Worry Box

My kids have their first test tomorrow. I worry that they didn't pay close enough attention; that they didn't take good enough notes; that they might've had questions, but were too afraid to ask--(by the way, did you know that I am scary?? Go figure...); that I didn't answer something sufficiently when they did ask... I know that the answer is not in my hands, there's only so much you can do, and 'at some point you just gotta let 'em learn what those wings are for.' (puh-lease)

I just love my kids.

There's a great short-story author that I grew up on named Patrick McManus that had as one of his title pieces, "The Worry Box." The theory being that everyone has one, of different sizes, but always full and relative to the size of the worry. E.g., it might only be full of one worry (that has crowded all the others), but it's a big one - "THE CHECKBOOK... etc., etc." I am a big proponent of this theory, perhaps being that I was raised by champion worriers, but that's another story. I love that my worry box is full with other people. It makes me happy, as paradoxical as that is. I have people to worry for.

(have I mentioned that a number of my friends, teachers, and teacher-friends have started riding bikes? on some of the most unfriendly-to-bike streets I've seen...)

lots of prayer going on; I love that, too.