Back to School for All

The other day I bought notebooks. It might sound like a meaningless act, relatively uneventful and unsubstantial an experience. However, before you judge, first understand that I bought 35 notebooks. Yes, 35… a shopping cart full of notebooks. Now, THAT is substantial. Between satisfying the school list of both my children, and that of my own upcoming graduate school requirement, the grand total was so much more than I could have imagined. However, beyond the quantity of my purchase, was the underlying meaning of what this experience meant – summer is almost coming to a close. Sigh! Yes, it is true. Less than a month from now, my kids will be shuffling through the halls of their elementary school while I will most likely be running to my classes. Though both experiences bring some nervousness, they also symbolize a new beginning – kindergarten for my daughter,...

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Between dancing, acting class, school activities and baseball, I am bone tired. Of course, I am not participating in any of these wonderful programs, but nonetheless, by this time in the year, I have just about had enough of rushing, driving, organizing, practicing, studying and cheering. I want to sit and relax and not have to think about a thing or plan the next day’s activities. I know it is all fun, and of course, I am so proud of my little boy and girl who love to participate in all of it. But, it is all hard work on the parents. Keeping track of rehearsals, game schedules, pictures, plays and recital is nothing short of daunting. But as a parent, the end result is always more important than all the complaining and hard work it takes to make our children happy. By the end of June, I expect to be sitting on the couch with my feet up sipping a cold cocktail. Here’s...

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I can’t imagine anything (anything!) in this world worse than losing a child. Today, I heard about a young neighborhood boy of 8, Aiden, who yesterday lost his battle with cancer. I never met this boy but knew a lot of people who are friendly with his parents and who have told me what an inspiration this young child was to them. Hearing about his battle for many months, I feel the pain and ache in my heart which I know is nothing compared to the one his family and friends are experiencing. It is so hard to make sense of something that is utterly senseless.

Ask any parent what their most treasured wish for their children is and he/she will most likely answer, “a long healthy life.” Unfortunately for some, this does not always come true. Children fill our hearts with so much joy… their innocence and love...

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Parent-Teacher Conference

Parent-teacher conferences are coming up – my favorite part of the school year. For about 15 minutes twice a year, parents are able to glimpse into the world our children live in for most of the waking hours of their days. I love walking through the halls, looking at all the assignments hanging on the walls and seeing the desk my children sit in. Yet, I always feel a sense of emptiness… I want to know everything my kids do in school… what they say, who they play with, funny moments that I am missing. I always get good reports but I want to scream at the teacher, “Tell me more!”
So, I sit and wait for my big day to arrive… hoping that in this conference the teachers will say something that will transport me into my children’s secret lives in school.


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My daughter makes molasses seem like weeds. She is so slow that we have to always tack on an extra half hour whenever we need to get anywhere. It drives me crazy! At the ripe old age of 4, she already takes at least a half hour in the bathroom every morning. She takes her time getting her toothbrush, neatly placing her toothpaste on the brush, wetting it, positioning it on the side of the sink, shutting off the water, brushing, spitting out, repositioning her toothbrush on the side of the sink, turning on the water again, cleaning out the sink, shutting off the water and brushing again. You get the picture. And don’t you dare try to rush her— it will only tack on another ten minutes of arguing and denial. “I am hurrying. Mom, please leave me alone. I am doing it.” Summoning all of my patience, I offer some help. “No, Mom, I am big,” my daughter...

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