Sunday, March 20, 2011

Playing With The Hand I'm Dealt

It is Sunday morning.  Finally, my day to sleep in.  Then why am I here typing this at 5 am?

I awoke from a nightmare twenty minutes ago.  I think I was able to awaken myself out of it, if that is at all possible.  Unlike those good dreams where you try to go back to sleep and recapture the moment, this time  I did not wish to know how it ended.

We were moving or remodeling.  I don't know which.  Sean was helping the carpenters outside.  He was washing my brown pseudo suede curtains in the baby pool.

Remember, this is a dream so just go with it....

He gets soaked.

It's before school and I call him in to change because the bus will be here at any moment.  He starts crying and proceeds into full meltdown mode.  A simple request has led to this.  I'm frantic after one look out the curtains reveals that not only has the bus already arrived, Sean is soaked, and, oh yeah, I have two other small children running around the house in need of getting ready for school as well.

I go out to the bus to calmly explain that Sean will need some more time and that I will bring him to school in a bit.

I try calling the school but can't get the doggone number right.  My fingers keep pressing the wrong keys but at the moment I'm not even sure what the correct number is.  My mind is not thinking....  I call Sean's teacher direct.

Should I call him in sick?  Lie?  I can't do that....

No, I'll be honest.  Sean is having a meltdown and I'll bring him to school in a an hour or so.

The teacher, while understanding, replies back, "I'm not sure if that is going to be an excused or unexcused absence."

Unexcused?  I've never had an unexcused absence in my kids' lives!  Not even in my own!  Way back when for Senior Ditch Day my mom actually called me in sick....

Unexcused?  It can't be.  But why am I worrying about such a minor thing?  Maybe I'm looking for some small victory on a day that is looking to be filled with endless battles....

The teacher tells me she'll talk to the office and let me know.

I scurry about the house trying to regain some sense of normalcy.  Sean's meltdown is coming to an end.  The kiddie pool is filled with more bubbles than Ashley's bath.  My girls have yet to make an entrance.

The phone rings.  It's the new secretary from school.

"Dr. Principal says it's OK.  Bring Sean in whenever you can.  And he wants to cancel the meeting for...."

I wake up.  Force myself.  It's 4:40am.

In real life we only have one meeting scheduled.  One.

It's about integrating Sean more into the mainstream junior high.  His behaviour hinges on it.  Going there means everything to Sean.  Therefore, it means everything to me.

Don't cancel.  Don't cancel.  Don't cancel.

In my dream, my nightmare, I don't give him a chance.

But Real Life has yet to show its cards....

As for me... I really need to stop drinking Pepsi after 7pm.  I'd prefer it if my dreams were a little less caffeine crazy.

And I need to calm down and go back to sleep.  It is, after all, Sunday morning and everything will be OK...

Life is going to be what it is going to be.  I can help it along.  I can prod.  I can push,  And I can shove.  Boy, can I shove!  But, in the end, everything - Life - is going to happen exactly as it was meant to be.

And if I think I can change that, then I truly am dreaming....

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