Tag Archive | parenting

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Mother Scorned

Mom-fury is real, guys. I’ve been a mom for almost 18 years now, and I’ve been mad on my kids’ behalf before, but yesterday was the first time I felt pure white-hot blinding fury. I have calmed down some, but the anger is still there.

Someone treated one of my kids badly. Someone in a position of power decided to lash out at my child in front of their peers and at least one teacher. Someone let their emotions take over, and let them spill out in an unreasonable, unprofessional diatribe that devolved into criticism unrelated to the trigger. This person saw that my child was upset, that my child was *crying*, and kept going. Not only kept going, but told two other adults there, “Oh, I made your kid cry” like it was something to be proud of. This person texted me later, “I am so sorry I upset them” but didn’t have the decency to apologize directly to my child, either by text or in person.

Just writing this is bringing the fury back. I have no idea what possesses someone to treat another person, a STUDENT, that way. I have no idea why the other adults present didn’t do anything, didn’t ask her to stop, didn’t intervene to mediate, didn’t at least suggest they go somewhere private.

Let me stop here for a caveat. This is important: this is not a teacher at the school. I don’t believe this person is officially employed by the school. This is a person who is only there very part-time, working with a very small group of students.

Now comes the hard part: how do I respond? I didn’t do anything yesterday; I knew that was a bad idea. My gut tells me to email this person and let her know how angry I am, and that her behavior was appalling and unacceptable. My gut tells me that I need to write a complaint to at least one authority figure, because it’s not right that this person is allowed to interact with students and treat them like this without being held accountable. My gut tells me this is bigger than my child, that I have a responsibility to speak up when something bad happens.

BUT. Doing all of that could create problems for my child. Working with all of these people is unavoidable, and it could make relationships with them awkward, and have repercussions for my child’s success both in and out of school. Speaking up very likely would result in no changes, because this person is respected for their experience and knowledge, and no one wants to rock that boat.

And that alone infuriates me too. Why should this person not be held accountable? Why should this person get away with this behavior? No, my child was not physically harmed. But in my mind, it was bullying. The action that prompted the tantrum in no way warranted a full emotional meltdown in front of other people. It was a minor disagreement that should have been handled privately. Thankfully my child is strong, and has a wonderful support system, and they will be all right. But will the next one? That is one reason silence feels wrong. This is about more than my child. This is also about the next child on the receiving end of a humiliating tirade. If we never speak up because we think nothing will change…well, we’re right. Nothing will ever change. And I’m not sure that’s the world I want to live in.

To be clear, we WILL address the situation with this person. We are just trying to figure out the best way to do it. I want to address it immediately and directly and make it clear exactly how wrong the behavior was; my husband wants to be more strategic and try to guide the relationship to a better place. He wants to address it without pissing off this person, because that likely will not help matters. I can see the benefit of his strategy. But it doesn’t satisfy my mom-fury. I still want to take it further.

So, I don’t know. It’s a really complicated situation, and I can’t tell if I’m blowing it out of proportion because of my mom-fury. I am conflicted. I am sad and angry and frustrated. I am going to sit back for now, and try to come to a resolution that feels right for all of us.

It’s a Flute Party!

Nov13

Have you ever been to a flute party? No? What, you don’t know what a flute party IS?

Don’t feel bad; I had no idea before yesterday either! But now I know, and it was pretty fun. We decided that we wanted to upgrade the girl’s flute for her graduation present, since we felt like she had outgrown her current flute. She’s going into music education in college, with the possibility of music performance as well, and we want to send her off as well-prepared as possible. And given all the things happening this year that might impact her college admissions and scholarship opportunities (State Band, honor bands, music school auditions) we chose to do it now, rather than at the end of the year.

Now, with other things, it might be simple. You go to a store, pick one out, and buy it. But instruments are different, because each musician is different. The musician has to find the instrument that’s right for her. So her flute teacher arranged for us to attend a flute party hosted by a woodwind dealer/repair specialist. There would be a variety of brands to play, plus we’d have other expert ears to help us decide. We also borrowed a flute from a local music store (so generous of Palen Music. We love them.) and ordered one on trial from Flutistry of Boston.

We showed up to the hotel and found our way to the room, which was just a hotel suite with two bedrooms. There were two sales reps there, one from Altus and one from Miyazawa, and there were two tables full of beautiful shiny flutes. There were lower end flutes all the way up to an $11,000 gold flute!

We quickly found ourselves in one of the rooms with several flutes, and it didn’t take long to narrow it down to four. But that’s when the work began. There were six of us listening, and while of course the girl’s opinion was the most important, her flute teacher was also very vocal. The sales reps were great, really only offering opinions when we directly asked them. And they each declined to comment on their own flute, which I thought was very classy.

And she played the flute. Over and over. Rotating between all four brands, trying to hear differences and preferences. I can’t imagine how it must have felt, to be presented with four beautiful, high-end instruments that all play well, and say, “Here, pick one!” But that was the goal, so we kept playing. Finally we did brackets, and compared two at a time, picking one from each bracket. Then when it was the top two, which happened to be the ones from the reps, they left the room and we brought in the party host to be an objective ear. Finally, after two pieces played on each flute, we had a unanimous winner, and my daughter finally relaxed enough to be excited about her choice. I think she’s going to do amazing things with this flute, and I feel really grateful that we’re able to do something like this for her.

Oh, my girl

Nov5

I am so in awe of my daughter. She is so strong, stronger than I ever was at her age. She has this passion for music, this talent for flute, and it has become an intricate part of her life. I can’t think of flute without thinking of her, and I often can’t think of her without thinking of flute. They are intertwined. She has worked hard over the last seven years and grown into a gifted musician, and she’s seen a lot of rewards from that work. She’s earned spots in district bands, state band, honor bands. She’s earned top ratings at competitions and played solos without a hitch.

But with every bright spot, there is a bit of darkness hiding. There is so much competition in this world. She hasn’t succeeded at everything she’s tried; she hasn’t gotten every first chair or solo she’s wanted. And to try so hard, to practice and work so diligently, and not get the results you want, must be incredibly disheartening at times. I can’t say for sure, never having been in anything so competitive. But I imagine, and my heart aches when it happens.

It happened yesterday. We went to District Band auditions. After an early bout of nerves a couple of weeks ago, she was feeling confident. She was practicing, working new tricks from her flute teacher, and getting good results. She felt good at the first audition, felt good after the callback audition, and we settled in to wait without too much anxiety. But the callbacks ended, and the wait stretched to 45 minutes, an hour, 90 minutes, and the stress built. What could be taking so long? 27 flutes for 13 spots (including the two honorable mention spots), surely it couldn’t be that hard to sort it out?

Each musician is scored during their audition, and the scores are tallied at the end. The drama comes if there are ties, and the judges have to come to an agreement on who gets which chair. Many flute players also play piccolo, and if they earn a chair on both instruments, they’re given the choice. If they turn down piccolo, the judges move to the next piccolo, and so on, until the piccolo spot is filled. So if you’re sitting waiting, and you see other flute/piccolo players getting called back to talk to their director, you know the results are coming soon. We did our best to stay patient and positive.

It took almost two hours after callbacks ended for her to get her result: second chair in the district band. That’s an awesome result. It really is, to get second chair out of all the flutists in the area who auditioned. And given how long it took to get results, it must have been an extremely tight competition, coming down to the smallest of details.

But. Last year, she had first chair. And when you’ve had that, and you think you’ve earned that again, second chair is bittersweet. I understand it, even as I know how wonderful second chair is. Like I said, it’s a competitive world. She’s been competing against the same musicians for the last couple of years, so it feels a little personal. You don’t just miss out on the spot, you see your competition in that spot. I can imagine how sharp and sour that must feel in your chest.

Plus her experience as first chair last year wasn’t all she wanted it to be. First chair typically comes with a certain spot in the band; the first chair flute is next to the edge, right beside the piccolo. And the first chair flute is given any flute solos in the band’s music. But last year, the district band director decided to switch things up, and he flipped the seating so that she was in the middle of the band, and had the entire flute section play all the solos. So while she knew she was first chair, she didn’t get to experience the perks that usually come with it.

So this year she was, is, disappointed. Sad, frustrated. She knew she’d done the work. She knew she’d improved. So why didn’t her spot show it? It’s hard to remember that even as you’re growing and improving, you’re not doing it in a bubble. The others are doing the same thing. You have to remember that there is some subjectivity to each audition, and something like first and second chair can come down to very small differences. It reminds me of Michelle Kwan when she won silver at the Olympics when everyone expected her to win gold. They’d ask her, “How does it feel to know you lost the gold?” And her answer was, “I didn’t lose gold. I won silver.”

That’s what my girl did yesterday. She earned that second chair. And she’s learning that you have to take each setback and use it as an opportunity for growth, without getting distracted by what everyone else is doing. She still gets to audition for All-State Band, and I think it’s likely that this will motivate her to work even harder to perform as well as she can.

And that’s why I’m in awe of her. Every time this happens, she finds the strength to rally. She sits back and feels the disappointment, and then she stands up, puts it behind her, and goes on to the next great thing.

I am immensely proud of her results yesterday, as I am every time she auditions. I can’t wait to see how it goes at State. But the greatest thing for me yesterday was watching her interact with the middle school musicians. She works with the 7th and 8th grade bands at the middle school, and she’s built lovely relationships with these kids who admire her and look up to her, and she found so much joy in encouraging them. She called them her “babies” and kept notes of who got what results, and she hugged them and cheered them on, and it was so sweet. She is going to be a wonderful teacher. I love that not only will she create beautiful music herself, but she will also help create future musicians. To have such a gift and be able to share it with others, that must be the most wonderful feeling of all. And how lucky I am that I get a front row seat.

P.S. There was a LOT of knitting happening yesterday, what with over eight hours in one building. That post will be coming soon!

Gloves and Flowers

Oct22

As expected, I finished the blue and gray fingerless gloves yesterday during our drive to the band competition. With an hour and a half, I even had time to weave in all the ends, so they’re ready to go to their new owner today. The base pattern is the 75 Yard Malabrigo Mitts, but I added the design element of the Twinkly Lights Cowl.

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It was a good thing I finished them before I got there, too, because once we got there, I didn’t really want to be distracted. The girl is a senior, you see, and this was her last marching band competition. She was a featured soloist in their show, a siren standing atop a pirate ship, and I’m always amazed and proud of her, but last night the finality hit me a little hard. Of course I’m so excited for the next part of her journey, but I can’t help but be sad that this part is almost over. I wasn’t a band geek in high school; I was a theatre geek. They’re actually pretty similar crowds, and I love the collaboration and camaraderie and commitment that I’ve seen in her bands. They’re good kids. She’s a good kid. Plus, I’ve discovered I love band music. I love watching marching band shows. Thank goodness I still have three years to watch the boy in marching band! Anyway, it was a lovely, emotional night, and the band did well, winning lots of awards, including Grand Champions in the field show category.

With the gloves done, I wanted to finish up another small project before returning to my bigger WIPs. The knitting group at work makes bouquets of flowers for friends who have lost loved ones, and we had a couple to make recently. They’re a beautiful variety of flowers: some people make felt flowers, some ribbon flowers. I chose my favorite crochet flower pattern, added a green pipe cleaner, wrapped the stems with floral tape, and finished each one off with a pretty button. I think they’ll make a nice addition to the bouquet.

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Now that I’ve finished two projects for others, I think I’m justified in going back to some selfish knitting today. I was clever and did the grocery shopping yesterday, so today I can relax with my tea and yarn. Happy Sunday, friends!

I Can’t Adult Today

May5

May, you’re killing me already. My brain feels so full. I feel like I’m trying to do 50 million things every day and forgetting 49 million of them. Sometimes people think that because I don’t have an official job, I’m a “lady of leisure”, and while it’s true that I do get great downtime some days, I definitely make up for it on others. My schedule is flexible, but that doesn’t mean my days are empty. I’m lucky, so lucky, to be able to be a mom full-time, but it can still be hard and crazy. And when it’s being a mom to a super-active teenager who doesn’t drive yet, managing and supporting her schedule feels like a job by itself sometimes. It’s one I like, one I chose, and remembering that does help.

I just feel scattered right now, unfocused. I’m trying to get the yarn orders done, I just started a proofreading project, and I’m trying to coordinate all the spring/end of school year stuff that needs to happen. There are birthday presents to buy and forms to fill out and concerts to attend (on a school night, natch, and some of them I want to bring my mom to, which adds another layer of planning) and Mother’s Day is coming up and some days I just want to abdicate my role as social coordinator. Really, that’s all I want for Mother’s Day: someone else to prep the house for company, someone else to buy the food and cook the food and do the dishes without me having to nag. Isn’t that funny, the best gift for Mother’s Day is a day off from being the mom?

Deep breath. I’m on week three of some big changes, and it’s possible they’re affecting me too. I’m halfway through my weaning period for my antidepressant, and I really think it’s going fine. I mean, yeah, I’m stressed out today, but I get stressed out every May when this craziness hits. But I’m not sluggish, overly cranky, weepy, or sleeping poorly, and all of those things are my problem signs.

I think it helps that I’ve committed to becoming healthier, and part of that is regular exercise. I’ve known all along that exercise helps; it’s just been a matter of motivation. Well, I’m tired of being the weight that I am, of feeling the way I have, so yeah, I’m exercising. And even though I admit I feel better when I do it, I still don’t like it. I’m never going to be an exercise junkie, or someone who preaches the joys of exercise. I do it because it’s better for my body and my mind. So, whatever. The stationary bike has become my friend, and I turn up the music and zone out on games on my phone. It works. And I’m making better choices in what I eat, cutting calories, but I’m not calling it a diet. It’s just making healthier choices, and that’s something I need to commit to for the rest of my life.

Ugh. It sucks getting older. Yeah, it beats the alternative, but I do miss the days of not having to worry about calories or exercise or being in charge of multiple people.

But it’s fine. We’re fine. Right? Right. I was going to take today as a rest day, but I think I need the head-clearing action of a little workout, and then I’ll tackle my to-do list, and maybe I’ll feel better when the list is a bit shorter.

Here’s hoping your head space is clearer than mine today!

The Birthday Girl

Mar8

Selfish knitting was interrupted by commissioned knitting yesterday, as I got an order for two baby Yoda hats. Fortunately they’re finished and ready to mail, but I don’t anticipate much knitting time today: it’s the girl’s birthday! And she’s 16!! In the blink of an eye, we went from this: to this: It’s gotten more fun with every year. She’s a pretty cool kid. Sad to think that in just a couple of years she’ll go off to college. But I won’t think about that today. Today we’ll just celebrate, and I’ll be back with more knitting stuff tomorrow!

Yesterday Was (not so) Awesome

Oct7

It started off pretty well with morning tea and knitting, but after lunch I went shopping for a few new clothes. Unfortunately, I needed a bigger size and only had one pair of jeans and maybe half a dozen long-sleeve shirts that fit well. The up side was that I found a few good things, but I wasn’t thrilled about the size I had to get. So I wasn’t feeling too great about myself after that, but I was trying.

Then last night I got in trouble. I got in trouble for letting my son order a shirt in a size that ended up too big, then for getting upset when he snapped at me about it. I got in trouble for running down the hill that morning to take him the frosting he needed for a class project (“Someone was THERE, mom”) and then found out that he was letting me walk with him to school not because he liked the time, but because he didn’t know how to say he didn’t want me to. I trust him to get to school safely, but it was one of the few times I got to spend with him alone, and I liked our little chats. Guess I was the only one. Then I got in trouble for not knowing where the rubbing alcohol was (“We have all these beauty products and nothing USEFUL”) and then in trouble for getting upset by being snapped at unexpectedly.

So yeah. Yesterday was SUPER. Maybe it was just a bad day for everybody. Sigh. Today I let him walk alone, I will email the band director about ordering a smaller size, and I’ll find the darn rubbing alcohol. AND I’m going to knit! That was about the only good thing about yesterday. I now have two finished Royal blue hats to take to the craft show, and I think I can get one more done today. It’ll be a beanie in super bulky yarn so it should go quickly. The brim on this one came out a little bigger than I wanted, but it should work well for those with slightly bigger heads, or with lots of hair. And if it doesn’t sell at this craft show, I might see about adding a bit of elastic to snug it up some. And I love how this one turned out! The gray and blue is a little less common for a KC Royals hat, but I love it. And I showed the side with the joining seam because I was pleased with myself. It’s still noticeable if you look for it, but overall it came out really clean and smooth. I just have to decide whether to add a blue pom pom. Personally, I’ll always vote for a pom pom. How about you?

I don’t miss my babies

May1

Earlier this week, I was at the doctor’s office with my mom. There was a woman around my age with a toddler and a new baby. There was also another older woman who kept telling the young mother how much she should appreciate them when they’re this young and they grow so fast, you know, all that stuff. The baby started crying while my mom was back with the doctor, and when she came out, she said, “Someone out here has a baby! I’m jealous!” The other woman chimed in, “Me too!”. I hesitated, then said, “I’m not!” And it’s true. Mothers of young kids, it’s okay to want them to grow up a little bit. It’s okay to look forward to the days when they’re not so young.

I loved my babies. Seriously. They were adorable and sweet and lovable…except when they weren’t. I haven’t forgotten how hard it is to have young kids, how much work it is, how much of yourself you have to give up in order to serve these tiny humans. They’re delightful, and demanding. They’re cute, and crazy. It’s rewarding, and repetitive. There’s a lot of joy, and a lot of tears. I mean, come on, colic? teething? Middle of the night projectile vomiting? Potty training? Temper tantrums? Playing the same game over and over? “MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM!!” It’s a hard job.

I’m so very glad I had kids. There was a lot I loved when they were young, and I do miss the sweet hugs, the excitement whenever they saw me, the cuddling, the innocence, the delight in each new development.

But guess what? Now I have actual people! I have an 11 year old and a 15 year old, and the last three years have been so much fun. I have these two great individuals who can take care of their own basic needs, who can verbalize their aches and pains. There are still tantrums but they’re few and far between, and I can actually reason with them now (to some extent). They’re smart, and I can hold interesting, intelligent conversations with them. They’re discovering what their passions are, and I love seeing what I can share with them, and what new things they can introduce me to. I marvel at the skills and talents they have now.

I watch who they’re growing up to be, and I know that I had a part in it. That’s more rewarding than anything else I’ve experienced up to now. Yes, of course, what I did when they were babies was part of it. It’s a whole long process, and I’m finally seeing the payoff. I have wonderful, wonderful kids. They’re kind, thoughtful, generous, still loving at times, sympathetic toward others.

Oh, they’re not perfect. They’re normal kids. They can be selfish, thoughtless, disrespectful, lazy, sloppy, and clueless. They get snappish and cranky with me, they forget to feed and water the dogs, they leave their shoes EVERYWHERE, and quite often they don’t smell so fresh. I still wake up earlier than I’d like, but only on school days, not every day. It’s still hard.

But then they thank me for driving them around, or they spend their own money to buy me a birthday gift, or they decide on their own to make me a card for Valentine’s Day, or they clean the kitchen without me asking. Any of those feel just as good as, if not better than, a hug from a toddler.

So moms, yes, appreciate the time you have with the little ones. But don’t fret about it going too quickly. It gets even better.

On School, Bullies, and Doctor Who Knitting

Aug13

So the kids started school yesterday, and overall both considered the first day a success. The girl said her day was “Awesome!”, and the boy said his day was “okay”. Given that he didn’t get lost, show up to class tardy, miss the bus, or have problems with his locker, my son said his day was better than he was expecting. In my mind, that’s a win, especially since he was in a good enough mood this morning while we waited for the bus.

My daughter loves her teachers, her classes and her new high school. She got a map from a helpful teacher and is figuring out where everything is. She’s excited about all the club and activity options offered, and is trying to decide which ones she wants to join to go along with marching band. She’s in a somewhat difficult situation, because 99% of her middle school friends went to a different high school, so she’s trying to find some new ones. She’s a great kid, friendly and helpful and kind and outgoing, and it won’t be long before she’s got a gaggle of friends again. But it’s hard to get there, especially when the people you trust turn on you.

With all the talk of bullying these days, I’ve seen more friend-on-friend meanness than true bullying. I know bullying happens, believe me, I do know. I’ve been through it and it’s horrible. And the Mean Girls stuff has been around forever, too. It’s just sad. It’s sad that kids can’t even trust their friends to be kind to them. Maybe it’s typical, maybe everybody makes fun of their friends. But it hurts. I think it might even hurt more to hear it from a friend than from a stranger. And it’s not just kids, it’s parents too, questioning and ridiculing my daughter’s choices. So maybe these kids are taking the hurtful things said to them and spewing it back out. Could it be a defense mechanism, a way to cope? I don’t know.

All I know is that I’m trying to teach my daughter how to be strong in the face of unkindness. I’m thankful she is self-confident, so these incidents sting but don’t crush her. I’m thankful she’s sympathetic and generous, and I am confident she would never talk to someone else the way some of her “friends” have talked to her.

I know I am trying very hard to restrain my mama-bear tendencies to go after those who have hurt my girl. She *has* to learn how to deal with people like this, unfortunately. And the sooner the better. I’m trying to help her find ways to communicate with these people, to let them know their words hurt, but it’s a hard skill. It’s something I didn’t learn until I was an adult. But boy does it help. I know sometimes teasing comes with love, and is not intended to hurt. But if it does hurt, you’ve got to let them know or else it will keep happening. And if it keeps happening, then you’ve discovered a sad truth about that person and you can move on.

Dealing with these hiccups, I’ve found that one of the best ways to cheer up my kids is to say the words “Doctor Who”. Yesterday I distracted them by showing them my LYS find. I celebrated the first day of school by going to Knitcraft and found some gorgeous TARDIS blue mercerized cotton. A row below was a fabulous red-orange-yellow multi. Well, put those two together and what do you get? Exploding TARDIS! I may not be a Whovian but I can speak the language pretty well. Needless to say, I bought them and am planning to make a market bag with them. I’ve cast on the bottom of the bag and hope to get plenty more done today.

Oy, what a day I had!

Apr29

We had a BIG day on Saturday, and I’m just now recovered enough to write about it. I’m lucky enough to have a daughter in IMPACT, the gifted program here in Missouri. In middle school, the IMPACT classes participate in National History Day, a fantastic program that teaches kids how to create in-depth research projects and relate them to that year’s theme. They spend months working on them in class, then they go to a regional competition. The top three at regionals move on to the state competition, and the top two from state get to travel to DC for the national competition.

My daughter is in eighth grade, so this is her second year competing. Last year, she and a friend created a website and made it as far as the state round. This year she worked alone, building a website about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire to go with the theme of Rights and Responsibilities. She’d forgotten how much work it took, and complained just a bit (i.e. a lot). By the time regionals came around, she said she hoped she didn’t move on, she didn’t want to have to work anymore on it. Regionals were held at the Truman Library, and she dressed up, did her interview and came home. She didn’t even want to go to the award ceremony that afternoon because she was so convinced that she wouldn’t/didn’t want to be selected for state.

We got a call from her teacher that evening: She had come in first in her category. Not surprisingly, she was delighted, and that recognition sparked a desire to work harder. She spent several days after school improving her website and when it came time for state, there was no mistaking: she wanted to win. She wanted to get to nationals.

The state round was held on the campus of the University of Missouri-Columbia. It’s a big campus with lots of history and lovely architecture, and even though we’d been there last year, we knew to get there early to allow for some getting-lost time. Her interview time was 9 a.m., the first of the day, so we were up and on the road by 6:30. We found our way around without too much trouble, and I saw these awesome signs in the Student Unions Center. They made me want to go to college again. I’d have fun at MU!

We got her registered and had plenty of time to get to her interview.

While we waited, she got out the iPad and made sure her website was pulled up and ready to go. I was amazed that she showed no indication of nerves. I would have been a wreck, but she’s got composure and confidence to spare.

She was done by 9:15 but we had to wait three hours until they posted the top six in each category. The judges would review those six and from them, pick the two to go to nationals. We had a lot of time to kill. Our first order of business was to go to the MU store to get her some flip-flops. Silly girl had forgotten to bring comfy clothes and shoes to change into, and her 4-inch heels were killing her feet. $17 later, her feet felt good. A trip to the nearby Old Navy netted her some sweat pants, and she looked like the perfect college student. By then, we had about 30 minutes’ knitting time (I worked on my shawl, she worked on a hat, the hubby napped) and then it was time to check the list.

This year it was good news: she’d made it to the next round. Whew! After the cheering and hugs were done, we realized that meant we had another three hours to kill. Well, that was easy: lunchtime in Columbia means Shakespeare’s Pizza. The pizza is spicy and delicious and worth every minute of the long wait. It’s a favorite for most of the college students, and the souvenir cups show up at a lot of different campuses.

I managed to sneak in another short bout of knitting but before I knew it we were in Jesse Hall waiting for the announcement. Of course, the individual website category was next to last so we had to wait…and wait…but at last they got to it. Third place, the alternate to DC if a winner couldn’t go, was announced; it wasn’t her. Second place…she won! As much as we were all hoping, none of us really expected it to happen. Of course she was over the moon; the only downside was that her best friend had competed in the same category and didn’t make it to Nationals. But even that couldn’t quash the glee.

So now comes the rush to figure out who’s going with her, make travel arrangements, revise the website even more. I’m pretty sure she feels it was worth all the work. It was a fantastic day, even if we were all exhausted. It was an emotional roller coaster. It was a lot of walking, a lot of people and crowds and talking and noise, and more walking. My feet were sore, my legs were tired–and still complaining the next day. I know the DC experience will be even more of all of that…and I can’t wait!