No cookies

 Today is the 25th anniversary of the attacks on September 11.  It is difficult to fathom that a quarter century has passed since that mind-numbing day. The trauma of those events dramatically changed both our country and us, yet I find it perplexing that so many students seem blissfully unaware. 

I suppose this is how my grandparents must have felt when they tried to talk about Pearl Harbor Day. It felt so distant and irrelevant. I viewed the attacks as nothing more than an act in the past that did not have any impact on my modern life.  Talk about youthful ignorance. 

I am proud that my boys have a handle on the impact of September 11. I guess decades of baking and delivering cookies to our firehouse made a difference. For nearly 20 years we have baked and delivered cookies to first responders on 9/11.  Last year was the first year we did not deliver treats. It was hard to let the tradition go, but it is time.  

My purpose was to teach my boys about 9/11. I have done that, and I am proud of the reverence and respect that they hold for the tragedy. Right now, whenever I see a uniformed cop I see the potential murderer of my brother. Until I can easily identify the good guys from the bad, nobody gets any cookies. 

True Test

 The past few days have been difficult.  Between my twingy back and the oppressive heat, which my students' refer to as walking into Shrek's armpit, my days have been both long and miserable. Thankfully our air conditioner has been working well, allowing me to pop my leg off and completely cool off when I get home from work. At this point, I'll celebrate even the smallest victories.

Slowly my back has been improving. While I'm reminded of my age with each step, I no longer feel like a knife is being twisted into my lower back with every movement.  Today will be the true test because my schedule is heavy with elementary kiddos. I'll be bending, twisting and, if all goes well, sitting in bean bag chairs this afternoon.  LOL  Wish me luck getting up!

While I've been nursing an ouchy back, Timmy has been blossoming in his new school year. His friends have returned, as evidenced by the squeals of laughter that radiate from his classroom during social times, and he is settling into the new academic rigors. He will never admit that he likes school, but he certainly is not complaining anymore.  Yes, I'll celebrate the absence of complaints as a victory.

Wish me luck today! If I can get through the twists and turns (literally) this afternoon, I think I'll be on the mend.   

Back

Growing up I have always hated Labor Day. Not because I held resentments against the Labor Movement but because the holiday always heralded the beginning of a new school year. With classes starting three weeks ago, this year Labor Day was a welcome respite in the midst of a chaotic school start.  

Saturday I went to PA to hang out with my Mom for the day.  I helped her around the house before going shopping and out for lunch.  Although my visit was short, I enjoyed spending the afternoon with her. With Robby being home from college and Timmy enjoying his first weekend after starting school year, I didn't want to spend the night because I had a list of things to do at home. 

Sunday was spent chunking through my to-do list. Robby's laundry is clean, Timmy's classroom is set up for success and my paperwork for the week is done. It wasn't a lot of fun, but the hours were well spent. 

In retrospect, Monday would have been the perfect day for me to tackle my paperwork. I woke up and had a difficult time putting on my leg because of the pain in my back. I don't know how I tweaked it, but I know that I was wildly successful in completely messing up my lower back.  

I spent the day stretching, medicating, icing, heating, resting and complaining. This morning I am moderately more mobile, although I am reminded of the injury with each step. Wish me luck today, because my poor back is certainly going to need it!