In spite of his skepticism, I’m glad he’s taking it now, instead of putting it off. He’s at the point where (a) he just needs to know where he stands in his knowledge (he can re-take sections if need be – but let’s hope he won’t need to!), and (b) he needs to have a break from dentistry and studying.
At this point, he’ll get a full weekoff before school starts up again on the 2nd.
Another mom, Amy, and her twins, Mia and Nick (also in Dane’s class), went on the adventure as well.
They played barefoot in
Mick studied; I worked on some writing.
The Kids Saw Santa On Saturday
At their turn, the kids gave Santa some gingerbread cookies they'd made. When Dane showed him that his g-bread guy's foot cracked off, Santa said it was okay since he knew how to repair cookies at the North Pole. After all, the reindeer step on and break a lot of Mrs. Clause's cookies.
Her eyes lit up. “He did, Mommy?”
As I nodded my head, Santa asked me, “Do you still have it?”
Trying not to turn into a sappy ball of mush, I said, “Yes, I do…”
Aubrey asked, “You do? Which one is it?”
“Um, the little tiny one, from Mema’s, that we like to dress in its tiny baby clothes…”
She smiled at me with huge, excited eyes; Dane smiled up at Santa.
Dark
It’s 7:15 and pitch black outside. We’ve had a long, busy day and we’re ready for the kids to go to bed.
“Time for bed,” Mick says. “It’s late.”
It’s actually still an hour before their usual bedtime, but the kids can’t tell time yet – at least not on our dining room clock with the Roman numerals, and they don’t think to look at the other clocks – so they don’t catch us in the lie.
In fact, they agree. Dane says, “Yeah, it’s dark – it must be like midnight or something.”
Aubrey says, “Whoa…”
Mick and I slowly nod our heads in unison and within fifteen minutes the kids’ teeth are brushed, their jammies are on, and they’re tucked in their beds.
So, I wonder, how long can we get away with this stuff? Will it come back to haunt us, like bad Karma? Or, are we simply employing the Darwinian tools of parental survival?
What was I told as a child that I later figured out to be bogus? Did my aunt really see Santa flying over my rooftop when she arrived late one Christmas Eve? Didn’t that gorgeous wool coat my mother made for my cousin Karen, the one she needed me to try on for the finishing touches, actually turn out to be my gift? And wouldn’t a childhood habit of drinking coffee surely have stunted my growth? (Okay, the verdict’s still out on that one, but at least my pre-pubescent self was spared the jitters, the teeth stains and the stale breath of a forty-year-old.)
Yes, knowledge is power. And in this case, I’m lucky enough to be the one to possess it. Besides, some day, soon enough, Dane and Aubrey will have it, too.
But for now, it’s 8 o’clock, and through their door I hear even breaths and an occasional snore – sounds that provide me with the smug knowledge that once in a while it’s not so bad that they’re in the dark.
*Aubrey and Dane with Ashton, a friend and Willow Creek fourth grader. 
This has been another edition of NETTY'S BRAG PAGE. (C) 2006
They didn't like what I did last year:
KAREN COMES TO TOWN!
would have none of this! Aubs was a little sicked out too, you may notice in the photo.) The exhibit was commentary on how our senses can conflict: the toilet has never ever been used as a toilet, and is safe as a drinking fountain, but drinking and toilet just don't go together for most of us.
color (not the typed word). Pretty tricky...
attending. I'm sure you can find it on Karen's website: www.karenurlie.com. (Yes, we can give our friend some shameless friend promo here...)
Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker
Luke Skwalker with "Gus Skywalker."
Help me, Obi Wan, you're my only hope.
Loss
I've spent the morning crying for a high school friend. She was a junior when I was a sophomore and we were in a couple clubs together. Really down-to-earth, gorgeous, sweet girl. I haven't seen her since she graduated.
Today on reunion.com I read a message she posted last May about her brother. Her brother was a year ahead of her. He was an adorable jock kind of guy and they were good friends throughout school.
Her post said that her brother had lost a 3-1/2 year battle with brain cancer. He left behind his loving wife of 14 years and their two daughters. And, I noticed in the message, as if it couldn't get any worse, one of his surviving daughters has leukemia.
I wrote my friend an email in remembrance of her brother, sending her and her family my wishes for love and healing.
She wrote back quickly to thank me, and then told me her grief was made even more unbearable this August when her 8-year-old boy drowned on vacation just 4 days after the one-year mark of her brother's death. Her email told me some days she can't even bear to breathe but she's got two other daughters to care for so she just keeps going for them. (I remember Dana saying something similar after Jesse died.) I couldn't stop sobbing.
After my first child was born, I was shocked by the fierceness of my love and my desire to protect him. One day as he slept in my arms, I found myself crying over him, begging God that my son's presence in my life would not be temporary.
Since then, my prayer has broadened to include others closest to me—my husband, my second child—but, always, my desperate plea is the same. And I know that as I sit at the computer crying for my friend, it was her plea too.
