My Newest Favorite Pictures

These are my newest favorite pictures...and I think they will be for a very, very long time.

The other day, I was taking care of my nieces, E and D. Their momma was in the hospital, giving birth to their little sister (more on that saga in another post - maybe. If she'll let me...), and I had to run into school to write up sub plans for the next day's classes - just in case. I'm that hyper-organized teacher who leaves highly detailed sub plans with check lists, seating charts...even back-up plans for my back-up plans.

Anyway, we three girlies went on an adventure to school (E and D are 3-years and 2-years, respectively, so I can fool them into thinking school's an adventure), but when we went to leave, the traffic in the parking lot was HORRENDOUS.

Spending 30 minutes, in the car, waiting out traffic, in a PARKING LOT, with toddlers was not my idea of "fun." Sooooo, Auntie Jane tricked them into believing that a walk around campus is an amazingly awesome part of our "adventure."

That's when we realized that C was still on campus. C is easily one of my favorite people - she's loyal, loving, HILARIOUS, grounded, understanding...AND she's a bundle of nuclear-fusion type energy packed into a tiny frame. She's also the dance teacher.

The woman pulled out tutus, used binder clips to cinch in the waists, turned on songs from Disney movies, and gave the girls the BEST impromptu dance party anyone could ask for.

Between my own (rather rocking) dance moves, I was able to catch some pictures.




Love this one of D. Kills me. I wish we could all have that kind of innocence.




E slays me, here. When did she get so grown up?




And this one. This one just makes my heart smile. D's face cracks me up, and I love that C is playing along...

My friends are the best. I am truly a blessed woman.

...of Band Concerts...

School band concerts are always an adventure. Always.

Friday's was no different. Our band teacher is amazing, and I love how hard he works, and I love the huge amount of professionalism he gets out of our kids.

I didn't go to the concert for him. I also don't go because of the music (some good, some...well...). I go because there's a bunch of kiddos, MY kiddos, who are in the beginning level of band, and who are so, so, sooooooo excited to show off their musical chops (ahem, so to speak).

My sixth graders were first. As they came out, my buddy, K, who teaches our older students, leaned over to whisper to me, "They're so SMALL!"

I, on the other hand, was flashing back to the beginning of the year, and I was thinking the exact opposite: "They're so BIG!!!"

Big or small, they're still only 11. And, 11-year-olds do what 11-year-olds are prone to doing when they file out to begin a band concert - they wave at their families. It's adorably cute.

My favorite moment, of the whole night, was right after everyone finished waving. The band teacher, Mr. B., stepped up to call this band to attention. Right at that moment, right after everyone was set to go, J (stubborn, drive-me-nuts, can't-get-with-the-program, I-sometimes-pray-he's-absent-just-for-my-sanity) pops out of formation to wave at one last person.

Me.

Been Reading...and Thinking...

Note: I wrote this back in January, and somehow I never pressed the "Publish" button. I was digging through my archives and found it. Somehow, today felt right to let it be known.

Lately, I've been reading through the posts on TWLOHA's website. No, I haven't sunk back into that soul-deep battle for light in the midst of my darkness; I just have had a lot of time to think about pain lately.

Mine.

Others.

Reading the words from the people at TWLOHA - people I admire so much for their undying, unending compassion for other people - ones they may never meet...it gives perspective. Hope.

This past fall sucked. Seriously sucked. Watching someone I love slip away into eternity sounds as though it should be beautiful, but it's not. It hurts. He's not here, and my mortal, infinite mind screams that he should be. It's not fair.

Watching his loved ones try to deal with that pain and loss hurts, too. Because I can't fix it. I can't take it away from them. That's really, REALLY hard for a girl who's been nicknamed MacGyver. I can fix a toilet with dental floss, chewing gum, and a paper clip...I should be able to fix this, right? Right?

Wrong.

So, I sit. I hold hands. I cry...sometimes with them. Sometimes alone. I listen. I make junk food and watch movies I would NEVER admit to watching, because it makes them smile - even for a second.

And, I remember what a man posted in a blog post three years ago. His direct quote is, "We give a shit."

Crazily enough, I believe him. Just that much helps.