It was embarrassing to put my name on the board, so it didn't happen too often, but by the 3rd or 4th time I had gotten used to it and I decided it wasn't as bad as I had made it out to be, and eventually my name got written bigger and neater with that white chalk. Then eventually, I would sit there with my head down on my desk and not mind it, as much. I mean everyone did get to see my name up there.
I know, completely vain. That is all I knew in a way. I was the first born of three. The only girl; spoiled in my own right, feeling pretty cool in my over-sized sweatshirts with ribbons sewed on them, bright leggings, matching socks, with pointy black boots and my permed-side ponytail with a bright, huge bow. I loved it. And I loved school, and liked having lots of friends, it was fun and free.
Eventually all that went to my head and followed me to middle school where I still thought I was cool, but for wearing matching Umbro soccer outfits with indoor soccer shoes, and even all the way to what I referred to as unfortunately, "My Britney Spears Look," which was a pleated skirt, buttoned-up white collared shirt, and knee highs (which I snuck in my book bag, and changed into in the school bathroom because Momma would not have it). Of course, I understand why now, because it was absolutely ridiculous to dress like that as a little girl or a big girl for that matter! But I did. And now you know.
Grown up now (to some degree), with a baby girl and 5 -year-old boy I now know that I need to get Matt to install mini cameras in their book bags. No, seriously.
I wish Simms' was already installed because of what happened yesterday, but it wasn't, and we had to take the word of our 5-year-old and a pink slip that was sent home. For those of you that don't know what a pink slip is; it's not pretty, though I like the color pink (especially with a little girl now) I assure you this pink is pale and sickly, and that's how I felt when I saw it.
He said very nonchalantly, "I was standing in line and Tiziano wasn't moving so I went around him....then he punched me in the back like this!" he punched himself in his lower back, "then I turned around and pushed him," he pushed the air with both of his hands, "and then I did this," he then made a claw with one of his left pointer finger and scratched the air, "right on his nose."
He was pretty matter-of-fact about the entire 5 second ordeal. So I signed the slip and then emailed the teacher. Kind of horrifying in a weird way..... It made me feel really like an adult, a scared adult who still had to call her Momma (she teaches so that helped) for advice.
We don't want to be "those" parents, but maybe we are. And I guess if "those" parents are concerned, worried, scared, and head-over-heels for their kid than I am pretty ok with that.
The Lord is really the One who helps with all of this and that (as well as running a couple of miles on the treadmill at our local YMCA). He helps with ALL of it. Life. It doesn't mean it's easier; in some ways it's harder. But He is good.
The Lord, through the sacrifice of Christ and by the Holy Spirit (yea I will never completely understand all that till I see Him face to face), who is more than I could or ever be for Simms, who says to me by His word in Proverbs 3:7-8 , "Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones."
Letting Him truly refresh me; allowing me to turn my eyes away from evil, and trying to listen to His wisdom and nobody else is my only hope, is Matt's only hope, is Simms' only hope and Evie's. I pray our kids eyes are truly opened to that one day as He graciously opened my eyes that night at summer camp; open to His great, miraculous love, which I am still in awe of to this day.
That's when I will be reminded once again that His power is made perfect in my weakness. Just like He says and says and says again to me.
Oh yea, and what Simms said to me helped me to understand a little better about the whole ordeal leading up to the Principal's Office, "Ummmm, Mommy, the best part of my day was when I got to sit in the office and look at all the trophies."
I guess in a way I am a lot like him..... when I have a crappy day and get sent to the "Principal's Office", wherever that may be or feel like at the time, when I am there I am drawn and convicted and get to look at and enjoy the Trophy..... Christ and He really gets me and takes me as I am..... a sinner, a mess-up redeemed and made right and beautiful by Him; His Son, His Sacrifice and there, right there is a bright light shining on Him, the Champion, that I just can't take my eyes off.
And that's always the best part of my day too.