The Brutally Honest Kindergarten Form

I have a real problem on my hands. My daughter Mini just started Kindergarten and I have a ton of paperwork to fill out for the school. One of the things I need to do is fill out a form for her new teacher (who I hear is fabulous). The form has a couple of basic questions (child's name, date of birth, siblings, etc). Then there's the hard part. I'm supposed to answer the following question: "What can you tell us about your child?"

WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY??

Rare Bird by Anna Whiston-Donaldson

Three years ago today, a 12 year old boy was killed in a freak flood one town over from mine. I didn't know the family, but had several friends who did. His mom, Anna, was a blogger and when I heard the news I clicked over to her blog. I saw her beautiful kids smiling at me in back to school pictures. It seemed impossible that this beautiful boy was gone.

I kind of lost of my shit. It was too sad and too real and far too close to home. I've written about how much Jack's death affected me since it happened. It's not just me - friends, family and strangers from across the country have been moved by the loss of this special boy.

Horrifying Conversations with Mini: Not ANYTHING

I was taking a late summer swim with Mini recently, when she said something horrifying. I was trying to encourage her to work on her backstroke and I was telling her all the fun things you could do while floating on your back and kicking your legs. 

But she was having none of it. She kept telling me that when you race backstroke at a swim meet, you could hit your head on the wall (which is of course very true). So she was never going to do that.

A Prayer for the First Day of School

Dear God,

I have three kids and today they all went to school, the smallest one for the very first time. You already know that, though, because you're omniscient. Now that the big yellow bus has consumed my children, I'm sitting here alone in a  quiet house, trying to distract myself with work and Facebook. It's sort of working, except for the fact that my stupid eyes keep leaking.

God, I really wish I was one of the moms skipping back from the bus stop humming "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year." I thought when this time finally came, I would be. But I don't feel like celebrating. There was no skipping home. I spent the whole time trying not to ugly cry in front of my neighbors, so I just kept making a weird face and sniffling.