Boxes

I have not felt up to writing about my kids lately. I am filling my little paper journal with long rambling essays about my dead dog. Her ashes sit in a brown box next to my bedside and I even pick up her box sometimes and carry it around. I always thought pet cemeteries were weird, but I really do need some closure here. It has been icy and snowy and rotten out and I want it to be sunny and green when I take her ashes outside. In the meantime I feel as if I am dragging a little corpse around with me. I am overwhlemed with loss and sadness and embarassment that Maggie's death continues to affect me so much.

So instead of a well rounded essay about my kids which is filled with insight, here is an update.

Frank is now a Bear Cub Scout. He got his Wolf badge last night. His Den also got the Spirit Stick because they were all dressed in their uniforms with badges and neck scarves. They were very excited about getting the Spirit Stick and it over shadowed the Wolf Badge award.

Mary is settling into herself. Her social skills surpass her brother's and sister's social skills combined. Her cooking skills rival mine. Her latest creation is cooked pasta shells filled with Nutella, chopped apples, and marshmallows - something to please everyone. ("It even has fruit in it!" she informed me.)

Anna finished up her speech season and did a very good job with a persuasive speech about Factory Farms ("When you think about where your pork and milk come from do you picture Charlotte's Web? Factory farms: stranger than fiction...").

As always, the kids keep me busy and focused on what is important. I get up, I go through my day and I do stuff like take food to teachers for the parent-teacher conference potluck and volunteer at the school book fair. I am teetering and they right me.