Another get your parents to pre-read it before you do, post.
I had near daily morning sickness when I carried B, it stopped about 3 weeks before he was born.In the summer break between semesters tutoring at the community college, I spent a peaceful week sewing up about 9 backpacks that a seamstress from church had donated already cut out. The church families had filled them with school supplies for children living in a local homeless shelter, and I was to meet the social worker at the church to make the hand off. The number of bags came out just right, because one family bought “manly,” bags for the boys at the shelter. I didn’t think the homemade bags were sissy, but it would have been bad enough to live at a homeless shelter, let alone going to school with a sissy bag. That mother had 3 sons, and I figured she must know better than I did what counted as sissy when you were 8 years old.
Zion, Illinois is such an organized place, that the local K-marts and Targets have a file box in the front isle where you can look up your child’s school and teacher and get a print out of what supplies they will need, starting in August or July! Wow, if I had my paper grocery bags pre-cut by September 5th that was organized when I was a school kid in NY. They even schedule when the trick-or-treating may take place at Halloween!
Back to my peaceful week sewing and watching old movies on the TV. I felt so good, so peaceful and healthy on the day that I was to meet the social worker, that I made French toast with cut peaches and syrup, and drank orange juice and coffee for breakfast. The bags were already at the church, so I decided to walk the 1/2 mile. About 3/4 of the way there, I realized that peaceful week or no peaceful week, I had not beat the morning sickness; and orange juice (or coffee?) was just too acidic for me. I tried to find a spot to be sick in that would clean up easily, and wound up leaning against a tree over a storm drain.
It was a miserable as it sounds.
A hot looking woman with two children in tow jaywalked across the street a half a block from me. When they were opposite me, she pointed her finger and proclaimed to them, “That’s what happens when you do drugs!”
Be careful not to judge, least you be judged.
The social worker was charmed that the kids were getting handmade bags, and that they were so well stocked. With two 5th grade teachers and 2 homeschooling families in the congregation, not to mention those file sheets, how could we help it? Still, I basked in her approval.
B and I were super healthy at his delivery.