"Tears-pouring-down-my-face, couldn't-talk-couldn't-breathe kind of laughing. Screaming laughing. So hard that I was sobbing because I couldn't get it together."
I am an assistant principal in a middle school (grades 6-8). When I have to search a student's cell phone, I often get sick to my stomach at what I find. It gets worse and worse every year.
"One little boy made his way up with one of the Centurylink staff and was upset that his dad wasn’t there yet and started making his way down the row of kids, holding back tears."
“My goodness these can’t be all of yours right? You do know you have to pay for college and weddings for them all right? Is your husband fixed? Are you fixed?”
"You can tell me to screw off BUT it’s pouring, my daughter was supposed to have senior pictures outside. She is in a wheelchair...There were serious tears from all after taking in everything."
"The question caught me off guard, like the car in your blind spot when you’re changing lanes, the one that lays on the horn and gives you the finger and sends your heart into a series of herky-jerky palpitations that make you wonder if you should dial 911."
They say cleaning your house with young children is like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos. The moment I finish cleaning the living room, I hear a crash in the bedroom that tells me a stack of puzzles has just been emptied on the floor.
"Moms, it’s time to loosen our grips. It’s time to admit that perhaps we’ve boarded the wrong train—a train we thought would take us to better discernment, but has actually led to fear, anxiety, and judging one another."
