Tonight, my kids school had a dance. Now, they are 5 and 8 years old...so it wasn't the prom, but it might as well have been. Fifi's room looks like Filene's Basement exploded. She wore light pink eye shadow and a touch of lip gloss. After 2 hours of drama, Fifi was ready for the dance.
Buddy, on the other hand, donned his new shirt with a frog on it that said "Prince Charming" with absolutely no drama and was ready to go in about 2 seconds.
The elementary school is only a couple of blocks from our house, ensconced in our safe little subdivison. The kids streaming in the doors to the school were diverse, but all priveldged to be children whose parent's idea of a Friday night on the town was accompaning their kids to a school function.
It wasn't so long ago I told my friends if I ever moved to the suburbs and bought a mini-van to shoot me. Put me out of my misery because if that ever happened, I'd be so far gone, I wouldn't notice anyway.
But then two little completely facinating, completely vulnerable miracles became mine. In a heartbeat what I thought wanted went by the wayside and I realized I'd do anything to protect them, nurture them and give them every oportunity to thrive and be happy.
So I took a deep breath, risked death and moved to the 'burbs. Buddy and Fifi have both played soccer and I am their mom...so you know what that makes me.
And tonight when the neighbors and our family smooshed into my Honda I wished it were a Minivan.
Really.
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