Sign of myself

This has been a jam-packed week for me.  I was at the theater until 9:00 every night this week and am SO exhausted.

On Wednesday I came home and just crashed into bed next to Hubby and snuggled into his nook, you know, that spot on your man where you head just fits and once you find it, you feel that sense of comfort that only he can give you?

Well, I had almost fallen asleep when I realized I hadn't brushed my teeth.  I really didn't want to move but as I started to adjust to get out of bed, Hubby asked me where I was going.

"I still have to brush my teeth."

He looked at me with that look that says my label has fallen off and he doesn't know how to define me.  "Do you know in all the years we have been together, you have never once gone to bed without brushing your teeth?"

I had to think about that, because of course, I was so brain-dead tired that it seemed to be the world's most pressing issue at the time.  But it is true.  I have never, NOT ONCE, gone to sleep without brushing my teeth.  Not on "drunken stupor nights", not on "long nights of traveling" nights, not on "just had great sex and can't move" nights.  I always brush my teeth.

To which Hubby then started wondering what would happen if I didn't brush my teeth one night.  "That's probably the lynch pin that holds you all together, isn't it?  You would miss that one moment of tooth brushing and all the balls you have been throwing in the air all this time would come crashing down, wouldn't they?  It's the secret of your sanity."

Of course, all this time I am thinking I should show him and just not brush my teeth for once.  But the more I thought about it, the more nervous I became.  If I didn't brush my teeth I wouldn't fall asleep nice and minty.  If I didn't brush my teeth, I would wake up with crusty crud all over them and REALLY have bad breath.  If I didn't brush my teeth that cavity that has been lurking just waiting for me to slack off would strike and I would be doomed to the dentist chair.  Maybe tooth brushing really is my lynch pin of sanity.

God help us if there is ever a shortage of toothpaste.  I'll be like the Y2Kers hoarding Crest and Colgate with a machete and assault rifle in each hand.  BACK OFF MY CAVITY CONTROL PEOPLE!

Tear Soup

Today I realized the power of the internet. 

I have been taking a lot of heat lately for moving.  Everyone seems to think the theater will crumble, or their kids noses won't get wiped, or no one will sing that song the way they like it when I am gone.

Of course, the theater will go on, the noses will get wiped, and actually, we have a new woman coming to church who has a very similar voice to mine, so I have replaced myself already in the church band.  My leaving will be a mere blip in the timeline a few months from now.

BUT...just when I have felt like the caring, compassionate side of me meant nothing here, something happened.  A while back I told you how I had a student who lost her father to cancer.  I asked for book recommendations.  Because a reader named Alissa took 2 minutes out of her day to recommend Tear Soup to me, I had a moment that nearly brought me to my knees.

The widow has been struggling to help her 7 year old son. She has had him seeing a psychologist since her husband was diagnosed but it hasn't been easy.  I bought the book for her and slipped it into her daughter's backpack, telling her to read it with her son if she wanted to, but my feelings would not be hurt if she just couldn't.

She read the book with him last night and said it was like a dam bursting open.  The book gave him words to say and let him know it was okay to be angry and confused and to forget his dad's face (which has been really bothering him) and she said that they cried hard together but she was so grateful to have that time with him.  Then she opened up to me...to me...because everyone else has been patting her shoulder and hugging her neck and not really helping her move forward or talking to her in terms that she could relate to right now.  But I talked to her in black and white terms and she felt comforted by that.

I walked away from our conversation and just felt so thankful.  I know that what I do here makes a difference, but I get beaten up so much that I often can't see it.  But today I could.  For ten minutes I gave a woman comfort and strength....and for the first time in a while....I had it to give.

So thank you Alissa, for giving me that gift of taking that time to recommend that book.  You made a huge difference in a grieving family's life and gave me a bit of my soul back!

I really did it this time...

I was the sole song leader today in church.  The few other people who usually sing with me all had family emergencies.   Normally this isn't a big deal as I actually prefer singing alone, but today I was struggling with some tongue tied-ness and could have used another voice to cover my mistakes.

One of the songs had some very difficult words and the timing changed for every verse.  When I got to a line that said, "Blood-bought throngs"  my voice sang out (very loudly via the mic) "blood bought THONGS!!!!" 

Oh Lord, talk about embarassed!

Done

It is done. 

We have made the announcement to CountryTime that we are leaving.  I want to feel sadness or grief or something, but I am just so relieved to know that from this point on, there is no turning back.  I feel bad that my students are going to miss me for a time, but I have learned over the years that teachers are very replaceable in a child's life.

I just keep thinking that I actually had to make myself call DSS when my student's arm had been dislocated.  I almost didn't because of what I have become here.  I don't want to become that person.  I hope that moving will let me find the person again who is not afraid to stand up for children, who is not a second class citizen and who does not get attacked by parents simply for speaking the truth.

Maybe the chest pain will go away now.

My Own Worst Enemy

 I have nothing to say again.  That's why I haven't been writing.  Several weeks ago I developed a chest cold and started having my wonderful chest pain again.  I was just getting better when Hubby had surgery and while I was in the hospital waiting room I developed painfully itchy welts.  I thought they were just anxiety driven and ignored them for three days until my tongue started swelling up and I developed blisters on my tongue and throat and my eye started swelling shut.

I went to the doctor and she told me I had developed a sudden allergy to my blood pressure medicine and changed it.  I tried to tell her that Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease was going around my classroom, but she insisted that HFMD did not have an itchy rash and rarely affected adults.  Two days later I felt like I was having a heart attack and couldn't breathe.  I am still suffering from chest pain and a massive headache.  I have a follow up appointment Monday and know she is going to tell me this is all anxiety driven like the last time, but I can't help thinking this is much worse.  I think it is myocarditis and I am scared.  I am scared to go through all the testing again but scared not to.  I hate Google and I hate anxiety and I need for my life to stop piling shit on me.

Things have been tense between Hubby being sick and the news or our move being announced tomorrow, so it might very well be anxiety, but then again, horrible things keep happening here and in my mind I know that I have heart damage now.  Ativan does nothing to help the pain.

How does one stop obsessive thoughts without anti-depressants and when all those bad things that cause obsessive thoughts REALLY DO KEEP HAPPENING? 

I just want to go home.

HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our regional Poobah and/or some of the Inner Sanctum committee did exactly what I thought and failed to keep our request for a move confidential like they were supposed to do.  Let me tell you what a mess we are in now.   Gossip travels fast in a small town.

BUT....and this is a big-bohonkus-wonderful BUT!!!!  There is a very high likelihood that we are being moved HOME!!!!  Home to the island where we spent out first few years of marriage.  Home to the place from whence we just moved from a few short years ago.  HOME to the beach and the parks and the Wild Women and the Partners of Wild Women (Hubby's friends).  HOME HOME HOME HOME!!!!

Home to the place where I can get ONE job.  Home to where E has friends.  Home to the world's most amazing burrito barn.  Home to....well...just HOME!!!

When Hubby told me it was a possibility I actually started crying.  Obviously I have broken the rules and gotten my hopes up, but Lord, I want to go home!

Oh please Universe, PUH-LEASE, please let this happen and send me home.  I'll be good and I'll be nice.  I promise!

It's not a gift....

This time last year I thought I overheard a conversation about the father of one of my students.  I swore I heard one of the lead teachers talking about his diagnosis of cancer.  Not just any cancer, but a deadly rare cancer in a very specific part of his body.  I was stunned and horrified because his older son had been one of my students and his youngest daughter would be entering my classroom in the fall.  All summer long when I would run into the family, I would look at him and wonder how he was doing, whether he was receiving treatment, if it was operable.  I never asked, though, because as a teacher I stand in a weird position.  I love the children and spend lots of time with them, but I am just the help to the adults, the person who they see at drop-off and pick-up.  If I asked how he was doing, it would have been very awkward for him.

This school year started and I was walking through the hall when the same lead teacher stopped me.  She asked me if I had heard about the sad news about this dad.  I said "Yes, I heard you telling someone last year."  Her eyes got wide and she took a step back.  She started stuttering and spluttering as she does and insisted she had said no such thing, that she had only just found out today.

I was in shock and had no idea what to do.  Here I was knowing that this man was going to die for over 4 months and it was something I had heard from her, but she was just learning about it today? I still don't know what transpired.  It wasn't a dream, it wasn't a vision.  It was just like any other moment of my day at the preschool.  But I HAD heard her and Hubby can verify that for me because I had gone home that same day last year and told him about the dad.  It wasn't just something I imagined.

Sadly the dad died several days ago.  The 7 year old son is devastated and extremely angry.  I want to get him something without trying to force my way into the family grief.  Does anyone have any good suggestions of books or movies that might help him deal with his grief?

Is there anyone out there with my seemingly unique set of skills who can explain to me what happened, because things like this?  Well, they make me worry about my sanity.  I truly hope this was a one time event.