the letter

Have you noticed a distinct decrease of frequency between my entries? Fall Ball has begun. The good news - no one is on the Yankees this year. More good news - the kids both have excellent coaches this time. More good news - they both have lots of friends on their teams. And that's it. All is good on the baseball front.

Despite all that, things have seemed so very out of kilter lately for me, which is too bad because this is normally my absolutely favorite time of year. Fall is awesome in every way. I'm having trouble working up any enthusiasm this year and in fact I've been downright melancholy. Things all seem so bleak on the world front and I am so tired from overextending myself. I'm trying to enjoy the little things and live in the moment, but I'd rather just lay around and sulk.

So anyway, yesterday was the day around here to expect "The Letter." The Letter is an annual rite here. The schools here send one out to each student about 1 week before school starts containing the name of their teacher for the new school year. In the past, the letters have come, and my kids would spend the next hour or so on the phone chatting with their friends to find out who is in whose class and who got the favored teachers. This year, it was a little different.

Kath walked up the street with L and D for lunch and afterwards the four kids got heavily involved in a Pokemon board game. Being the adults that we are, Kath and sat on the couch, supposedly watching 'The Sound of Music' on DVD but were actually staring out the window and using our telepathic powers to will the postlady's purple/blue truck to appear. "What if Q gets 'The yeller' for a teacher?" "What if D gets someone he doesn't know for kindergarten?" "I'm so nervous!" "Me too!"

The phone rang. I bounced up to answer it, shouting "I bet it's Paige calling about The Letters!" Of course I was right. The mailtruck had just left her house, presumably because her telepathic ability is stronger than mine and Kath's combined, though she is helped because she's before us on the route. Oh! Oh! A new kink! Her daughter (E's friend) got The Letter, but her son (Q's friend) did not! Gasp. Oh! And her daughter ended up with a teacher's name we didn't recognize. Being the good PTA moms that we are, we had already done our research and knew the starting lineup. A newbie! I hung up and ran back to the window, wondering if my telepathic powers would be increased if I pressed my nose to the pane. Paige called back to report that she called the registrar at the school and found out who the new teacher is (a friend! a friend! A last minute replacement was needed, and one of our friends got the job!) and that she got the info on her son's teacher.

Then, our powers worked, and the mailtruck came and all havock broke loose. I started to hyperventilate as I leaped down the front stairs and Kath sprinted down the road to her house to get "The Letters." But woe! There was only 1 letter in my mailbox for E. She ended up with - the replacement! The new one! She's in her friend's class! But there was no Letter for Q.

I hurriedly called our registrar (feigning ignorance about the new teacher to give myself a reason to call), then made the poor lady go look up Q's teacher. He didn't get The Yeller!!! He's in the good cluster!

In the midst of my rejoicing, Kath came back, dejected. "No one got The Letter," she whispered. In the meantime, I had forced my kids (who were oblivious to the drama and were still involved in their board game) to call friends Robert and Caecilia to see if they got "The Letter". E talked to their mom Jamie, and horrors, they had not received them. So E instructed Jamie to call the registrar ..."sure Jamie, you just call the school and ask them. Yes - my mommy and Paige already did." Kath, who was about to burst, grabbed the phone to call the registrar, but the line was busy, presumably because of Jamie following E's advice and calling the registrar. (I hope you're reading this, sister Laura)

After a round robin of phone calls and one annoyed registrar, we mommies were all left happy, but feeling a little foolish. The one saving grace is knowing I am not alone in my foolishness. There is whole little band of foolish mommies around here and isn't it a strange coincidence that we all call ourselves friends?