'Tis the season for thanksgiving, pumpkin spice everything and...multiple days of early dismissals for parent-teacher conferences. This past Wednesday was the first of these early dismissals at my daughters' elementary school.

I'd marked this on my calendar, of course. I knew it was coming. Nevertheless, a perfect storm of factors (I'd worked at the library until 9 p.m. the night before, Stanton was out of town for work, a freelance editing client emailed about an invoice soon before I needed to pick up the girls) coalesced that day, and I arrived late for school pickup.

A dear mom friend texted as I was waiting at the last red light: "Hanging with the kids :)." I, in turn, texted back the standard response of running-late moms everywhere: "Thank you!!! Almost there xoxo."

I parked the car, hopped out, ran over to the girls. "Hey, Mom," Grace greeted, unperturbed.

Meanwhile, Anna announced, "I didn't learn anything today."

OK. Great. I caught my breath. Thanked my friend over and over again. Hustled the girls back to the car.

Both my daughters have been incredibly encouraging toward me in this season of my life, as I work more now than I have in a while and learn how to do some new things with different projects. It truly touches my heart, friends.

Grace, like all 10-year-olds these days, is an information technology expert. She's my go-to girl for any computer, app or iPhone issues. "Just stay calm and don't freak out," Grace often advises as she adjusts the Zoom settings on my laptop, or closes all the open tabs on my phone.

The other day, Anna offered me her own pearl of first-grade wisdom: "Ask as many questions as you need to, Mom."

Will do, girls. Will do.

I, in turn, texted back the standard response of running-late moms everywhere: "Thank you!!! Almost there xoxo."

Because I've been busier lately, I try to plan fun activities for the free time that Stanton, the girls and I do have together: pumpkin picking, family basketball games, at-home science experiments. (Pro tip: Any "Create Your Own Quicksand Kit" that says it's "Easy to set up and clean up!" is lying to you. 😉 ) The four of us genuinely do enjoy all these plans (for the record, Anna loved making quicksand).

I've noticed, however, that some of the most meaningful times I have with the people I love the most just happen—unplanned, ordinary moments.

For example, last night the girls had their after-school performing arts class. After the class, we had yet another dinner of macaroni and cheese this week. But we sat around the breakfast-nook table together, eating and chatting...and we were totally there together, really with one another. I couldn't have planned a better moment.

Soon after, we FaceTime-d Stanton to say good night. Then, as I was getting the girls ready for bed, Grace said she had to tell me something.

Stay calm. Don't freak out. Ask as many questions as you need to. I took a deep breath. "Sure, honey, what is it?"

Grace closed her eyes. "I love you and Dad so much, but...I have to say, I love Anna more. She's first."

I exhaled again, much more calmly now. "OK. Whew. I totally understand, no worries."

"You do?"

"I do," I assured my older daughter, "and I'm so happy you love Anna the most." I added that I hoped they'd always be close, that that would make me so happy forever.

Grace smiled. "Thanks, Mom. Just so you know, though, you're so close. Like, so close to being first."

I laughed.

You can't win them all, can you, friends?

😉

This past weekend was one of my all-weekend shifts at the library. On Sunday afternoon, I was at one of the checkout stations when a woman with two young girls approached. I said hello, but before replying to me, the woman typed something into her phone, looked at it and then said, "Please, I want to be a member."

OK, I said, easy enough to do. I asked if she had any identification. She did, she said, but added that she didn't speak English very well.

I realized that she'd been using her phone for Google Translate. "No worries, we'll figure this out," I said. I smiled, hoping she could see the smile behind my face mask. I could tell she was smiling back at me, so I think she did.

I smiled at her two little girls too. They looked at me but stayed close to their mom.

Whenever I see a mom and two daughters, it's impossible for me not to think of my own family. My own two girls. I knew very little about the three people in front of me, except that they had recently moved to a new town.

I've been a newcomer myself a time or two, both with and without children. From what I know, it isn't easy at first. I imagine it's even harder when your first language isn't the one spoken in your new hometown.

It gave me a lot of joy, then, to set up a new library card for this woman. Because libraries have books, of course, but they also offer community, connections.

"Here you go," I said, handing the woman her new library card. I rummaged through a drawer and found some stickers for her daughters, who'd waited patiently the whole time.

She touched a hand to her heart.

It can be a big and confusing world we live in, with everything from face masks to manifold languages slowing down our communications with one another. I don't pretend to have any answers to the many complex questions of our world.

I do, however, have one observation, which is that when I see parts of myself reflected in someone else who's otherwise (seemingly) very different...I feel a connection; I want to help if I can.

Whenever I see a mom and two daughters, it's impossible for me not to think of my own family.

Last night, I reversed back into a parking spot at the girls' performing arts studio. There were open spots on both sides of me, so I wasn't too worried about reversing within the lines perfectly, but...

"Wow," I said, glancing down as I got out of the car. I had parked in the middle of two spots. "I wasn't even close."

"Wow, not at all, Mom," Grace agreed.

"Eek!" Anna contributed.

I sighed. "OK, let's do it, girls!"

And so we dashed to the studio.

Because this is what we do when I park badly: We run to where we need to go so that I can run back and drive the car out of there.

Crazy but true, friends. Crazy but true. Also...fun, most of the time.

You're so close.

Happy Friday, all.

❤

Photo credit: Pixabay

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