Fortunately, this time Tru and Jet were discovered hiding out at The Carter/Woody house down the block; who can blame them? They have a trampoline. After being apprehended and returned home, we all sat down at the dinner table (a novel idea) for some freshly baked Dominoes pizza before Danny and I had to jet out for date night.
Date night for us consisted of attending the Days of Plenty Concert at The Historic Murray Theater. Yet another one of my side-jobs is booking events there, although it took Molly Jackson and her incredible organization, A Good Grief, (www.agoodgrief.com) to get me to actually attend something I'd booked. In a nutshell, A Good Grief Organization evolved after Molly begin blogging about losing her little girl Lucy. She gained a following of bloggers who related to her loss and pain, and before long, hope grew from grief, along with Molly's overwhelming desire to help others navigate the emotional and financial hardships that accompany the loss of a child.
There was a whole slew of talented vocalists on the line-up, including Lea Cabrera, a dear friend of mine. At the end of the concert, while Molly belted out "Days of Plenty" from the musical, Little Women, a moving slideshow was shown in memoriam of the "Angel Families" from her organization who have either received headstones or are waiting to receive headstones for their little ones. I'm not much of a public-crier, but looking at those precious little faces--all gone too soon--I couldn't help but think of my own healthy boys and girl back home, and just how lucky I am to have them to hold, even if it's just for a short time. It goes so quickly! (And some days not quickly enough.) I can still remember a four-year-old Felicia singing on a pizza parlor table in exchange for free ice cream, and now we're getting ready to relinquish her to college. I made up my mind on the drive home from the benefit concert to be a magnificent mother most days, as opposed to a mediocre mother more often than not. I would get my maternal shit together and make cookies from scratch, put photos in an album somewhere other than Facebook, iron things with actual starch instead of throwing them in the dryer with a wet towel.
Who am I kidding?
When we got home and Jet (you've been hearing a good deal about his antics lately) came out of his room refusing to sleep, you know what I did? Instead of sending him packing to bed, I brought him into the kitchen and asked him if he wanted to make turtle brownies with me--from the box, of course. Silly question to ask a four-year-old. In the battle of brownies vs. bedtime, guess who won?
We washed down the brownies with milk and the pre-recorded elimination episode of American Idol--between the two, I'm not sure which could be worse for a toddler in terms of overall health and well-being. At any rate, it was after midnight when we finished our sugar and song foray. Tru had migrated from his room out to the couch with Jet, and Felicia fell asleep on the floor next to the space heater.
Now it's the morning after. I know I should feel guilty--although I'm not sure exactly why, just accustomed to it, I suppose--but there was no school today and we ate what was left of the late-night brownies for breakfast. Now if that isn't killing two happy birds with one stone, I don't know what is.
If you are dealing with the loss of a child, or loss of any kind, I strongly recommended following Molly Jackson's moving blog: A Good Grief Blog
Even better, donate to her incredible organization: DONATE NOW
PS. Max came home, too.
