"Sittin’ On the Dock of the Bay... Blowing Away..."

As I sit here typing this, hurricane Ike is bearing down on Texas. Specifically, Galveston.

I love Galveston. It is such a charming city. It's sad to think about what might happen to it as a result of this hurricane.

But, as usual, I am a master at finding funny amid horrible events.

The news stations and I'm sure other people issued an evacuation for Galveston. IMMINENT DEATH will happen to all that choose to stay behind. A wall of water taller than a 2-story house is expected to crash over the seawall and into the streets of the City.

IMMINENT DEATH! GET OUT NOW!

I'm watching the weather channel. Rubber-necking on a tragedy I'm hopeless to stop and yet determined to see-- after all, there may be some hope that it's really not that bad.

IMMINENT DEATH! GET OUT NOW! Flashing on the screen, over and over.

There's a news reporter on screen talking to the anchor woman.

"Well, we're here in Galveston, live from the Holiday Inn. We've taken cover because the winds are picking up and are now about 58mph. But, it's really those gusts that will get you. Those gusts are about... well, in the seventies..."

"I saw about three people behind you, wading through the water. What are people saying about evacuation."

"Everyone has been told to evacuate. This will be one of the most... worst hurricanes (big wind gust gets the reporter) in years. But, of course, there are people that stayed behind (another big wind gust) Emergency crews were rescuing people until about an hour ago when they had to retreat to safer ground..."

IMMINENT DEATH! IMMINENT DEATH! It flashes on the bottom of the screen in unique strobe light fashion.

"The water is about three or four feet right now... as the storm is now coming in to Galveston..."

"Yes, we see on screen that the worst of it is about an hour away now..."

IMMINENT DEATH! IMMINENT DEATH!

"Yes, which is bad for those people that chose to stay behind. Rescue is impossible right now... (BIG wind gust)... But we will be here all night feeding live to you from Galveston..."

At what point do you realize that it is highly possible your workplace has just sent you on a suicide mission?!

Well... Mommy Says...

We couldn't find the sunflower seeds. The snack of choice for a starving 4-year-old. Even though she had requested that her daddy get her some about half an hour before, they had gotten misplaced in the sudden excitement of skunk and doggie wars.

We searched high and low. Every cupboard, the refrigerator, the table, the bathroom, the freezer. None proved fruitful, which pulled daddy out of bed to come and help us search because he just had them in his hand.

He walked into the kitchen, Short Person hot on his heels, lamenting the loss of her sunflower seeds and crying about how she'd never get to eat again. It mixed quite nicely with LJS grousing about how he'd probably find them in 0.2 seconds of entering the kitchen, and "Alright, Woman, where did you put them?"

And then the most amazing thing happened.

Just as I was stating that *I* hadn't done anything with them and he was the one who last had them, Short Person spoke up and said,

"You know, Dad, my mom says you're kind of a bonehead sometimes!"

A few days previously, she wanted popcorn. Daddy was laying on the couch and I was picking stuff up in her room. I can hear her talking to her Dad trying to get him off the couch and into the kitchen to make it for her.

"Daddy, get off the couch and make my popcorn, NOW!"

"Megan!" I yelled. "That is not how to ask your Father nicely to make popcorn. Try again."

The little imp yelled back. "But... I said NOW!"

"You were supposed to say PULEEZ!"

"Oh."

Things are getting very interesting in our house. I just hope I can keep up.

Incidentally, the sunflower seeds were still clipped in the middle of her bed. Apparently, daddy dropped them there when we were all peering out the window to see if we could spot the little skunk.

Bonehead.

A Whole New World

I can't get the theme song to the Disney movie "Aladdin" out of my head. It tones on and on, and has been doing so for nearly a week now.

It has begun.

Day 1 of the next 13 years of school is set to begin tomorrow. School supplies have been purchased, clothes gone through and weeded out, new haircuts... so many changes.

I've been so busy that I haven't really slowed down enough to think about what it really means. I haven't done the "Oh crud, I have a child. I have a child and she's about to start SCHOOL." thing yet. I'm sure if I did slow down it would hit me with full force and I'd lose it and start crying uncontrollably.

Luckily, there's been tuition and picnics and meeting teachers and immunizations. There's been rearranging her bedroom (again!) and shopping and schedule changes for daycare. There's been forms to fill out, websites to log onto, calendars to ready.

It has been INSANE! Somewhere in my head, I thought it would be easy to sign her up for Preschool. I was wrong. This is simply a precursor to each year of school, I think. Each year, a repeat of the past.

So, no crying yet.

The whole thing reminds me of Short Person's first birthday party. Busy planning, busy decorating, busy getting things ready. Then, so many people and things to do... right up to that break where everyone sings happy birthday. I sat there singing and it hit me... I was singing... to my baby... who was now 1 year old. Wow.

In her baby book, there is a sealed envelope on the birthday cake page. I can't remember the exact words, but it relates the story I just mentioned above-- only it includes her dad and how close to tears he was; how he had to stop and think about something else because that same sense of surrealness struck him. It ends, "Never believe for one second you weren't wanted."

Tomorrow is orientation. It lasts for 1/2 hour. We get to drop off supplies and see her classroom and find her locker. At 3pm, we get to go and get a Hep A shot. The only (last) shot she needs for Preschool. My little trooper is going for 4 shots. After those, then she only needs 1 or 2 more for kindergarten-- which means she can wait an entire year to get them, and she's all for waiting a LONG, LONG time. (lol)

Wednesday, is orientation day for some of her other classmates.

Then, Thursday, she has her first full day. And I'm sure, somewhere in that pause, I'll lose it. I'll pause to think about the fact that I have a child... and she's starting school... and how not ready I am for that last piece of innocence to be lost in a world of learning.

For now, I'm going to go and sleep in the floor of her bedroom and see if eventually she'll sleep through the night in her own bed.