Wonder-ful

This is Parker's way of encouraging me. Yes that is my head cut and pasted to WonderWoman's body.

He wrote on the side, "You can do anything. Your an amazing mom. Your undistructible."

I'll try to remember that.

Dirty Laundry

I was sitting at the table doing my make up in a tiny handheld mirror (being run out of my own bathroom by my husband's morning "stream and steam" routine), when Parker came through, clad in a towel, and headed for the laundry room. He pawed through the few clean but wrinkled items on top of the dryer, then sighed and headed back to his room empty-handed and underwear-less.

I had a twinge of guilt.

Two minutes pass and Hillary enters. Same routine only with pajama pants in place of the towel. Not sure what she was looking for, but she didn't find it. She left the kitchen and went straight for MY closet. Plan B.

I had a twinge of frustration.

Yep, you guessed it...the parade was not over. My wet-headed husband lumbered past and headed straight for the laundry room.

Now I was just flat-out mad!

What do they think? That our machines are magical? That clean clothes magically appear? Did they not notice that I worked late the day before and didn't even get home til after 5? And then I cooked supper and flew to a ball game. And then helped with homework before collapsing into bed. When did they assume I had done laundry? Maybe I get up in the middle of the night, so excited to wash their dirty drawers that I just can't sleep. Isn't it logical that if they haven't put the laundry INTO the machine...and I haven't been home in 24 hours...that there will be no clean laundry coming OUT of the machine?

But it's my own fault, of course. I've been a bad mother. Failed to bark orders and assign assignments...delegating missions to the troops in order to conquer family life disorder. Whatever will they do when I am gone and they are responsible for their own laundry-seeking offspring? Perhaps they will just teach them the valuable life lessons learned from their mother.

Lesson 1. It's always worth checking. More often than not clean laundry DOES magically appear. Along with food in the fridge and gas in the car.

Lesson 2. Use your creative thinking skills to problem-solve. Underwear has two sides. Every family member has some, so it's not unheard of to borrow in an emergency. And when all else fails, no one will ever know if you are going commando unless you tell them...or have PE that day.

Lesson 3. Laundry is not Love. Being loved is more than being provided for. It's comfort when you're upset, laughter when you're sad, and help when you're overwhelmed. Those things never run out.

Lesson 4. Over a lifetime...it all comes out in the wash.

A Joyful Note

I smiled as I sat in the dark auditorium and watched high school students from all over our region file in, clad in choir attire. It was the District Concert Choir performance. Hillary had practiced for weeks. Her effort was rewarded when she was chosen for Honor Choir, which is the higher of the two groups. And now, they stood straight and smiling, music in hand, beaming with anticipation. They sang an upbeat "Jubilant Song", impressed us with various vocalizations and harmonies in "Alleluia from Songs of Faith", made us wistful with "Set Me As a Seal Upon Your Heart", and rocked our souls with their rendition of "Daniel in the Lion Den." The crowd responded with a standing ovation. Then it was over and we all gathered around our choir directors to find out which students had been chosen to participate in All State Choir. Our choir director spoke softly and I couldn't hear what was being said... then whoops and hugs...and one of our girls had been chosen! Hillary leaped to hug her friend, her own face flushed with excitement and happiness that someone from her school had been chosen. But the director had more to say. Hillary had been chosen as the alternate alto! And Hillary whooped again and smiled all over herself. Even though it means she will have to attend every practice...learn every word...with no promise of being in the actual performance, she was so happy just to have been considered. I was happy too. And proud.

We followed the director to a back room where all the parents were given the specifics of official paperwork. Right beside me, a girl from another school was changing angrily from her singing clothes into her jeans. "I'm second!" she hissed at her mother. "Alternate means second! That's all. Who wants to be second best?" Her mother seemed angry and embarrassed. As she should be. What a contrast to Hillary's reaction. My heart swelled with pride in who my daughter was. I am thankful for her pure heart. Her maturity. Her positive personality.

In the song that is my life, she is a joyful note.