I loved all of it (most of it) but for God's sake, it's almost Thanksgiving. We even did the damn crayon and leaf rubbings and framed them. All 30 pounds of him.Ĭhuck and I made Junior two costumes this year. Everett couldn't keep up with the older kids, so I carried him the entire time. I refuse to feel ashamed because I wasn't aglow in the joy of doing Halloween for the fifth time. I had assumed we all couldn't wait for it to be over.īack at the homestead-and again basking in the delicious heat of the furnace-I told Chuck I wanted to punch Mr. I had assumed we were all in the same boat: miserably dragging ourselves through the cold and snow so our already-indulged children (who'd celebrated Halloween last week at a neighborhood party and at a school-wide costume parade) could again experience the novelty of trick or treating. "You seem to be doing a lot of complaining," he said. Most of the neighbors agreed, except for one father. "What are we doing? Our parents wouldn't have braved a nor'easter for us-so we could trick or treat for a handful of candy. "She's right!" I cried as we walked away. "This is ridiculous," I said to an elderly women who greeted us at one door. One kid fell off the steps and into the shrubs. Rather, every 10th house had their lights on, so we did a fair amount of trudging. I don't say that I'm thankful nearly enough on this blog (in fact, sometimes it horrifies me how much I kvetch), but I really am thankful. I hope you're thankful for all the things that are going right in your life, and equally as hopeful about all the things that are going wrong. If you eat too much, I hope you own pants with an elastic waistband. I hope you're fabulously close-or deliciously far away-from your family. I'm not so excited about the prospect of sitting in traffic, trapped in a car with two kids under age five, but it'll be an adventure, and if you couldn't tell from my last post (was it really two weeks ago?), I really could use an adventure. This year our friends in Maryland invited us to their house. When the holidays come, we're so sick of each other we're all desperate for an excuse to do something else. All of my family lives nearby, so we see each other all the time. There never really is a "far away" when something like this happens.Ĭhuck and I are getting out of town with the kids for Thanksgiving. I'm going to go crawl into bed with Junior and kiss his face. And it is so gut-wrenching and bittersweet that who and what we are reaching out to for comfort (children, spouses, parents, loved ones, pets) are here with us so fleetingly. I now have given that same hug to my children about 4 million times.ĭuring times like this, we are so helpless. The next moment my mother was at my apartment, hugging me like her life depended on it. We cried as we watched the images of frightened people, covered in white ash, walk down the streets. My mother and I were on the phone, watching the news as the towers fell. I was home sick from work when it happened.
I don't know which reaction is right: "Oh, good" or "What have we become?" "This will be instrumental in planning future lock-down drills" the email read. Elementary school kids? Losing a tooth is earth-shattering, never mind a friend or teacher or principal.Īnother piece of communication reassured parents that one of the senior staff just got back from specialized SWAT team training. I've put in my time to become desensitized and weathered and strong.
Is there anything more heart-breaking? Honestly, I don't even care about my own distress-I have 38 years of coping skills under my belt. Instead many parents are reading letters like this:
How to make friends on the bus and how not to spill your juice box on your school work. Elementary school was supposed to be about learning numbers, and how to write and read. The tragedy didn't really hit home though until the communication started coming in from Junior's elementary school. We have been careful about listening to the radio and watching the television because we didn't want Junior to hear the news reports, but details have trickled in, and they're horrifyingly sad. Like most people, I spent the weekend wandering around the house asking Why and wiping away a steady stream of tears. We live in the southeastern part of the state, "far away" from Newtown (anything more than a 45-minute drive is "far away" in Connecticut speak). Since I blog from an unnamed town in Connecticut, I wanted to write to let people know that my family and I are okay. Since I started working from home last spring, every hour has a price tag attached to it and by the end of the day, when the dishes are finally done and the kids are finally in bed, I'm toast. I'm sorry I haven't written since Thanksgiving.