I'm Not Normal

But neither is my mom or my sisters so I guess it's my birthright.

This morning I took Emma to the First Presbyterian Church of Everett for the 4th grade WASL test. Braeden will join her tomorrow and Wednesday. As we drove out of our neighborhood, the sidewalks were teeming with moms who'd just walked their kids to the bus stop.

They're normal, by anyone's standards.

I left my heart in the First Presbyterian Church of Everett with my daughter. It hurt. A heart is kind of important like that.

I called Adam because he gets me and loves me despite my lack of normal. He told me it would be OK.

Then I called my sisters (because my mom's at work) and my sisters not only get me but they Understand. We were raised by a mother who cried the first day of school when she sent her daughters off to school. We were raised by a mother who realized she could home school and then did home school her sons. We three home school like our mother before us.

We're not all that normal.

But we love these kids of ours (who probably don't have much of a chance of being normal either I'm guessing).

Since I have the charming personality traits of overreacting and stressing about things far in advance, I've been fretting about sending my children to college. I'm not ready to be done with this part of my life (which is good because Mark's 6 (!) I remind my overreacting self). My friend who has teenagers told me yesterday that it isn't as hard as it might seem because teenagers are so irritating you want to let them go.

I understand irritating children, I've got three of them. They had better get a whole lot more irritating though. Because when I eventually send them to school, it just might kill me. Dead.