Song of the day: The Family of Man - Three Dog Night

"We're building a home for the family of man" - Three Dog Night

Monday morning, my husband calls me from the road. He is out shopping, and is looking for business casual workclothes. We are trying to repackage ourselves...beginning with him. When he returns, he goes to his closet, pulls out his old briefcase and re-examines it. He models it for me; walking back and forth in front of me across the bedroom, then tells me he believes that it is suitable for his new job. I tactfully tell him that it is not. As I sit cross legged, watching him from our bed, I offer him my bag, while saying to him that it will give him a more youthful appearance... more youthful than carrying his standard briefcase. He paces back and forth across the room, past my silent lips, but under my watchful eye...then agrees. I then dump my stuff out of my bag and relinguish ownership of it to him. I can easily find another bag for myself. This is a psychological investment; a family marketing strategy. In this youth oriented society, while not aiming for status or one-upmanship, we are pointing ourselves in the direction of survival.

We have a meeting with "The Boy's" teacher today at 2:30pm. I have taken on a new brand of calm. My husband looks at me and says that I look 200% better these days...while also telling me that he sees my "star rising". I remind myself that stars do not move. Anything that he sees within me has been there all along. It is just that I am allowing myself to shine. I have, without reservation, given myself permission to shine. This is not showing a lack of humility, but an acknowledgement of the blessings and gifts that I have already been given. I've been "working them" and am receiving increasingly stunning results. As one newly empowered and no longer as easily oppressed or suppressed, I will need to find my balance; lest I become egotistical and arrogant. I am testing "the waters". I am flavoring my "tofu".

"Prayer books and meetings define the plan,
deciding the fate of the family of man"

Today is a half-day of school for "The Boy". And so, he had to go back to school with us for the conference with his teacher and her assistant. I go armed with a few of the unacceptable grades he had been bringing home lately. The conference begins a little later than scheduled. We peek through the window and notice that his teacher is still speaking to another parent. And so we wait. Our turn finally arrives. During the conference, we find that "The Boy" is doing well. However, he still loses focus a lot; as his interim grades show. She said that she had given him a writing assignment and that he looked at it for over two hours. His excuse? He couldn't think. The teacher enthusiastically says that she believes he will become a great writer, and that she will be among one of the first ones to buy his childrens' book when he publishes one. But for now, I say, we will need to be able to meet the educational standards, as dictated by our State. Latitude for creativity must come later. "The Boy" is in the room with us and is spontaneously writing on the whiteboard while keeping "one ear open" for any mention of his name.

The teacher, her assistant, my husband and myself are sitting at a kiddie sized conference table. I am animated, while my husband sits, quietly and unsmiling in the child-sized seat next to me; his knees nearly up to his chest. As she and I chatter away, he is thinking. I know this man well. Soon he begins to speak: He says that he understands the demands associated with teaching a classroom full of students, but that he does not want his child to "fall through the cracks". There were other things said, but in the end, he reasonably asks for things that we can do to help. I agree with him. We call "The Boy" over from his doodling, and together come up with some kind of workable game plan. This will take time. The meeting ends much later than expected. I get home, catch my breath for a few minutes, and then it's out of the door and on the way to work for me. So far, the evening is on track, and goes as planned.

Later on at work, around 10:30 pm or so, we were told that, based on workload, it was going to be a long night. As soon as the official word came down from "on high", I put on my jacket, excused myself for a few moments, then walked out into the brisk Autumn air alone, and into the half-empty parking lot to call my husband. I look down at my cellphone and see the word "roaming" on its display. Great! Just great! This will incur more charges if I make a call while it is in this state. I walk further away from the building; and as the building begins to appear smaller and smaller in the distance; the message disappears. Beneath the light of a parking lot lamppost, I make my call. "Don't wait up for me," I tell him, and then estimate my time of returning home to being around 2:00am. With these words, I hope that I have set his mind free, and that he can go to sleep. He starts his new assignment tomorrow and will need his rest. I go back to work and struggle to remain awake. I wiggle and squirm to maintain alertness until the work is finally completed.

"And it's so hard whatever are we coming to,
Yes it's so hard with so little time,
And so much to do"

It is now 12:45am. True it is late, but I'll take 1:00am over 2:00am any time. As I drive home, I have my radio on. I tell you this: Even if my life depended on it, I couldn't tell you what songs were playing, as I struggled to navigate in the dark; trying to make my way home. I can only tell you that I remember hearing Boz Scaggs singing, but have no recollection of the actual song title. When I get home, I walk in, activate the home alarm system, peel off my jeans, change into a nightshirt, kiss the sleeping boy, kiss my husband, say a few words to him and then tumble into bed...In that order. "The Boy" had a half-day off today and will be with me all day tomorrow. Tomorrow is election day. As I go to bed, my last thought about tomorrow is this: Stuff's about to happen.

"And time running out for the family of man"




Note: Playing around with "STUMBLE" and stumbled my own post in error - sorry. Not sure which posting it "hit"