Falling or Flying

I got a text from someone today about last night's post asking me basically, what the hell is going on?

Here is the Cliff Notes version (and btw, pray tell, why is it called Cliff Notes?  Is there really a Cliff?  Does he suffer from ADD?  And is he the same Cliff behind the Cliff bars?")

Monday night son comes screaming of something so horrible I can't even write about it but two phone calls later to the pediatrician and 2 hours later everyone is asleep by midnight.

Tuesday having complete mommy guilt because I MUST go to work because I have 40 parents coming to my room for a celebration, so leave it up to Aquaman who until 2 hours ago, I was ready to run over in my battery powered rubber ducky.  During this get an email from my dad who of course is in Istanbul of all places that my stepmother's father has been admitted to the ICU and the prognosis is grave.  They are trying desperately to get back to the states.  1 hour later get email that they have made it to Heathrow but he died.  All the while texting Vic to get updates about Drew.  The decision is made to go to Alabama, hence the song, for the funeral.

Wednesday-major mixup with my brother about child care and so sick that no one from the doctor's office has contacted us, take matters into my own hands and play the irate, fuming mother and DEMAND an appointment.  Realize that damn, Amelia's hip hop recital is this Saturday.  The poor girl missed her jazz recital when we went to the wedding in May.  Find 7:30 p.m. flight on aturday.  Beg, beg, beg dance people to put her on first so we can make the flight.  Agreed!  Three hours later have flights and hotel reservations and car.  Then comes this classic scene from The Steph and Vic Show:

V:  Can you drop my suit off at the cleaners.

S: (daggers coming out of eyes)No, drop off your own suit.  I don't have time.

V:  Do it this weekend; I don't need it for a week.

S:  What?

V:I don't need it for a week.

S: Oh, no.  No, no, no you did not say that.  OMG, you think the funeral is next weekend?  It's this weekend!  What followed can only be described as potty mouth out of control and flying shoes. How can a man who comes from a faith that buries their dead within 24 hours have thought that other faiths wait almost two weeks for burial?  

Go to bed knowing though that they now know what is wrong with Drew and he is on meds and go back to school.  

Thursday; wake up at 5:00 to work out, run around like a crazy woman trying to make sub plans for 2 days, correct tests, start report cards and then, then I am told about a job that might just be ideal so of course applied for that tonight while also filling out major paper work.  

In the next 5 days I will; attend 5th grade graduation, teach, do articulation, race from work to be Amelia's "brownie leader", stop by her class to see the project she's been working on, remember Margarita's?  Of course we are missing this when we are away; poor kid!, come home and pack, try to train, beauty appointments, attend hip hop recital, race to airport, fly to Atlanta, snooze, drive to Birmingham on Sunday, visit with family, funeral and reception on Monday, drive back to Birmingham (possibly try to go to Coca Cola World), wake up at 4:00 the next morning to catch a 6:00 a.m. flight.  And try to write at least 10 progress reports.                                                                                      

There is a great song called Falling or Flying by Grace Potter and The Nocturnals.  I'm more of a flying than falling kind of girl.  It's what keeps me going. The video I'm posting was actually shot in Birmingham, AL so I thought it fitting.  I'd like to thnik that I'm flying like in this picture.  OOh, maybe I should ask Brian to incorporate this in my new program?,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,