Spring is definitely upon us. I've watched the little buds on the trees develop and break open in the past week. Little tiny pods that slowly turn into bright green leaves. Within the next week, the whole world outside my window will look totally different. No more grey, just bright green. Funny how much brighter things start to look with just a tiny bit of green in the backdrop.
We have begun our spring break, which I admit was more welcome this year than ever before. Fourth grade is killing me in ways I never dreamed possible. Madalyn's teacher has us sign everything. Study guides, slips that say we've seen the study guide, every graded paper, notes about signing the graded papers, every homework page they do. I should have a stamp made like doctors do so I could just whiz through the signing off all papers. I'm over it. Our society has shifted into this weird idealism that we need to know all things all the time. I dare say you and dad had no clue what my average in any subject was except at progress report and report card times. I can access David's averages and grades on individual assignments and tests from my cell phone at any time of the day. Bizarre. Helpful, but still weird. I'm glad to be able to keep on top of things, but what happened to expecting the students to be on top of their own work? And like Madalyn's teacher... we, as parents, are supposed to supervise homework and then check to make sure all answers are correct and then help them correct any wrong answers. Overkill, I think. I am definitely not a fourth grade teacher by trade or nature, so some afternoons are highly unpleasant around here. I know more about fractions now than I did when I was in fourth grade. And I have to do a lot of Googling. But, by golly, Madalyn and I both can add and subtract mixed numbers. Aren't you impressed?
Poor David has been down in his back. Words I never thought I would say about a 13 year old boy! We went to his pediatrician yesterday, and she feels certain it's a strained muscle or a little tendonitis from golf. So we start physical therapy on Monday. I do hope it helps. He's been a little down about his golf game. Of course, he has a high tolerance for pain (like you and I have always had), and he was just playing through it. It wasn't until this past Wednesday that Scott realized he's compensating his swing because of the pain. Not good for the golf game, let me tell you. So he's annoyed and disappointed and ready to be back to normal. I'm hoping it won't take long.
I got a kick out of something this past week, and you will, too. David and his friend were working on a science project. They had to design a chain reaction of objects, and the end result had to be popping a balloon. So they had devised this scheme, and they needed a needle or something similar to affix to a cup to pop the balloon at the end. I got out your old sewing box, the burnt orange Tupperware one, and gave them two of your old safety pins. You're still weaving yourself into our lives, Mama. I can't even remember if I told David they had belonged to you, and it really doesn't matter. It just made my heart smile to know that a tiny piece of you went to school with David the next day and helped him complete a project. How neat is that?
I haven't had a Cadbury egg this year or even pulled my few little Easter decorations down from the attic. I just don't feel like it this year. I'm not planning a big family get together. It's just too draining, and I don't have the energy for it right now. Almost three years that you've been gone. Just crazy. I guess I expected to feel stronger by now, but it's not the case. I'm okay, but I still feel so raw, so vulnerable. I wonder how long that will last. I just have no idea. I guess I will just keep doing what I do, and hopefully one day I will feel less like an open wound. Maybe, as time goes by, I will begin to heal bit by bit and feel like putting myself out there again. Until then, I'll just keep on being the best wife and mom I can be. That's just all I've got in me.
Missing you more than ever, Mama. Seeing you in every bloom of the trees and flowers.