Before I write anything else, I have to tell you that I am utterly overwhelmed by the response to yesterday’s post. Between the blog and Facebook, within twenty-four hours over ninety of you had taken the time to tell me what it meant to you, and for that, I am so grateful.
Many of you asked (and some of you downright insisted) that I post D Day as a follow-up to Welcome to the Club. If you look over there to the right (or down below if you’re reading this on a mobile device) you’ll see that I’ve taken your advice to heart.
It means so much to me that so many of you were able to find something useful in my words. As I sit here and write at 4:30 every morning, I never know which posts will resonate with others and which will land more softly – just for me and my girls. I so often find that the more personal the entry – the more I think I must be the only one – the more likely it is to be met with shouts of “Me too!” And I never cease to be comforted by the knowledge (that somehow feels new each time) that none of us – no matter how isolating this road can feel – truly walks alone.
So thank you. Thank you for walking the road with me and my family. I’m so grateful that you’re here.
But now I think it’s time to lighten things up around here. So how about a story?
Last night, Brooke had a homework sheet to fill out. The sheet consisted of eight mixed-up sentences, each missing a word. The missing words were in a box at the top of the page. Her job was to unscramble the sentences and then match the missing words with their appropriate sentences.
Which was all fine. Challenging, but fine.
Except that one of them was missing.
Do you hear that dramatic music in the background? Think Jaws.
Brooke was frustrated. And teetering dangerously on the edge of a really, really not good place.
I called Luau over. I know I don’t get a lot of sleep, Babe, so can you take a look at this? I’m pretty sure that “The soldier was polishing his ___ doesn’t end with MORE, INTO or SUN.
Luau looked over the sheet and agreed that it was missing a word. Which was delightful. Cause, ya know, homework is already so much fun for my kid, why not throw her a curve ball, right?
I told Brooke that whomever made the homework sheet had made a mistake and that because the right word wasn’t there, she could write in whatever word SHE thought should end the sentence.
I read it aloud one more time, prompting her – The soldier was polishing his ___?
And she took her pen to the paper to finish the sentence. And once she did, I told her it was absolutely perfect.
Cause it was.
See for yourself.
The Soldier was polishing his fingernails.
God I love my kid.