love being a part of her day to day experience, in any way I can. I try to be involved at school as much as I possibly can.

Then, today, I was told I wasn't wanted.

Well, only because I have children. The event was deemed adults only. Unfortunately, I have no one else to care for my children tonight, especially not when they notify you last minute. The first I heard that this was adults only was yesterday, when The Big One came home. She said something about it, but it sounded more like a request, understandable, and believe me, if it were easy and free for me to get a sitter at the drop of a hat, or if MimMim (grandma) lived here, I wouldn't take them anywhere I didn't need to, especially not when I wanted to talk to my child's teacher about that child. Shew. That would be great. Unfortunately, that isn't our reality. Our reality is that we are often a one parent household by way of the U.S. Navy, and definitely don't have the budget for an on call nanny. So, where I go, they go. I guess the school decided that wasn't ok with them.

I have a few issues with all of this. Just a few.

1) We are in a predominantly military area. This means many of the families that attend this school, like us, have no family, and no one to call on in a pinch that would be free. So, we are excluded from all adults only activities.

2) The notice was totally unacceptable. We got a phone call, followed immediately by a email carbon copy of the phone message, only this morning, after school had started. While it may have been difficult, had someone made this very clear the first day of school, which I grant you was just about a week ago, I could have called around to friends and begged for a little help. Someone, with some notice, would have been able to help me, but telling after the school day has started to suddenly change my plans is so unrealistic, I can't believe anyone who has ever been a parent would have done this.

3) The worst part of all it, and there are other arguments that could be made as to why having open house be adults only is wrong, is that we are a Title 1 school. Being a Title 1 school means that you have been recognized as having a large portion of your student population who belong to economically disadvantaged families. The schools are setup with extra funding and specific guidelines to assist these families in breaking down the barriers to those children's success. One of the greatest barriers to a child's success in school is a lack of parental involvement, and Title 1 schools are specifically supposed to combat that. In fact, they are required to have in place a plan on how they intend to improve communication between the school and parents. It would seem to me, that what this school did goes against everything that being a Title 1 school is supposed to be about. They, in fact, put up a specific barrier between the school and parents tonight.

The school could have done something that many other schools do; offer on site child care for those that had to bring their children. However, when I called to inquire as to why I was dis invited today, the front office staff told me that they had no place for childcare. I suppose that very large multipurpose room where were initially supposed to gather, then separate to our individual classes, wouldn't contain all the children that would be left behind? Wait. That doesn't make any sense. So, someone, somewhere, just dropped the ball, and upset parents. At the very least, I am upset.

I know for sure that there are parents who will be bringing children with them. I know there will be rule breakers. I am just not one of those parents. I might have feigned ignorance of this ridiculous demand, especially since it was sent so late I could have actually missed it, but I got called out earlier. My husband, trying to help out, and find out as much as he could, went to the teacher to ask what I should do, as the teacher and I had planned to discuss my assisting him with something right away tonight. The teacher ask that I meet with him tomorrow. So, I just couldn't go against his wishes.

While I am very upset, heartbroken truthfully, I will handle it the any adult will. I will make a huge fuss, stomp my foot a lot, and then be sure things are changed for the better. Hurting my daughter, though, is crossing the line. She was very excited for me to see her classroom, and so on. She said she cleaned her desk really hard today. She was totally heartbroken to see me so upset.

I will talk to the principal, and make sure they try to fix all of this before the next open house, because we just can't have The Big One hurt again, and she shouldn't be by a silly policy like this.

To Tell The Truth, Or Not

As I have well established, The Big One is quite a character. Though bright, she is often lost in her own world, and will say things that are very honest, but not always very appropriate. I generally attribute this to her blonde type personality. I work with her, reminding her when to speak out loud and when to use the voice inside her head only, or when she needs to wait until she is in private with an appropriate adult like mom or dad to ask these things, and we will continue to have to work on this. I Perhaps it is my strong southern heritage, but I am really hung up on making sure that we establish a and grow the filter that runs from her brain to her mouth at a young age. It isn't that I think you should always filter what you say. In fact, there are many instances where you shouldn't filter what you say, but be brutally honest. There in lies the hardest lesson to teach: when to speak up, and when to let things be.

The other day, after a long trip home, I realized that I may make this a more difficult lesson for my children to learn, because when I choose not to utilize my own filter, it often comes at odd moments.

Traveling with my children, or any child, is usually a working lesson in patience for parents. Our last trip was no exception. Even if your children are well behaved, there are inevitably other things that bring on extra stress, and having children there questioning why in regards to every issue increases the stress exponentially.

Our first stress full, filterless moment came as we entered the security line at out initial airport. I thought that at 5:00am on a Tuesday, there would be little airport traffic, and we should be able to get through the lines quickly. I was wrong.There were very long lines for everything, especially security.

After we checked in, we ran over to the security line. It was insane, and out flight was soon to be boarding. After a few moments, a security person came sort of close to use, and started speaking. She was close enough that I could hear her, but with the thick accent she had, she was not close enough for me to understand her. The next time she came around, and with the little bit we had moved closer, I realized she was calling out flight times. If you flight was at that time or before, they were puling you from the general line, and sending you through a short cut. That was us. We were running late. I grabbed The Girls and ran up to her. She checked our boarding passes and sent us to a short line. We bypass the entire maze of people, and were able to step right into the short lines for the x-ray machines. Just as another member of the security team told me which short line to get into, the real moment began.
As soon as The Girls and I stepped over, from behind me I heard,
"Oh, sure, let them go through, while I miss my business flight."

I turned to look at the man behind me. I wouldn't have really suspected him a business traveler, what with the scruffy jeans, vintage tee, and skate shoes, though I am sure he paid good money for his clothes to look that rough when he bought them. I turned back around, filter on, intent on ignoring him.
Until he started again.

"Sure. AS long as they get to go, everything is fine. If I miss my flight, I lose my job, but as long as they make it, everything is great."

At this point, the same woman who ushered me into my current line ask him when his flight was, and explained to him that they would pull him from the line as well, if they needed to, but that wasn't necessary just yet.
That, of course, did not pacify him. We got one more round of complaints, aimed at us.
At that point, I was done, and the filter was off for the remainder of the trip. I looked at The Big One, who had noticed the commotion, and said out loud, with intent, "Its ok, honey, sometimes, people are just jerks in the morning."
See. The filter came off. She needed to know that people act a fool, and he needed to know that he was acting a fool.

Honestly, it wasn't polite, and it isn't something that I want my children to learn at this age, calling names in particular. However, I also want them to understand that people don't have right to devalue them, or believe that they are any less important than anyone else in this world.

Had I been able to close off my children's ears for a moment, I would have loved to have told that man just that. He was no more, or less, important than anyone else in that line, and we would all be treated the same. Though it would have certainly been done with at least a modicum of profanity thrown in.

Our next filterless moment came shortly there after. On our outbound portion of this trip, we were actually required to run through the airport to make a plane change. SO, of course now The Girls think we must run through the airport all the time. It seems to be hilarious to them. So, we ran straight to our gate. Once we got there, the plane was already on general boarding. WE got in line, and once the boarding passes had been scanned, The Big One took off again to run. I called her back as The Little One and I were walking down the sky bridge.

"You don't need to run anymore. There is going to be a big line of people waiting to get one the plane."

And as I was finishing that line, we hit the line of people. WE took our place at the end, and The Big One looked at me quite confused.

"Mom, why is there a big line waiting to get on the plane?"

I could have been nice, at least, I think I still had the ability, and a little tact left in me, but I opted for a very direct approach on this one.

"Because people bring bags that are far too large to fit onto the airplane with them, bags that they aren't supposed to bring anyway, and that stand in the isle ways, blocking everyone else, and holding up the line, while they struggle to put these bags they shouldn't even have onto the plane. We have to wait until they finish to be able to get on the plane and take our own seats."

This made total sense to her.

"Our bags fit. WE don't' do that."

"You are right, but we still have to wait on people that don't follow the rules, and ruin it for everyone else."

I don't know if the man in front of me thought I was referring to him, because he instantly turned around. I wasn't, though. His carry on was just fine. I checked. He may have been looking to see if I looked as crazy as I sounded. I'm not sure. HE looked at me, then at The Big One, and then turned back around.

I fully realize that if my children don't quite get the filter thing right, I will be at least partially to blame. I suppose I can live with that, as long as they get it right most of the time, or at least know how to apologize should they need to. After all, sometimes, you just have to tell the truth. Nothing else will do.

Peter Pan and the Pirates - A 2fer

Today, something very special. This post is going to be a two post in one, aka a 2fer. Two great and related stories need to be told.

Last night, I actually got to turn on the TV and put it on a news channel. That is a rare and wonderful thing for me, a news channel junkie. The US ship captured by pirates was the story on at that time. The big one looked at me and ask "Are pirates real?"

"Yes. Pirates are real."

"Like Captain Hook?"

"Well, no. Not exactly, like Cptn Hook, but there are real pirates. These pirates captured a US ship."

"Oh wow." said with a look of disbelief on her face.

"Everything is ok. The crew got their ship back, and there is a US Navy ship there to protect them now."

"A Navy ship like my daddy's?"

"Well, sort of."

"You mean my Daddy is fighting pirates?"

"I guess he could be." I mean, it is possible, how ever not likely.

"Oh man! That means my dad is fighting Captain Hook!! Wait! That means my Dad is Peter Pan! My dad is Peter Pan!"
She was thrilled with her realization, and danced all around the room yelling that her dad is Peter Pan for at least a couple of minutes.

At this point, I couldn't respond. I was too busy trying to hold it together. I was laughing, but I wanted to be crying and laughing it was so good. If you had seen the sheer look of conviction on that child's face the moment she decided that her Dad was Peter Pan, you would have lost it, too. It was priceless.


Now, on to part two of our pirate tale.

Later on, my mom was telling my sister, whom I have mention before, about The Big One's epiphany. She only got to the part with the news story and Sis stopped her.

"Wait. You mean there are real pirates?

Seriously. My sister just ask if there were real pirates. I swear. My mom told her of course.

"You mean like Johnny Depp? Real pirates?"
No really. She ask.

My mom went on to tell her it was all over the news, and tell her about them. I love my sister, and I think this is more proof positive that somehow, my daughter is just like her.

To make the tale even better, Sis was out to lunch with a friend of hers who is from Sierra Leone and the friends mom. The friend came to the USA in order to go to college. She is very intelligent, speaking multiple languages,with multiple degrees. You know, a nerd. Sis starts to tell the tale of the pirates, and gets to the same point in the story as my mom did, and her friend stopped her.
"Wait. You mean there are real pirates?"

My sister was thrilled. Having someone that she considers uber smart echo her same questions seemed to give her some sense of validation, and that she wasn't that off for not knowing that pirates still existed.

I was discussing this with her, and she assured me that she could go out and find 10 people she knows that didn't know there were rel pirates now. I assured her that was not necessarily a good thing. Her parting line, and the line that I let finish the conversation because I couldn't take any more, was "I'll be honest. My friends and I care more about our hair than pirates." Right on. As long as you know who you are, and are proud of it. You just keep on, keeping on.

Love you, sis and thanks for the great stories to post.

The Hardest Line

Sometimes, life is a very difficult balancing act.

You have to find a way to balance the needs of those around you, your needs, your family's needs, and so on, to make things work for your life like they need to and should.

As a young person, it is easy to allow your life to be totally out of balance. You don't care what happens, you just do what you do to have fun, and be young.

As you get older, and hopefully more mature, though, keeping things in balance becomes so important. You find you really can't quite function with out it.

Keeping that balance, making your life what you want it to be, sometimes requires very difficult decisions.

Tonight, I made a very difficult decision. I had to say no to a friend whom I love dearly. As a friend, she wears the title of best for a reason. However, as much as I love her, and I do, I can not in good conscious say yes to something she ask. It isn't a little thing, and I don't say no lightly. In fact, no is a very painful word for me right now. However, I have to look at all the things in my life, and see where my decision falls. I took some time, a lot of time, and looked at how this decision would throw things out of balance for me. If I said yes, it would affect my family in a negative way, and frankly, I can't afford to do that anymore. Saying yes, even though I desperately want to, would cause more harm for us, than it would good for her. The teeter totter would be sitting with her in the air, in the good seat, and my family stuck on the ground, legs all bunched up around them, just waiting to get up, at least to the middle ground again.

I also have to keep a very precise mental balance. My life is full of so much stress right now, that I border on being off balance at any moment. In fact, the stress of just her question alone has tipped the scale in a way that I can not allow to continue. Some of the things that cause my stress I can not change, no matter how I want to. They are the facts of how we live our lives, and so I must deal with them. I have to take a very careful look at all the things that are weighing on me, and decide what I am able to cut. This is the one thing I can cut. While tonight, I am deeply saddened, and have shed many tears over my decision, I know that in the long run, it was the only thing I could do, to even attempt to regain my mental balance.

I did make an attempt before saying no. I tried to find a way to make it work, but both people on the teeter toter have to work together, and be willing to sit in the mid position, for it to be able to stay like that. She wants to be up in the air right now, and maybe she has earned her turn to be there. I just can't keep my family down, in order to keep her up.

If I were younger, I would have said yes, without thinking. I would have moved mountains to say yes. Come hell or high water, I would have been there. I can't do that anymore, though.

I have to make the hard, grown up decision. I have to look at my girls, and know that I am doing the right things for them. The right thing for all of us, even if it isn't the easy thing.

So, I say no. With a heavy, sick heart, and very sincerely hope that she enjoys her time sitting high as much as she possibly can. I hope she loves every minute of it, and when she is ready to come down again, I hope she can find her own balance.

She was late!!

I'm heart broken. Lilly was late to school for the first time today. Being on time to school everyday is such a big deal to me. I was never on time. I learned that behaviour early on from my mother, and I refused to carry it on to my own children.

She wasn't very late, maybe 60 seconds. We were at her school when the bell rang. She was late about the amount of time it took for her to take her backpack and coat off, and hang them up. I zipped up her back pack, and put her coat where it needed to be, just so she could get in.

It really broke my heart. I know in the grand scheme of things, that 60, or even 120, seconds of being tardy won't matter. It will however, stick out in my mind. I have to fight against the onslaught of feelings like I should just give up on our fight to keep her on time, every time.

I walked the whole what home thinking if this and if that. If she hadn't thrown all the shoes out of the shoe basket, sot hat she had to pick them all back up again before leaving the house. If she had actually gotten dressed, and paid attention to what was going on... If she would just put her shoes on by herself, with out making me stop getting Ava and me ready to go... If I had gotten up a few minutes earlier so that I could push her.. If I hadn't insisted on making coffee before we left, coffee that I didn't even have time to drink.... All those ifs, though, do us no good. As the saying goes, If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we could have Christmas all year long. Well, the time for Christmas is passed, and the time for ifs has also. Instead, we both need to make this a lesson learned. She needs to learn that she really can be late in the mornings, and that she needs to prioritize better, choosing carefully what really needs to be done, and what doesn't, in the mornings. I think lesson also applies to her mother, who is trying with all her might to undue to lessons of her own ever tardy youth. Hopefully, we can work on that lesson together tomorrow, and the day after, and so on. We can get this one, together, and be the better people for it.