Duck Duck Goose

One ordinary summer morning, I was driving to Trader Joe's with Benja and Lotta. Benja suddenly had a phone call from his dad, who led with, "Do you want to be a hero today?" To which Benja resonded with an excited "YES" and immediately tried to exit the moving vehicle. (Ladybirding it, as I later called it after the teenager in the movie LadyBird opened the door while riding in a car). He asked if I could take him home. I inquired what was happening. He said there were some ducklings stuck in the storm sewers and his dad was trying to rescue them. I drove back home and as I neared the stop sign near our house, Benja AND Lotta jumped out of the van. Thom had already taken off the grate to the storm sewer and he'd jimmy rigged a net to a long pole to try to reach the ducklings. The mamma duck was on the sidewalk loudly protesting what was happening. Benja immediately jumped INTO the storm drain (which was about as tall as he is) and began looking around. The problem was, each time, we would try to retrieve them, the group would escape and begin walking down one of the pipes. As people would pass, I would explain about the ducklings. Many a car would drive out of its way or slow waay down in order to avoid hitting the mamma duck. When I explained to one of our neighbors, he said, "oh shit", and it was the first time that entire afternoon I felt the cold hand of doom, and thought we might actually NOT be able to reunite those ducklings to their mamma. Two women from an apartment building up the street noticed our shenanigans and from across the street starting yelling that Animal Control had already been out and was unable to rescue the ducklings. These two women reminded me of characters you would see sitting on their front stoop in Queens. They were NEVER not with a cigeratte. When I described them to a friend, she called them, Thelma and Agnes. Which feels accurate. Throughout that afternoon, they kept coming back out and asking for updates. At one point, we were able to get ONE of the ducklings out, and we started to reunite it with its mother. Thelma and Agnes informed us that animal control had said NOT to reunite just one because the mother would abandon the rest of them. We were super excited to get the one out. It felt like a victory. Benja also called one of his best friends to join us in the search, she showed up and she and Benja kept checking out all the storm drains around the block for quacking sounds. At one point, we rescued four ducklings and put them in a cardboard box. I called animal control and a woman showed up. A man rode by on his bike and told us a story of how he'd had a moment by the lake with a gull, where they'd just connected. Then, the gull flew away and was immediately hit by a car. The man was appalled because the car didn't even slow down, even though the bird was obviously injured. As animal control is trying to capture the mother duck to take her to the lake, she gets a call that there is an injured gull. I mean, the man who'd told me the story was still standing there and we couldn't believe it. The Animal Control person was much less impressed than we were about the coincidence. Anyway, she left me an actual animal control net, because there was still ONE duckling missing. We hadn't ever seen the missing duckling in our explore, but Thelma and Agnes had assured us we were missing one. (To which I took as "This is my job now", Benja and his friend saluted me when they saw it.) Anyway, this couple walked by and I once again told the story, this time while holding a REAL animal control net, and they were dismayed that one of the ducklings was still at large. And I tried to convince them to NOT be upset because we had rescued FOUR other ducklings. Yes, they said, but that ONE is still gone...and it reminded me of my family. Becuase our eldest died of a brain tumor. And I can often tell that this impacts how everyone thinks about our family and I understand. But also, we have THREE very much alive children who are thriving. Ultimately, I somehow feel responsible for how much this might impact others. And maybe, just like the one missing baby duckling, I could let others feel whatever they need to feel rather than doing a whole song and dance to convince them otherwise. Anyway, animal Control returned, retrieved their net, and slowly walked the baby ducklings (in a crate chirping away) down the street, as the mother duck followed. That morning we'd woken up regular people but went to bed heroes. You just never know what the day will bring.

I am PERFECT!

During the summer, Zibbi was in the process of toasting up a bagel. She ran off to attend to one of her many other projects. When she returned, it was EXACTLY when the toaster oven was beeping. She immediately exclaimed, "OMG guys, I am PERFECT!!" We of course LOVED this exclamation and used it as often as possible in the ensuing days.

See, Everyone DOES Know Me

A few weeks ago, Lotta and found ourselves in St. Vinny's. I was trying on some sunhats. An adult male saw me and commented enthusiastically, "That hat looks really good on you!" I responded, "Thanks!" and he signaled for a high five. Now, normally, I might hesistate, but this man was not giving me any creepy vibes, so I went ahead and high fived. As he walked away, he procalaimed to his mom, "See mom, everyone DOES know me." To which his mom responded, as if she had said this numerous times, "No, no they don't." This interaction delighted me to no end. First, I could relate to the parent, trying to protect her son's kind heart. Secondly, it felt like an opportunity to pay it forward for all the times someone had been kind and played along with Ellie's shenanigans. I always appreciated the strangers who didn't need to know exactly why, but were willing to play along. Finally, I appreciated how much the son truly believed that everyone knew him. It reminded me of how Ellie treated every stranger as a friend she just hadn't had the pleasure to meet yet. The assumption that everyone IS in fact a friend. What a fantastic world to reside in.

Last Day of Lapham

So today, was the last day I am assisting in a 3K classroom. I'd started the year thinking I would substitute teach, as a way to make a bit of money AND help the school out, which is facing staff shortages. Then the position for afternoon SEA in 3K opened up, and a fellow mom inquired if I might be interested in job sharing. I ADORED the way the 3-year-olds actually WANTED to be beside me, what a contrast to middle school where I was actively ignored. NO one will admit they have parents in middle school. Or wave hello. Sigh. It's just not my vibe. Then, right after spring break, the district sent 4 new students with disabilities over 2 weeks. And all hell broke loose. Toys were thrown. Chairs were thrown. A student in the class that had been making great strides suddenly reverted back to NOT cooperating. I was bit. The supervisor of our program was sent to investigate. She wanted to "set us up for success", which meant to me, that instead of hearing our concerns, they would continue to send us more students, even after we were already drowning. Finally, the student struggling the most went to a different school. Which was also sad, because we had finally gotten to the point where he was making some progress. Anyway, I had already committed to continuing next year. Once I started having doubts it was hard to imagine continuing next year. I subbed in the morning class, where they had a new student who screamed non stop. It was unbearable. And I saw how the other students didn't even hear her screams anymore. They weren't even started when the fire alarm when off. (A very different reaction to the afternoon crowd.) Finally, I decided that I would NOT return. It was such a challenging decision, as there is SO very much I loved about being there. But, it no longer felt safe, or like we were even able to do our jobs in the current climate. Next year, they'd already decided to start with 7 peer mentors, which to me, meant the district was considering sending us 7 students with disabilities. Which MIGHT have been fine if there was any variation in the level of disablitiy, rather than only giving services to the students with the very most need. On the last day, one of the students told me, "This is the last day of schoool, I will never ever see you again." To which I responded that I was also feeling sad that we wouldn't see one another every day anymore. I did suggest that maybe we would see eachother at the library (where I am coordinating some programming). After school, the teachers met at a local bar. I snuck in and sat down at a looong table. And listened to the teachers connect about the students who would go on to Marquette next year, and just feel all the incredible love they give every single day. And THAT is why they put up with so much every single day. Because they somehow find a way to continue to love those children. At a certain point, I started to feel super hungry and tired, and I had the urge to do an Irish Goodbye, sneaking quietly out the door. When I suggested this to a teacher, she said, I got you, and she announced to the the entire table, "Let's clap out Debi!" And as I frantically began snatching up all my items, tehy clapped me out, I turned for one final, hands above the head to recieve the clapping. It was the BEST ending

Memory Sandwiches part 2

Here's an email I sent to the music and art teachers...

I wanted to let you both know that Madeline tried her best to keep my tears to a minimum by playing all the songs for me beforehand.  I kinda shrugged, and thought, "If she wants a mom that doesn't sob at Fine Arts Night, she's gonna have to find a different version than me!"  

As I was sitting enjoying the music, I suddenly just had moments of flipping back through the years.  I thought about Ellie in a choir concert, something, we NEVER ever imagined would happen.  As she turned around for a movement, her pants were down enough to see her coin slot.   Then, I thought of Lotta's classmate, Walter, really hamming it up at Lapham, enjoying entertaining the audience.  I thought of Lotta wearing a fancy dress and red lipstick to a Fine Arts Night.  I thought of Benja waving wildly at me before his Middle School Orchestra concerts (because he knew how I struggled not to think of Ellie and her 5th grade graduation in the same space.  It always seemed such an incredibly brave thing for a middle schooler to do.)   Such a memory sandwich of that space!!  And I was suddenly filled with awe and wonder that in the blink of an eye the kids before us will be graduating from high school, because it seems just a moment since Ellie and Benja and Lotta were performing there.  And I wanted to make sure to soak up as much of that moment, with all those wonderful words and amazing art, to take with me into the future.  I left pondering how it isn't just this ONE night, it's the whole string of them that lives on.  So, while you may be contemplating the things that didn't go as planned (or maybe you are just sighing with relief it is over!!), please know that the families that attended are adding the night to their memory sandwiches.  Thank you for taking the time and energy to accomplish this feat.  

Much love on this tired tired Friday,

Debi

Signs, Signs, Everywhere

Over Memorial Day weekend we visited St. Charles, MO to say goodbye to my in-laws before they move to Virginia.  It was a somewhat sudden trip, as their health began to decline rapidly and Thom's brothers wanted to move them sooner rather than later (we'd thought we had several months, but it turned into several weeks.)  I wasn't looking forward to the trip, as it is the end of the school year and there is already SO very much happening.  So.  Very.  Much.  When we arrived in St. Charles, we decided to venture to the local bookstore we'd visited during out last visit.  We were enjoying browsing, when I looked down and saw there was a book on a display table written by, "Ellie Kennedy" (it was actually Elle Kennedy, but my brain read it as "Ellie").  Then, when I checked out, the receipt was $113 total (1/13 was the day Ellie died).  Finally, as we were swimming, the song, "I Hope You've had the Time of Your Life" that was played at Ellie's 5th Grade Graduation Ceremony came on.  I shared all this with Benja.  I told him, all of this can be explained logically, of course.  The numbers add up to $113, the song is fairly popular.  However, I DO like the explanation that has a little bit of magic mixed in.  

Then, as we were walking down the stairs at the hotel, the sign said, (oh how I regret not taking a photo to get the exact wording), something about needing to go the level "G" in order to get to the "Exit Discharge".  Every single floor had the same sign.  First of all, exit and discharge seem redundant.  Second of all, if you are thinking of putting the word, "Discharge" on a sign, my advice is to rethink your options, as it may not sound the way you think it does.

Finally, as we traveled the LOOONG road home on Monday, exhausted, ready to be home, to basically jump immediately into the week, we stopped at a roadside stop.  Benja and I were reading signs in one of their displays.  The topic was "How to AVOID Road Rage", with 5 easy steps.  We decided they also needed the alternative, "How to Initiate Road Rage" (Unfortunately, again I am regretting my lack of photographic evidence here).  Step 1:  Maintain Eye Contact with the other drivers.  The longer the better! (In response to "avoid eye contact with the other drivers). Step 5:  You can teach other drivers (in response to "You don't have to teach others how to drive).  We thought a white board with notes for improvement might be the most helpful for this particular step.  

Maybe, St. Charles, needs to change their city slogan to, "city of signs".  

There's Always More to Learn

 A few weeks ago, Benja arrived home from school and proclaimed that the school might be calling me about some spontaneous substitute teaching Benja had engaged in at school.  Confused, I requested more information.  Benja informed me that he and some of his classmates had decided that instead of attending the class they were enrolled in, they would attend an art class.  When they arrived, the teacher who just happened to be a substitute, looked Benja up and down (in his business casual) and asked if he was the assistant for the class.  For some reason, Benja immediately responded "Yes."  And proceeded to help out however he could with the class.  When we discussed it later, Thom concluded that Benja is the only senior to skip class to attend ANOTHER class.  His love of learning is so high, he suddenly realized, "WAIT, there are ALL these other classes we COULD be attending..."  By the way, the school NEVER called to alert us to his absence, we figured maybe, they were so desperate for additional help in the class, they decided to NOT turn it down when it happened to appear out of the blue.