It pours.
Ran kids to school, finished breakfast, ran Daniel to school, ran to meet the new case manager, had a gloriously peaceful half hour before picking up Daniel. Grabbed him and went for groceries - gluten, dairy, soy and peanut free - for Oren to see what's causing him issues.
Get call from vice principle in the middle of the store about Oren's tardies and his failing most of his classes. Let him know nobody has been in contact with me (as instructed per his 504 with the school) and that I'm not happy. He promises that the teachers will be in touch, and if any aren't, to call him Friday.
Get a call right after about William beating up another kid at recess today and wouldn't tell the teachers why. Drop off prescriptions, run pick him up, talk to teacher about what happened. Talked to William - turns out the kid was fighting his friend and he was trying to help. Kudos for being a good friend, not exactly the best way to deal with it.
Go pick up prescriptions, realize that it's nearly 2:00 and Daniel and I haven't eaten, feed us. Run home, Nathan gets home, CBRS worker comes for William, paperwork signing... Leave again, late, to grab fun little guy I'm babysitting this afternoon from school, run to Oren's school - 20 minutes later than usual - to grab Oren, because the worker wouldn't stop gabbing but I can't be late to get the babysitting boy so Oren had to wait.
Finally make it back home to a barrage of calls and emails from Oren's teachers, and a surprise one from Nathan's about his math work. Get everything sorted out with missing assignments while Nathan sands his pinewood derby car since the weigh-in is tomorrow. I didn't cut it this year. We bought pre-cut. And I don't feel the least bit guilty.
There has been chocolate today when I'm supposed to be cutting sugar. And cookies. There may have been cookies. But darn-it-all if I'm just done! I keep telling myself that the Lord knew I could do this. The teachers have been helpful about the missing assignments, one even offered to be at school early tomorrow if Oren could be there and help him get caught up! (Oren's not too happy. I don't care.)
It's just days like today that make even me wonder how I do it. People ask me all the time. And normally I tell them I breathe, or cherish bedtime, or some other nonsense. But some days I don't even know myself. It just happens. I cry a little. Sometimes a lot. I vent a little. And then I pick myself up, sharpen a couple pencils, and start in on playing catch-up with life.
I'll put on my big girl pants, go get "hopefully" good new from William's therapist, try to put together a nutritional Oren-friendly dinner, make sure beds have clean sheets, and rub my children down with lavendar, our new nightly ritual. I'll tuck them into bed with a conversation about their day, a hug and a kiss, and an "I love you!" Which I'll mean to the bottom of my toes. Then I'll curl up on the couch with a book, ignoring the new big laundry pile, because I have to, enjoy the quiet. Then I'll go to bed, so I can wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.
Because when it rains, it pours. And because it's only after the rain that the flowers can truly bloom.
