Uncle Mark - 25 years later

It's been a rough few weeks here at the one beagle house. In fact, we are not a one beagle house this week as we're watching our neighbors' dog. Adding a new dog to the mix is not something I'd normally recommend during a rough week, but I have to say, the kids are in dog heaven. They love having Casey around and eagerly walk her two times a day demanding that Cayla holds Greta and Collin hold Casey. "Mama", Cayla patiently explains to me, "we're TRAINING the dogs". But, I digress.

It's been rough because Flannery has been getting 5 hours of sleep a night working on this stinking food project and Cayla is enduring her worst few weeks of behavior, EVER. I know there are plenty of people who subsist on 5 hours of sleep a night, but Flan is not one of them. She doesn't need to be because she doesn't have a procrastinating/unproductive/inefficient bone in her body. However, I'm now realizing that regular sleep was one thing that separated her from us mortals. . . . . . I'm just saying, honey. And Cayla. Poor Cayla. My joke of homeschooling her when she hits middle school may not be a joke and may apply to the pre-middle school years. There have a been a lot of meetings at school this week and a long talk with her pediatrician, and piles of forms - nothing new, mind you. But, hopefully a plan is in sight. However, my story today involves Collin, and what he was doing during one of these endless meetings.

I Want to be Just Like Uncle Mark

Cayla went home early today and at 3:45, I headed to school to pick up Collin and have a quick chat with Cayla's teacher, Mrs. S.  I told Collin I'd be 15-20 minutes and he went out to play on the playground (with half the school that stays after school to play on the playground).  The 20 minutes stretched into 45, but he was playing right outside Mrs. S's windows, so we were keeping an eye on each other.  I finally emerged around 4:45, but WHERE WAS COLLIN?  I don't thing I've inherited the mom-anxiety-gene, but 20 minutes later with everyone left at the school searching for him and Flan scanning nearby streets in the car the fear was beginning to grip me.  Talk about raw emotion.  First, my heart cracks a bit realizing that Cayla cannot function in a regular classroom and then Collin disappears into thin air.  To make a short story shorter, unlike my brother (who walked home from Damon Hardware . . . ACROSS telegraph . . . when he couldn't find my mom. . . . at 5 years of age), Collin walked the route we always walk to/from school and  found a random adult to help him across Liberty and sit on our front porch with him until Flannery zoomed by in the car and saw him.  Deep breath.

So, we had pancakes and pickles for dinner (a great cure all) and ended the day with a dog walk.  And, the kids were wearing their favorite new shirts (thanks Grandma and Grandpa!).  Go BoBama BoBiden.  My kids had no problem saying Barack Obama, but once Biden's name began appearing on yard signs they lost it. 

Ahhhhhhh . . . . I feel better all ready.  Thanks.