The night ended too quickly; heat permeated the room in this – the inaugural “autumn.” Giggle…right? Not in Central-Northern California. It was in the upper nineties this weekend, which, I’m praying, is the last heatwave we’ll have this year. Truth didn’t hit me until yesterday in the garage, as I cleaned out a bin of my clothing: 2 coats, a wool cape (really), 2 thick sweatshirts and ice skates. That’s not even counting the coats and jackets I have inside. It became clear to me that I have lived in the wrong place my entire life – I need cold. Interestingly enough, I recently read an anthropological article on the significance of my ancestors – pale-skinned/blue-eyed migrants – wandering north from Africa all those millennia ago –it was too hot. No shit, Sherlock.
I lost a lot of pounds this morning and it was extremely freeing. After dropping off the kids at school, I headed to a Montessori preschool and donated all my bins. I am hoping these are items she can use – we used similar things when I interned in a pre-school so long ago. Seeing those adorable little faces helped shift my day from the quick tears that had once again erupted from my eyes when I passed by the sign the kids had hung on the fence at school after dropping Mags off. Twenty years old. How did that happen?!!
I headed to work where a lot of prep awaited me – today was my first group facilitation. Big fancy word, that: “facilitation” It might lead people to assume I know what the hell I’m doing, which I kinda do…some days…a little…not really. It’s funny because as I sit here next to my son, helping guide him in literature, I told him he does know what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t feel like it – and I gave myself as an example. I absolutely love that this kid – this 14 year old who has experienced 30 less trips-around-the-sun than I is in exactly the same position as me AND HE ISN’T EVEN ADULTING THE WAY I AM!! This is a tremendously important point to me – that yes, kids may not be as experienced as most grown-ups, but we are all pretty much in the same place…just trying to get through our day with a little more success than yesterday.
There were a lot of people at the CMP football game. My former boss at the high school was there to assist Sabrina’s husband in coaching. I had collected some resources for the family and gave them to her mom, but in all honesty, it might be too early for that kind of stuff, though I had told Des I would bring the support group info. They are still in the hurricane – the eye of the storm hasn’t reached them yet as they are still in shock of losing Sabrina. Jackie saw me and waved me over to where she was seated – she had helped me find the Preszler’s ICU room at the hospital. There were so ma
ny old faces present – parents and students I hadn’t seen in years, the faces I had forgotten about yet were such an every-day part of life not so long ago, but in a whole different lifetime.– yet what a horrific reason for a reunion.
Home, where I obediently cooked my healthy dinner. Day two. Why am I so fucking obsessed with my weight? I mean, I think I look pretty ok, but I hurt – and I’m not even talking about back pain. My “chunk” (this is what the kids and I named it years ago) hurts – like my body has too much weight and is stretched too far. So I limit my eating for a minute, then go on a nacho run or a burrito binge. Motherfucker, I have got to watch myself. I am thinking it would be wise to join In-shape with the kids, so we could all go together (Ethan has been wanting to workout). That way I could swim, and one of the officers in juvenile hall sad they have a terrific all-body circuit that you finish in 30 minutes. Then I could be a badass and fit into my clothes again. Oh…wait a minute. I may have a nudity excuse here….
Pictures: Coach Sabrina surrounded by hearts; Hearts surrounding Coach Tindall
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