Out of Gas

We like all the suburban families are deep into the lovely month of May. Everyone is putting their punctuation mark on the year. Every tap dance every band concert every piano recital every organization has its function and luncheon.

This morning my husband with an ivy league MBA ran his car out of gas a block from school. Yep.  That's where we're at. Pushing our luck. Pushing our cars. Lucky for him one of the piano dads ran into him and gave him a ride in the rain back to his car. I have to tell you, this is not the first time this has happened.

After the band concert last night and 23.2 ounces of Cherry Berry Mary woke up this morning with a soar throat. Of course she did.

Mary honey--I think you are fine--have the school call me if you throw up or have a fever over 101.5.
I'll be typing Sunday's recital programs and shopping for Saturday's Gala hoopla and making lesson plans for tonight's groups but I'll be happy to send a taxi to pick you up from school and have them take you to urgent care for the strep test.

Just kidding.

It could very well be that taking care of the people we love in the midst of our crazy times is the hardest hardest thing to do. We just want to get our own stuff done.

So here is a little end of the year wackies prayer:

Lord, help me keep my head on straight in the midst of morning noon and night activities of the next two weeks. Help me remember that this too shall pass and summer will be here and I'll drink coffee while I weed and then at a certain hour I will switch to wine and continue the weeding. Help me put remember to put the people I love first and take care of them and not snap at them and pray for them.  Help me not to worry about sickness and health but to put it all in your hands. Let all these activities bless my children and my piano kids--and bring out the best and the celebration in all of us--as they are meant to be--and to not just check them off the list as we go. Help me to be in the moment and not just behind the video camera. And help us fill our tanks with gas. The real gas--the love from you!

Amen