August 31, 2016
The third day of school, I started to relax. A good routine had been established. Abby’s good reports had continued. So, I had my first day of actual writing productivity (2 1/2 hours of excellent progress).
As I was chowing down on leftover jambalaya for lunch, Abby called from the nurse’s office. Stomach ache.
Earlier, at recess, she’d texted me. Just saying hi. She never does that, so I’d assumed she must have been bored. But, at recess? That was a mystery!
Less than an hour later, came the phone call. I raced to school to pick her up. At first glance, I knew she wasn’t sick-sick. Moms know these things. But, I brought her home anyway, anxious to figure out this mystery.
She was fine. Active. Chipper. Normal.
So, what’s really wrong?
I got out of her (after some pretty impressive conversational surgery) that school is fine - good even - except for all the times when its supposed to be the most fun:
What had once been her favorite parts are now the worst because she’s alone. No one sits with her or walks with her or hangs out with her.
No one is mean. They just don’t know her. And with their friends already secured, they have no incentive to reach out. Abby has to take initiative - and that’s hard for an eleven-year-old. Hard for anyone.
How she feels now is how I felt at Open House - alone in a crowd. But, it’s so much worse than that for her.
It's a mystery when and how this'll all work out!
We talked. We baked cookies for Ethan’s first care package (we tried a new recipe - Ranger Cookies). Abby drew a great picture of the Corps’ emblem and wrote him a letter.
My poor kids - both working so hard to find their places - and all I can do to help besides bake cookies is pray my rear end off.
And I am. Praying like crazy.
“Don’t forget to pray. Pray that I’ll know what to say and have the courage to say it at the right time.”
Ephesians 6:19 The Message