Thomas Sheets

And it just keeps coming…

I had just finished The Boy’s kindergarten parent/teacher conference. I was waiting to go into Blue Eye’s… She’s in 2nd grade.

My husband told me. Thankfully he knows not to go into too much detail if he can help it.

But he couldn’t help it much, because his groomsman lived in the town. With his three daughters.

Since the conferences were running late, I told him go. Go home, check on Facebook.

Turns out he sends his children to a private school, so they are safe. But he has to explain to his daughter why her two friends were killed. How do you even do that?

I was OK for a bit. The waves would come but I had to get through the conference.

Then I got home, and my sweet Boy ran into my arms.

And he seemed so small. All of a sudden, he was just a baby.

And I couldn’t stop squeezing him, so I could feel him breathe. And holding his face to mine, to feel it’s warmth. I relished in his wiggling as he laughed “Mama!!! You squeezin’ me too much!!”. Because I couldn’t stop thinking of those cradling their child whose body wasn’t so perfect.

I made it though the rest of the night OK. Driving back from a store I broke down, but I had on music and the 2 in the car were talking and laughing and it was ok.

That night I snuggled The Boy in bed. It’s a nightly thing, and I was starting to get tired of it. He’s 5 now, why do I keep doing this? Shouldn’t he be better about getting to bed on his own?

But I laid there on Thomas the Tank Engine sheets. Laid there and held my boy. I had his hair tickle my nose, listened to his little snuffs, felt him wiggle to get comfy.

And I thought of other beds. Beds with Thomas and Tinkerbell and Mario and Buzz.

Empty beds.

And I imagined laying there, alone, with my heart broken.

And I cried.

I won’t lie, this is rough. And really, what right do I have to complain? Oh poor me, I’m so worried about my kids. Oh poor me, my brain won’t stop letting these horrible thoughts go through my head. In the grand scheme of things, I have no right to complain.

But man this is hard… Anxiety is a very dark, real thing to deal with it.

But I will. I will.

I spent the weekend with everyone at my inlaws. We had a wonderful time! And I was so excited that on Sunday, Husband and I were going to have a “date night” watching the Survivor finale.

Then I would feel guilty. So guilty. How can I do that?!?! How can I enjoy life, laugh, smile, make plans, when somewhere out there there are families wracked with grief?

But you know what? I enjoy life, laugh, smile, and make plans for exactly that reason.

Because anything could happen. Car accidents, disease, evil doings, just to name a few.

ANYTHING can happen.

And if it does, I want my kids (or husband, or myself) to know that they are loved. I want them to know laughter and joy.

I want them to see that bad things will happen but we keep moving on. We move forward. We enjoy every last second of life. Because we don’t really know when that last second is.

Maybe I’m not so eager to get out of those Thomas sheets after all.

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About growingintome

Oh goodness... where to start! I am a preschool teacher with three little rugrats. A loving (usually!) wife. A Flybaby-in-training. Fascinated by natural childbirth and breastfeeding. Working on improving my knitting and crocheting. Would love to learn to play the piano and guitar. Dreaming of being a sign language interpreter. Totally amateur blogger. In case you didn't guess.
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One Response to Thomas Sheets

  1. Dana Fay says:

    I have no idea how to respond, but I wanted to let you know that I read this. *hugs*

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