The Next Larry Flynt?

Since the beginning of time, parents day dream about what their children will do for a living.  Will they be a doctor, police officer, tycoon or even a preacher.  A mother can only hope.  The Babe wanted to see want this whole kindergarten thing was about that brother keeps talking about.  In an effort to placate his curiosity, The Dad took The Babe to lunch with The Kindergartner the other day.  For those that are not privy to the inner workings of the elementary school lunch room these days, it hasn't changed since you were there.  Apparently The Dad was sitting with his boys at a long narrow lunch room table with about 20 other kindergarten aged kids the other day.  On this particular day, the lunch time convo steered toward the topic of movies.  In an attempt to include The Babe in the lunch time banter, a boy asked The Babe what kind of movies he liked to watch.  The Babe, without hesitation, looked at that boy and told him "I like movies that show ladies private parts".

WHAT THE?!

The Dad seems to think The Babe forgot The Dad was present.  As the table was recovering from the response to The Babe's declaration (apparently the group thought this was quite hilarious), The Dad looked at The Babe with surprise (what the...where...who...).  The Babe knew he was busted.  As his eyes welled up with tears he placed his head in his hands.

I got a call from The Dad the night of what I now call the "incident".  Although we were able to laugh about it, and I was able to say "better you than me", I had a number of thoughts swirling in my head:

• This is not one of those funny kid stories I can retell.  Think about it; if I retell this story people will wonder what in the hell I am letting my kids watch on TV.


• Why on earth would he say that?  Has he seen movies like this.  With whom?  Where?


• Well, I guess I know what he will do for a living.  Yay me...lifetime supply of adult entertainment.  As long as he is happy I guess.

 

Everything I need to know, I learned on the first day of Kindergarten

Last week I experienced one of many firsts; the first born started Kindergarten.  As you can imagine, it was a very exciting day for all of us.  The Kindergartner didn't think it was all that big of a deal really.  After all, he had been going to "school" for some time now.  In his mind, it was just a new building and new teacher.  The kid was calm, cool and collected.

The Kindergartner and I entered the cafeteria at the school with The Dad.  We were met by the soon to be step-mom and her daughter that is in fifth grade at the same school.  This was basically command central.  The principal welcomed all the new and returning students and offered some general info.  As The Dad and I walked The Kindergartner to his classroom, The Step Mom and Step Sis walked behind us.  The Dad and I held hands with The Kindergartner, at which time he tried to get The Dad and I to hold hands.  Ugh.  I play it off with desensitizing statements like "gross, your dad has cooties", and "that is The Step Mom's hand to hold, not mine".

We enter the classroom together and begin the transition.  Pictures, hugs, "I'm so proud of you", "have a great day".  The usual.  I asked The Dad if he would like me to take a picture of the three of them together.  He accepts.  He takes one of me and my big kid.  We all say goodbye and go our separate ways.

I had heard stories about moms and dads that get emotional on the first day of school for their first born.  I understand why.  I, however, was not emotional during this transitional moment.  That is, not until I got in the car to go to work.  It wasn't like someone turned on the facet full speed.  It was more like when you turn off the facet but you still have a slow drip.  As I sat in the parking lot of the school, I realized something.  I realized I was doing something right.    The Kindergartner has a lot of people in his life that love him and want what's best for him.  Although it sucks to see him loving on another woman like he does The Step Mom, it illustrates that he knows he can love both of us.  We were all there for him on his big day.  Together. Co-parenting.  I am not sure with whom I was more proud, The Kindergartner or us.

She is more precious than rubies. Nothing you desire compares with her.*

I figured it would be a lot like the last 364 days.  Better yet, I hoped it would be like the last 364 days.  I hoped  3.15 would not impact me any differently than every other day since my mother died.  I couldn’t imagine missing her any more than the day before, or the one before that.  For example, my sister sent me a text the night before 3.15 and asked if I was thinking about mom.  I am still curious what answer she was expecting.  Sis, if you are reading, here is your answer.  What the @#!^& else would I be doing?  I think about her every day for god’s sake!

Everyone handles these situations differently.  I am not the type to get down in the well, or better yet, get a bottle of wine and ball up in the fetal position in a dark corner.  I got up and went to work like I do every day, like I attempted to do 3.15 last year.

I can remember every detail of that day.  I wore a sea foam green mock turtle neck with tan pants.  I can remember thinking, as I walked to the car that morning, I should have worn heels with those pants because they are just long enough to drag the ground a bit with the ballet flats I chose.  However, I was in a hurry to get the boys to their grandma’s and did not have time to change.

They boys go to their grandma’s every Monday.  They play with their cousins and at the end of the day the whole family comes together for a meal.  This has been a tradition for about five years now and even after the divorce I made sure the boys get to maintain this tradition, so they are with their dad on Monday nights.

I took the boys inside, gave hugs and kisses to them and headed back to my car.  One missed call.  From my step-dad.  No message.  It was 7:40 AM CT.  I knew I needed to remember the time.  I called him back knowing exactly what I was going to hear.  After all, we had all been waiting for this day.  Mom had been in so much pain since they found her brain tumor in January that we all prayed she would find peace.  My mom, being the tenacious woman I love, had things to do and say before she was ready to take her eternal sleep though.  On 3.15.10 she had done all she needed to do and said all she needed to say.  After taking her morning meds and talking with my step dad briefly, she closed her eyes for the last time.  My step-dad described to me, the details of the morning.  We cried together for a moment and I got busy.  First I called my sister, then my dad, then a close friend.

I went back inside the home of my former in-laws and before I could get the words out of my mouth, my former mother-in-law spoke for me.  Having lost a parent herself and knowing the situation, she could apparently read my face.  I later learned the boys were a little confused and in the afternoon had to clarify with their grandma that it was in fact their Nana that went to live with Jesus, and not mommy.

I think about my mother every day.  Although I don’t get to see her or speak to her daily like I would prefer, she has eternal life.  She is with me everywhere I go and softly encourages and motivates in all I do.  I can still see her face and hear her voice as if I saw her yesterday.  On 3.15.10, it felt like I had just seen her the day before.  On 3.15.11 it felt like I just got the phone call from my step-dad.

Proverbs 3:15