On this September 11th

Today, I walked and walked and walked. I have route that is familiar now, looping around the park near my house so I can peer in at the commuters sitting in still cars on the busy street while I breeze past, and then cutting through so I can watch the kids on the playground, the mothers nursing babies from benches nearby, the homeless people watching the world from blankets on the grass, the dogs and bikers and softball players and other walkers.

I watch as I walk, taking it all in. But I drown out the sounds of laughter, barking, honking, and parents yelling for kids that it's time to go home with music, usually loud, always with a beat that keeps my feet moving.

Today, the music was calmer, contemplative. I was enveloped in sun, I was surrounded my people and I was listening to this song by Iron & Wine.

It's "The Trapeze Swinger" and it is one of my favorite songs of all time -- up there with "Diamonds in the Soles of Her Shoes" by Paul Simon, "Polaroids" by Shawn Colvin, "Hallelujah" as sung by Jeff Buckley and "32 Flavors" by Ani DiFranco. The rhythm is hypnotic, the lyrics are exquisite and it speaks right to my soul.

Please, remember me
Happily
By the rosebush laughing
With bruises on my chin

it begins, and comes nearly to a close with

Please, remember me
Seldomly
In the car behind the carnival
My hand between your knees
You turn from me
And said 'The trapeze act was wonderful
But never meant to last'

I played it twice, and as it began the second time, the thought came to me that I hope someone knows to play this at my funeral. It wasn't a sad or mournful thought. It was an affirmation, an overwhelming sense of peace.

There's a lot up in the air for me right now. I am slowly mending my heart, carefully tending to how well I take care of myself, while maintaining a life that is often set to fast forward.

But today is September 11th, eight years from the day I evacuated my downtown office and later sat affixed to the television. That September 11th, I could not take my eyes off of the news, the stories, the panic, the reports, the pictures that silenced our nation. But much of the noise of that day was drowned out by streaming prayers and tears and fear.

This September 11th, I understand even more what it means to survive, both national disaster and life-altering trauma much closer to home. No matter how many years pass, no matter how much I am able to plan the details of my own funeral, the thankful feeling does not fade.

This day, I am grateful to be walking, warm, filled up music that moves me, surrounded by people I love and many I do not even know. I am grateful -- as I am sure you are -- to be alive.

Two years ago, this is what preoccupied my September 11th.

Last year, I meditated on moving through all tough times.

This year, I am centering on changing the world by finding peace within.

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Apparently, my son has ice skating moves

I picked up Lil E from his first day of school a bit early. He was eating graham crackers and he slugged down his apple juice, quickly wiped up the crumbs with a paper towel and ran to me. I knew he probably wanted to stay longer -- the afternoon activities that fill the few hours before working parents pick up their kids are often packed full of playground time and cooking projects and crafts that use glitter and glue and gooey Play-Doh-like stuff. But that first day, I knew he wouldn't complain that I came to get him too early because we had special plans and his friends were going to join us for them.

Before we gathered everything from his cubby, his teacher stopped me, placed her hand on my arm and told me that Lil E and his buddy Lil F were two of the biggest reasons it had been the best first day as a teacher she'd ever had. I beamed. How could I not? She said they were leaders in the class that day. And as I looked out at all the 3-year-olds who look so tiny (how did it happen that my son shot up so quickly so that they seem so suddenly small?) and it made me proud that my boy was helping them acclimate to the big, brave, new world of pre-K.

There was much to celebrate after that first day back to circle gatherings and tiny potties and some call-and-response thing called Woofy Woffie or something like that. Our something special was a evening at Disney on Ice. Lil E, three of his best buddies and three of their parents caravanned with us to United Center for the show 100 Years of Magic.

We were generously given the tickets for opening night. The women of Mom Central joined in to welcome us with much fanfare. The kids lit up as soon as we walked through the door, skipping and laughing and challenging each other to crazy light-up sword and princess scepter battles.

Let me pause here to say that I am and always have been amazed by figure skating. I took ice skating lessons as a child and spent many, many hours at the makeshift rink -- really just a flooded Chicago park field -- across the street from my childhood home. I watched Katarina Witt, Tai Babilonia and Randy Gardner and Michelle Kwan in awe. I was just as overcome by the Olympic skating as I was when I got to see the ice follies. I still get welled up when I see a skater breeze through a triple salchow or easily hoist a partner in the air.

I never really anticipated sharing this with my child, especially the boy who seems to be flooded with overwhelming amounts of testosterone, dinosaur facts and Star Wars obsession by the day. But sitting there, just feet from the ice, watching vignettes from many legendary Disney movies, I felt my awe spill over his own.

Lil E was enraptured, clapping and yelling out "WOOHOO!" to the characters from Nemo, Beauty and the Beast, The Incredibles, Toy Story, and Pinocchio. He couldn't contain himself at some points, waving his dangerously fun light toy and jumping up to dance along. As fun as it was to watch the show, it was even better than the Olympics to watch the kids.

I loved seeing Lil E's friend next to us, squealing over the princesses and singing every word to every song with her mom. I adored watching the kids waving furiously at the characters as they passed by on the rink. I've been asking Lil E to do his figure skating moves for me for days, and he has happily obliged. When I asked him if even loved the big number with all the princes and princesses you can imagine, he nodded emphatically.

"I just loved it all," he said. That's my boy. I just love him for that.

The energy was high and it quickly became a late, late night. But it was just so much fun, and Lil E whispered that to me from the back seat as he fell asleep on our way home.

Once there and tucked into bed, I said our usual prayer, thanking God for all the people we love, all of the friends that we have and all of our blessings. He insists that I ask God to help us dream about good things, and every night we list what we hope those dreams will be about -- everything from Scooby Doo to Chewbacca to ice cream sandwiches to checkers.

That night, I asked God to help us dream about Disney on Ice.

Lil E put his hand on my arm in the same way his teacher had that afternoon, stopping my prayer mid-sentence.

"I'm already dreaming about it, Mommy," he said. And that pretty much said it all for the night.

If you want to celebrate your kiddo's first week back at school at this show, I have a special coupon code for Sassafrass readers. The coupon code enables you to purchase a 4-pack of tickets for $44. The show runs THROUGH September 13th, so there's still time to experience a little of the squealy-goodness yourself. Simply log on to Ticketmaster and enter the coupon code:MOM.

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His sophomore year of preschool

Once upon a time, I thought it was an injustice that my son missed the school cut-off date by mere weeks. It made me sad that he'd have to wait a whole year to go to Kindergarten and would always be one of the oldest in the class. I worried he be bored, feel held back, get anxious.

But this year, as Lil E hopped (yes, on one foot, one of his greatest skills developed this summer) toward his familiar classroom, the same one he was in last year, I felt relieved. When we greeted his teacher at the door, the same teacher with a new married name, I was happy he was back.

Lil E is in exactly the right place. His school, his class and his teacher are the perfect fit for him as he begins this second year of preschool. He is delighted to read words now, works so hard at writing numbers, and has questions about everything from how to count cash to how you say animal names in Spanish to what blood clots are. He is curious, he is happy, he loves school.

I got a little choked up to see him with the backpack that is nearly bigger than he is, bounding toward the room he knows so well. Next year, he'll go from pre-K to The Big K. I can't believe he is this age. I can't believe it has gone so fast. I can't believe I am so happy he is in the place where he is (and that we are where we are). 

See that smile? That's the smile of a kid who has nine months ahead of him to master tying shoes and telling time and requesting that the more aggressive kids back off. That's the face of a child who has the gift of another year to be really ready for the big show one floor up from his preschool class.

For now, I will gladly take this reprieve and kiss this grinning kid goodbye for a few hours of circle time, small groups, snacks, naps, and lots of running around the playground.

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