It finally happened..

The tooth came out.  My friend, Kellee, said it would probably come out on Monday morning as we were dashing around the house like crazy people without the time to stop and celebrate what just happened.

She was about 5 days off.

I was dropping the boys off today, where I do every day, in our old neighborhood so they can walk to the bus stop with their friend and take the same bus they took last year.  Only, rather than stick around and watch them get on the bus, I have to make a mad dash down to my school, lest I show up too late!  As Youngest was getting out of the car, I could see him fiddling with the tooth with his tongue.  He got this strange expression on his face, bent over (I had a momentary panic thinking he was going to throw up) and out popped the tooth!

Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to stop and celebrate with him.  I squealed my delight as Middle bent down in the grass to retrieve the tooth (successfully) and I hugged my newly toothless-wonder.  Everyone asked if he freaked out, and I think there was a moment of freak-age, but overall he handled it like a champ!

So now, my youngest, my 'baby' is slowly shedding what's left of his babyness.  I didn't get upset when he started Kindergarten, and I didn't get upset with this loss of his first tooth, but the awareness that he is rapidly growing and soon will be joining the world of BIG BOYS is not lost on me.  I would be happy to freeze time and keep him just like this; innocent, wide eyed, and toothless.  Then I realize the pride I feel when I watch my other two accomplish and discover and grow, and I think... it does only get better. 

I want to savor it all, remember it all.  I know my old feeble brain can't hold it all, so I'm thankful for THIS.. who needs a good memory when you blog?  ;)

From the mouths of babes

Chris has a loose tooth.  In fact, it is crazy loose, but it won't come out.  This is the conversation he and I had yesterday morning:

Me: Chris, is that tooth EVER going to come out??
Chris: I'm not ready for it to come out yet, and it is following my orders.

I swear, I cannot make this stuff up! 

Matthew has a new friend...

Click on the photo to open the video

Cutting the nose to spite the face

Like nearly all districts across our state, my district is in dire straights when it comes to the budget.  We already do "more with less" and our class sizes are astronomical.  We've been promised that our district will NOT increase class sizes any further, which means, in theory, that teacher's jobs will not be cut drastically next year.  This leaves the district with the need to cull elsewhere.

The latest lambs that are being led to slaughter are our school nurses. 

Middle and I are going to a town hall meeting tonight to protest this.  I have heard the argument  -  why can't a school secretary put on a band-aid, as if that is the only job of nurses in schools!!

Middle, for one, is chronically ill.  He may not look sick, he may not act sick, but when you think about it, having Diabetes makes him chronically sick.  He needs constant supervision during the day, and during the night, to ensure his sugar levels are OK.  It is a little easier now that he is on the pump, but even so - there are times the nurse needs to use her medical training and knowledge to handle a bolus situation or give an additional injection.  I have no faith that a secretary would take on such a truly life or death responsibility.

Some students in California are being denied their right to a Free and Appropriate Public Education (FAPE) because they are diabetic.  The school districts, in an effort to cut costs, have eliminated nurses on many campuses, or make the campuses "share" nursing services.  Because there is not a nurse on campus in case of emergency, if a parent cannot be at school with the child that day, the child cannot come to school.  How fair is that??  (And yes, the ACLU is all over that!!)

I get it we need to cut costs.  How about we start with our Superintendent's inflated salary??  Leave the nurses alone!

Hope

One of my favorite poems is Emily Dickinson's HOPE IS A THING WITH FEATHERS THAT PERCHES ON THE SOUL.  I love the imagery in it, that hope is this little bird that comes to sit on your shoulder.  You have to be ready for it, quiet and still.  A bird is not going to just fly in for a landing in the midst of chaos.  If you are lucky enough for it to happen, you need to be waiting for it.

I think, too, that having Hope takes courage.  It's risky to keep believing something better will come around.  I mean, what if you're wrong?  Then what?

Eternal doubt keeps us from being quiet and waiting for Hope to show up.  It's hard, this waiting. 

Today was a rallying day, of sorts.  Folks from across the country to are affected by Type 1 Diabetes showed their Hope for a cure by either wearing the word on their clothing, or writing it on their hands.  I know medical science is making great strides, and that things for folks with T1D are much better now than they were then, but having hope for a cure - real, strong hope - takes a lot of effort.  When you are concerned with boluses and blood counts, carbs, making sure your son or daughter is healthy, knowing that at any moment the bottom could drop out and your child could end up another horrifying statistic, the noise of is all is deafening.  It's hard to have HOPE during those time.

So we have to STOP the Chaos for a while.  We have to be active in our fear, take charge of it and put it in its place.  Because Hope is real, and Hope is so tightly tied to Faith that they are nearly synonymous.  And it is so HARD to have faith all the time when things are going south.  You begin to ask those unanswerable questions, the ones that, when heard spoken by someone else, sound self-pitying; the ones that look like "why ME?" 

If we can truly stop the chaos, if we can make the effort to calm down, allow peacefulness to wash over us, then maybe, just maybe, we can being to see Hope again.  And soon, when amazing things are ready to happen, we will be ready to have them land softly on our shoulders.