Tardy slips, redneck lockers, and other 6th grade woes

This year my twins are in sixth grade and I am their school librarian. Thing One was in last week with her class, and during a little talk I was giving I looked over and she had both her index fingertips on her eyeballs, moving her contacts back and forth. I slipped a "STOP" in as I was speaking and she did while the other kids just looked around trying to figure out who I was talking to. And she's my germ-a-phobe! Silly girl.

Thing Two's class came in the next day, and all he could do was sit there and giggle during my entire lesson with an embarrassed look on his face. I guess he thought it was funny his mom was talking to his class. But when I was finished giving my spiel, he walked over and gave me a big hug, so I guess he wasn't too embarrassed after all.

Life's gotten interesting lately, not just because they're at my school, but because it's middle school. They even have lockers. I think I win the "Redneck Mother of the Year" award for the way we decorated their lockers with pieced-together, taped up wrapping paper and homemade signs. I wasn't aware of the sophisticated pre-cut locker paper you can get nowadays. And did you realize you can even get chandeliers for locker ceilings?? Who knew? I wish I didn't.

Thing Two is having a hard time in school already. Today I got a couple of emails from his teachers saying he's been tardy too much and he's coming to class unprepared. He's forgotten his homework so many times that now he has to serve detention. I've seen his redneck locker for myself and it's already a disaster.

Sometimes in the mornings I watch him walk away from me and into his day and my heart just aches. I see things like him dropping his books in the hallway and having to pick them up with the kids all rushing past and I want to rush out myself and help him, yet I know he needs to make it without me. Most mornings for me lately are "Lord, let him make it okay" mornings. Sometimes the only way we can (or should) help our kids is by praying for them.

So I was feeling a little discouraged about it all until my sweet, disorganized mess of a boy gave me the biggest hug ever after school. It was a hug that made me know that somehow it'll all be okay.

I'm thankful for caring teachers who want success and independence for him as much as I do. I know he'll make it even if he has a tougher time than most. Even though his earthly father is gone, I know his Heavenly Father loves him even more than I do, and he's in good hands.

But I still wonder sometimes ... why did God choose me to be his mother when I'm such a mess myself? Whatever His reason(s), I'm glad He did.