I survived. Not sure exactly what it is that I survived, but nevertheless here I am. I received a late night phone call tonight from a friend. With disbelief I listened as she explained that somehow the small town rumor mill was churning and I was the victim. Literally. One of Sam's pre-k classmates who is apparently in the same elementary school as Sam (but in a different kindergarten class) heard that Sam's mom had died. Seriously. So the child told his mother. Who texted or called or spoke to various other pre-k parents. Who also texted or called or spoke to others...and eventually ended up contacting a friend of mine...hence the mysterious call hoping to hear my cheery voice.
As I laughed about the ridiculousness of rumors among kindergartners and wondering what (if any) part my charming 5 year old had in this mess, I joked with my friend about her pre-phone call activities: checking facebook and my church's website making sure there was no news of my untimely demise. Unsettling.
It is the second day of school. Seriously.
I survived the first day without crying. But not the second day without...dying. Nice, huh?
It's been a month of reflection and treasuring memories for our family. End of summer. Learning to swim. Potting training twins...or trying. Celebrating 95 years with Ben's sweet grandma and then sadly attending her funeral. Laughing with out of towners about life and love and childhood. Praying for a serious family health need. Prepping for the first day of school. Smiling with pride at the all-grown-up kindergartner headed off to his classroom.
Sigh. I know, I always say it. Where does the time even go? I am planning a second birthday party for little ones, and all I can think of is bringing my olive-skinned firstborn home from the hospital and wondering how in the world we could actually be parents.
We survived.
And when Sam wakes up in the morning and prepares to head off for another fun-filled day of learning, I will innocently inquire about any conversations he may have had at recess about his mommy dearest meeting Jesus.
It is the second day of school. Seriously.
I survived the first day without crying. But not the second day without...dying. Nice, huh?
It's been a month of reflection and treasuring memories for our family. End of summer. Learning to swim. Potting training twins...or trying. Celebrating 95 years with Ben's sweet grandma and then sadly attending her funeral. Laughing with out of towners about life and love and childhood. Praying for a serious family health need. Prepping for the first day of school. Smiling with pride at the all-grown-up kindergartner headed off to his classroom.
Sigh. I know, I always say it. Where does the time even go? I am planning a second birthday party for little ones, and all I can think of is bringing my olive-skinned firstborn home from the hospital and wondering how in the world we could actually be parents.
We survived.
And when Sam wakes up in the morning and prepares to head off for another fun-filled day of learning, I will innocently inquire about any conversations he may have had at recess about his mommy dearest meeting Jesus.
I cannot believe you blogged about this ;)! Jon and I are laughing so hard...just glad to hear your voice, friend ;)!
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