Nina was concerned about a friend who lost her grandparent the other morning. She confided to her big sister that she didn’t want any of the people we love to die.
Sophie let her know that they go to heaven when they die, and when she dies she will see all our family and friends that passed before.
Nina let her sister know that she was not sure the way to heaven. (Some days I can attest to this very confidently.)
Sophie answered that she didn’t need to worry because God would come get her and take her there.
Nina asked if there was a bus. You know like a God bus that everyone goes on?
Sophie assured her that it is exactly like that. A wonderful God bus.
I don’t know. Maybe I’m the naive one but I guess I always thought it was a God jet.
Side note: if you think I wasn’t bawling like a baby beneath the sun glasses I kept on while walking through the halls of daycare- you’d be wrong. God jet wrong.
Fast Forward To Present Day
That concludes the sweetest story ever told (you can’t argue that point, I won’t hear of it.) I’m pretty sure that we could all use a little bit of the God Bus in our lives today. I know, I know- Mandelynn, God Bus isn’t a saying. Stop trying to make it into a saying. I will turn this God Bus around if you don’t adjust your attitude. One of those ways I’m using it is sure to work. I just have to believe (and I do).
I know, I know- Mandelynn, God Bus isn’t a saying. Stop trying to make it into a saying. I will turn this God Bus around if you don’t adjust your attitude. One of those ways I’m using it is sure to work. I just have to believe (and I do).
I had the below piece up on Sheknows.com. It is a list of signs that your kids are trying to ghost you a little bit as they grow up. Luckily someone did some work on that title, huh? It’s a mouth full. That is for sure.
Anyway if you wanted to click on it and read it, I would appreciate it so much! Or even just click on it. I’m not going to quiz you to check if you really did read it. My performance as a writer kind of depends on the interaction of people that read the articles, so if you enjoy seeing me write or want to support me in any way– those clicks will do it. If you don’t want to support me, fair enough. I can’t fault you for that.
Not too much else going on over here otherwise. My youngest is in Taekwondo. That seems fun. My oldest hasn’t really figured out what activities to go into. She sings beautifully and talks about being a singer. She doesn’t want to sing in front of people though. I’m the last person that knows anything about the singing biz, but I’m concerned that may hinder her career choice.
“Hans from 5A killed Isabelle,” Nina sadly proclaimed from the backseat this morning. We were on our way to preschool. She is in 5B at school and apparently 5A is filled with.. well, killers. That might be harsh, but we are in mourning. You will have to allow some emotion here.
“Umm, what do you think of this weather?” I ask.
Don’t you raise an eyebrow at that. Murder is a pretty big charge and I needed to mull this over. Also the sun is out and let’s appreciate the small things.
Than it dawns on me. Isabelle is a worm. It’s not a kid/person.
She tried to pull this on me last week. She gave a long story about seeing Isabelle and being so happy. I asked if Isabelle had just started there at the school. She informed me that I was a crazy nut (not so much in words as in facial expressions-trust me, I can pick up on the subtleties.)
You see, Isabelle was the worm she had as a pet at Nana and Papa’s. Isabelle had heroically traveled the roughly 25 miles (I have no concept of mileage, space or time so let’s not take that estimate as fact) to get to Nina’s school. All to see her. I imagine it would have been some sort of ride hitching with a bird ala Finding Nemo. I didn’t ask though because I suspected that was not the part of the story I was supposed to be focusing on.
Basically Isabelle does all this “legwork” and Hans comes along and destroys the bond between a girl and her worm(s). Hans isn’t his real name because I don’t want this to follow him throughout life. We have to be the bigger person here. He probably did not mean malice. He probably hasn’t ever had a loyal worm and wasn’t aware of that amazing feeling of finding them everywhere you go. Seeing them grow and then shrink depending on where you see them. Seem them dried out on the sidewalk one minute and wriggling in the dirt the next day.
Truth be told I am not well experienced in this bond either.
Also another drop of truth- I didn’t need help with the Isabelle mystery per se.
When I told my five year old about it, she asked why her name wasn’t in the spot under the title. You know the top billing spot for the auther. I tried to explain that she didn’t do any actual work on the piece. Point of fact she probably hindered the piece significantly, but I’m not sure that she understood what I was getting at.
I then excitedly informed the seven year old because she can actually read and I thought (mistakenly it turns out) that she would be impressed. The pull quote from her was “Oh yay, I’ll go tell all my friends. Wait, they don’t care.”
As you can see my ego has taken some hits. However it’s still trucking along and I’m still proud. I’m still letting this little light of mine shine, even if everyone is trying to sleep and they are groggy from a night out drinking yelling turn that damn thing off you psycho. Sorry dudes, I need to have the light shine. Drink more responsibly and it wouldn’t even bother you.
How Do I Find This?
So to see this masterpiece you can click below and go to page 66.
Or you can drive to the Black Hills (highly recommended regardless) and pick one of these bad boys up in person at the store. I would love you forever if you picked one up, took a picture with my article and posted it to the facebook page. Who am I kidding? I already adore you.
Where Can I Get More Oh, Mandelynn?
If you are looking for some additional places to read my work, please click here. There will be some new stuff soon.
The dog thinks she will be taking my place soon. She has tried to getty on up to my pillow slowly, but surely through the night. She thinks I don’t notice, but there is one fatal flaw in her plan of the sneak attack. Kerry snores. You might be aware of that if you are familiar with my previous work—mainly other facebook status updates—well this dog is not a fan either (maybe she really could take my place- I digress.) When he gets particularly heinous and loud, she lets out an annoyed growl. This noise alerts me to her position which is mere inches from my pillow. Thankfully allowing me to take anti pillow theft actions.
Not cool dog, not cool. I don’t share pillows. Here is where I try to make it seem like maybe Kerry’s snoring isn’t so bad afterall because it’s like an antitheft device for my pillow, but it’s almost like the keyboard won’t make those words type out here. Oh, well I can only do so much when there is a tech malfunction such as that.
What’s In A Name?
I should also fill you in on the fact that her full name is Sunny Hunny Bunny. My youngest has said it and thus, it is so. Occasionally she does shorten it to Sun Hun Bun, but when I try that it doesn’t go over well. Not with the people around us, nor with the actual dog that I imagine just wishes she could be called Spot or Max for the love of Milk Bones.