Prescott Place

The everyday adventures of Nolan and Griffin

The Unknown

Tonight I learned about the sudden death of a 17 month old little girl from a blog I read. In her post she wrote about this fellow blogger and her daughter. I have never heard of this precious little girl, but it did not matter. I am a mother and for that reason alone, we have a bond. I instantly clicked on the link to the home page of this family’s blog and read the only two posts about the sickness of the girl. The first post stated this little girl had a cough and congestion over the weekend. On Monday after a visit to her pediatrician she was sent to the emergency room by ambulance. In this post, although there was an obvious serious undertone, the mother joked about how handsome the EMT was. She obviously had no idea the seriousness of what was to come. The second post, written a day later, was written by a friend and not the mother. It said the little girl had passed away.

I instantly began thinking about Nolan and Griffin and what if that had been one of them? This little girl had a cough and congestion and passed away a day later. I have not read this blog in depth so I am not sure about her medical history. From the little bit I had read, it does seem like she had health issues, but still. This girl was born very premature, but Nolan was born premature too. She was seventeen months old. She was obviously a survivor. I thought about how this mom had no idea while riding in the ambulance with her precious child, her daughter would be gone the very next day. The tone in her blog post made that clear.

My heart instantly began aching for this mother and father. I cannot begin to fathom how a parent could survive the death of a child. I cannot imagine ANYTHING worse in the whole entire world. Losing a child would be crippling. My world would stop. How does a parent survive this and go on? I would rather experience the worst pain imaginable, if in return, Nolan and Griffin could be spared. I mean I would do anything.

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8 Months Old Today

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The Easter Story According to Nolan

A magic donkey helped Jesus.

Jesus rode on the donkey.

Jesus died at the Cross.

He died because the Cross was powered by electricity and Jesus ate it.

And then He is alive again!

He is like magic. A fairy magic.

Jesus then got a job. His job was to help Mary….the one who had the baby.

Then Jesus rode on the front of the donkey and Mary rode on the back.

The End

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Seriously….what else do I NOT know? The Finale

Fast forward two years.

So a little over a week ago I was going through my morning rounds checking email and facebook and saw a post from a friend on facebook that she was dreading having to get up “at the crack of dawn tomorrow to wait in line all day to enroll her child in PUBLIC Kindergarten.” Several thoughts entered my mind. The first being, “Oh no!! She lives in Allen. WE live in Allen.” My second thought being, “Don’t all kids get into Kindergarten at the school in their neighborhood?” And the third thought being, “I better check into this ASAP!” Unfortunately the investigation would have to be put on temporary hold until that evening when I would see her at Nolan’s Open House. (Side note. Her son and Nolan are in the same class at the now infamous preschool. She was referencing her older son in her post on facebook).

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Seriously…what else do I NOT know? Part Two

The phrase “you snooze you lose” has always resonated with me probably because I am never in the snooze category. Unfortunately this registration process, where everyone has an equal chance (Do you hear my sarcastic tone?), was for the birds in my opinion. But here I was amongst a sea of stressed out, panicky middle to upper class moms all with one goal in mind….get my child in this preschool. Oh don’t you wish you could have joined me? I admit I tried to count the number of parents in the room, but I lost count somewhere around a hundred or so. There really was no point. It was what it was.

Once everyone had received their number, school staff began calling numbers. When the moms proudly holding number one and two strutted to the registration table, the under the breath comments, dirty looks, and glares ensued. After about the fifth person registered, the preschool director picked up the microphone (which was now the enemy at this point), everyone gasped and then became silent. She said the dreaded words, “All three year old preschool classes are now FULL!” I am not kidding. People tossed their numbers in the air. Others immediately began texting and making phones. A few people made their frustrations known loudly, while a few others actually cried. (Hey, I can’t judge, I was on the verge of tears myself with all this anxiety and pressure.) Some moms started pacing back and forth. It was a very pathetic sight I must admit.

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