Sunshine and Storms

Everyone in the family awoke to find a little note from Golda on Monday, along with a little treat.  It was as if the Good Sister Fairy had visited each member of the family.  All the little kids were happy and Scott and I were, too.  How often does a parent get a detailed thank-you note for all the things their kids are grateful for?   Ari told me this morning, "I like to set up my note with the treats every night just like Golda left it, and in the morning, I pretend I just got it, and I read it again."  Thanks for spreading sunshine, Golda.  Your notes brought a lot of smiles.

Speaking of smiles, poor Golda had the orthodontic equivalent of a Medieval torture device installed in her mouth this week.  She has a little key that she has to crank it with each day!  It spans the whole roof of her mouth and makes her sound a little bit like Daffy Duck when she talks.  If she doesn't die of humiliation, she might starve to death.  She can't even swallow her own spit, let alone food.  Last night, we had David's Pizza and orange soda for dinner.  Ironically, while I was feeling like a terrible mother, Araceli was shouting, "Pop!  Orange pop!  And pizza!  This is the best dinner ever!"  I have to admit, it was good.  I looked over at Golda and she was breaking her pizza into tiny pieces and trying to eat them.  Her eyes were all teary, and I knew she was hungry and frustrated and had math homework and church responsibilities and a science test and practicing to do, and that the social scene hadn't been a piece of cake lately, either.

I took Golda a chocolate shake for lunch yesterday and met her in front of the school.  As she tried to get the ice cream past the hardware in her mouth, she asked me if she could go home instead of going to band.  She said pleadingly, "I'm getting an A.  I have 138 per cent in the class."  And I said no.  I should have said yes, I know.  So not only does my beautiful, thoughtful daughter have to deal with braces and tests and homework, she has an unsympathetic mom, too.  As much as I want to be the force that calms the storms, I find that just as often, moms have to be the force that sends their children into the storms, praying that they will weather them, and waiting for them with dry clothes and a warm meal.  Even if it is just pizza.

Golda, you're weathering the storms magnificently.  I'm proud of you.