I don’t think it’s any secret that we have some difficult children here in this house. Thank goodness Chuck and I are both stubborn and tenacious. Whatever we put our parents through? We’re paying it back. Every day. Multiple times a day. As my children get older I am much less likely to detail their antics in this space…and especially to mention the children connected with those antics by name.
But let me tell you a secret.
We have three particularly difficult children at the moment and when I have just the three of them together I refer to them as The A Team. Why the A Team? Because words have power and A sounds Awesome! A is the first letter of the Alphabet! It’s the first letter of the word Alphabet. And Avacado starts with A (yum)! We all know A’s in school are a good thing.
That and snark is my love language.
Anyway (<— hey, look, another A word!) earlier this week I found myself in an interesting situation. I had to attend a meeting with teachers, school staff, and district officials. With the A Team. Oh yes, my friends, the stars had misaligned themselves in such a way that an important meeting I would normally (and sanely) attend alone now required me to bring the A Team.
The A Team is pretty much the opposite of sit quietly over there while we discuss important topics. I have a bunch of those kids. I used to take pride in my Mad Parenting Skillz over those kids (and rightly so, we worked darn hard on discipline and self-control). The A Team though? Well, we’ve worked darn hard with them too. I daresay, we’ve worked harder with them.
The results have just been…different.
And so this meeting was difficult. One member of the A Team chose to argue loudly (over nothing) with a district official. Another member decided to attempt to log onto a computer in the school library. Another decided that sneaking through the library shelves (like a spy) and giggling loudly was a fabulous way to pass the time.
And me? I wondered how the heck I was ever chosen to attend the meeting…and wondered what the odds were that the ground would open up and swallow me and the A Team into a giant sink hole (hey, it happens).
Unfortunately, there was no sinkhole.
Just another lesson in humility for me.
As if I need more.
I am the woman who has gone swimming in cat pee.
Been accused of playing evil tricks on her innocent children.
Humility? I’ve got that nailed.
I could really use a lesson in having it all together, though.