I'm baaaaack!

I thought I was over my writing slump a week ago. At the time, I didn’t know I’d be making a whirlwind trip. I also forgot Brandon would be working from home the next three weeks. He pretty much takes over our office, so my screen time is limited. You would think my floors would be immaculate as a result, but interestingly enough they still make my socks grey.

Most of you reading this know about my dear friend Robyn. You know she and her family are in the middle of a roller coaster NICU experience. For those of you whom do not, if you’ve been reading awhile you’ll remember her as my friend who lost twin daughters a few weeks apart a little over a year ago. Several of you even donated to her March of Dimes walk team knowing her only through my writing. Without going into too much detail, Robyn and her husband Keith, welcomed a new daughter, Rowyn, earlier this month. Rowyn had a very rough journey into the world and is now fighting serious health issues.

Isn't she a doll?! Oh jeeze, is this little sweetie LOVED!!!

I’ve thought of little else for the last few weeks, so I didn’t feel like writing about the day my beloved recycling tote blew over and sent milk jugs and newspapers flying through my neighborhood in sub-zero temperatures.

Then, rather unexpectedly, The O Town girls made a last minute trip to meet Rowyn all the way in Atlanta, Georgia. While the van ride down provided me with enough material to write 100 blog posts, our silliness seemed, well…silly in comparison to what Robyn was going through.

I just took a little break. However several people---alright three, but none are relatives---asked if something was wrong and told me they missed reading my take on life in a house where you’re guaranteed to pull rubber mulch out of the washer at least once a week. So, I’m back…and this post is super duper long, so if you’ve missed me, settle in. Grab your coffee Mary K.!

Because my brain is pickled, I can only remember events that have happened since this Tuesday, so let’s start there…at 3:45 a.m. That’s when my alarm went off. That’s when the coffee maker started brewing and the dog started barking as I backed out of the garage. It was preschool registration day and I had to get in line.

I know, I know. It’s crazy. Some of you will roll your eyes and shrug your shoulders in bewilderment. Those are the people who: 1.) Aren’t yet mothers. 2.) Are moms, but their kids are grown and when their children were small they registered them for preschool at Jack and Jill the week before classes started. OR: 3.) Live in a small town.

We’ve been at the same preschool since Alex was a toddler. If you don’t start in Mom’s Day Out, you’ll never get a spot in a preschool class…at least not the one you hope for. You would think I’d be a shoe in and have some sort of seniority. Nope. Yes, there are three different class options for someone Meredith’s age next fall, but to our family, there is only one option. Mrs. Judith and Mrs. Arleta’s Senior Preschool class.

These women would make Roy Disney cry. Not only are they exceptional teachers, but once a month or so they turn their classroom into a wonderland of learning. They call the days Imagination Destination Days, and they truly transport the kids into space, a pilgrim plantation, a post office, the Arctic…and on and on and on. These women are incredible and they’re also in their 60’s, with grandchildren. I lived in fear the last three years they would retire before Merdi got a crack at them, but joy of joys I got word today, they will be there next year!

There are only 24 available spots and I was bound and determined to get one. The spots are awarded on a first come first serve basis, so my friend Sally and I made a pact to do whatever it took. We got there at 4:!5 a.m. and we were first and second in line! Woo Hoo! I know. I’m insane. But, by 5:00 a.m. the parking lot was packed.

By the way, the doors don’t even open until 7:30 a.m. Wondering if it’s a free for all when they open the doors? Nope. There’s a system. The first mom there starts a numbered clipboard and everyone takes it to the next mom when her wheels touch the asphalt of the parking lot. Once the doors open, you sit in numbered chairs. A few dads wandered in and just stood at the front of the line looking dazed. They had no idea what they were in for and looked defeated when they found out their number was 68 and they were at the end of the hall.

I turned in my envelope with the big #2 on it and headed home. I had a feeling of euphoria! I felt like an adequate mother for the first time in months. The sunrise was beautiful! It was so pretty, I didn’t even pull out my camera as I knew there was no way to truly capture how stunning it was. I thought, “Oh look! That must be a pat on the back from God! He’s impressed with my dedication to my child’s education.” To bring me back down to earth, the man in the van in front of me suddenly opened his driver side door, vomited and kept driving.

Aren’t you glad I’m back?!