I was a chaperone for Mary’s class trip to the pumpkin patch this year. It was my first time chaperoning an elementary school field trip — in my kids’ school you have to express interest in chaperoning, and the teacher picks volunteers out of a hat. I was not selected to go to the zoo,
Mary is, by far, my busiest child. She is always buzzing about preparing, arranging, collecting, and always, always talking. I cannot keep up. I try, but I have to be honest with myself about my physical limitations. I cannot breathe underwater, I cannot see into the future, I cannot wear my pre-pregnancy jeans. I cannot
Mary started preparing for her birthday weeks in advance. She decorated our house with little scraps of paper stuck in cabinet doors and along our shelves. She accessorized her stuffed animals with special clips and jewelry, and she did what Mary does best: she verbally processed. She talked about who to invite, what she would
Mary Virginia doesn’t approve of my day-to-day look. T-shirt, ponytail, no makeup, usually un-showered. She’s kind about it, but she wouldn’t mind seeing me put a little more effort in my appearance. Maybe a clean shirt from time to time, a swipe of lip gloss wouldn’t kill me. It’s fine, I don’t pick anything that