Well, it's definitely a problem and it's starting to bother the rest of the family too. I yelled at Meg this morning for putting on the same sweater she wore yesterday. Then we had a heated discussion about how looking like a hobo reflects poorly on me, not her. Her explanation of "it's not a shirt, it's a sweater, I can wear it again today" wasn't sitting well with me and I snapped. I will feel guilty and miserable all day because I probably ruined her day. Ethan was supposed to write a letter to Santa last night to be published in the paper next week. It had to be done last night. He didn't want to. He whined and complained and had a mini-meltdown. Then I had a mini-meltdown and told him that I didn't want to be the only 1st grade parent whose kid refused to cooperate. Ugh, I'm going to have to give back my "mother of the year" tiara.
It has been an emotional week to say the least. Meg performed in her 1st community play this weekend, 4 times. She won a role in "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" about 6 weeks ago and we have been shuttling her to rehearsals ever since. Did I mention practice was an hour away? We debated on even letting her tryout for it because of the distance but I really wanted her to have the experience and to channel her natural drama into something productive. Rehearsals were for 5 weeks so I decided that we could do anything for 5 weeks. Most of the time it wasn't bad. Last week she rehearsed 4 nights and then had 4 performances over the weekend. Thankfully, we never felt burdened by it (at least I didn't). The show was great. I even helped backstage once and found it to be very rewarding and fun. Groups of kids never fail to amuse me. On Saturday, as I was getting ready to head to the play, our dear landlady wanted to move some of her stuff (she had some things left in the house when we moved in and we have been living around them). My husband was expecting to help her most of the day but we didn't expect her to bring additional help, in the form of several people from church, who paraded through the house most of the day. My house that wasn't very presentable. I felt like I was being judged because it was painfully obvious that I am not a very good juggler. Really, I should just let it go. I'm working on that.
Over the weekend, I learned that a lifelong friend had died under suspicious circumstances. There were many questions on top of the grief. We have some answers now and it is a very sad story (that's not mine to tell) and it has really weighed heavily on my heart. As adults, we haven't been close but our families have been friends forever. It is different dealing with the death of someone who really hasn't been in my life for a while but had been such a big part of it before. I know there isn't a *wrong* way to deal with someone's death but I feel like I'm not doing it right. And I know that makes absolutely no sense to anyone else. It doesn't really make sense to me either, it's just a strange emotion.
On a completely different and much more cheerful note, it has actually snowed here already. In case you're not from the South, December hardly ever means snow. Usually it's more like February before we see any, if at all. And loosely quoting my oh so lovely friend, I'm living in another dimension. Strangeness...
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