The day before had been the climax of an increasingly difficult struggle with Oakley and school. It's hard sometimes to know how detailed to be on this little blog. I guess what can be said is that it sucks. It can also be said that I find myself at increasing odds with the problems at hand and my current skill set. My toolbox is empty, friends.
The best way to deal with this, naturally, is to cry myself to sleep followed by an ugly wake-up cry the next morning. Since Kenneth was out of town this week that was pretty easy to accomplish.
So, when the school called at 7:02 am with a recorded message that it had been cancelled I assumed it would be a horrible day of fighting kids and messy rooms. After I hung up the phone, I made sure to cry a little bit more just for good measure.
One thing led to another, though, and we found ourselves exploring with friends who showed us a brand new trail right in our own back yard.
It was just what we needed.
My running partner (who doubles as my guardian angel) sent me Psalm 121 that same morning.
" I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh mine help.
My help cometh from The Lord, which made heaven and earth.
He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; He that keepeth thee will not slumber nor sleep."
So this is what I do. I lift up my eyes toward the hills to the God who knew my children first, the God who loves them, the God who entrusted them to me. I plead for a path. I learn of new tools and different ideas. I talk to people who have been here before and take copious notes.
And in the mean time, we hike along paths together, allowing the magesty of our Palouse to calm the storms and bring out the best in us.
(....and they played and played and played)
(There is a lot to talk about when you are in the first grade. If you are Ivy. If you are Walter three is a lot to listen to.).
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