Letter from Sandy Hook Elementary School Parent

I received this beautifully written letter from a parent at Sandy Hook Elementary School. 

Hi Erin!

Thanks so much for your generosity!  It's amazing how much support our community has received from around the world!  We really do appreciate everything that has been done to help us. Acts of kindness such as this are what helps us to show our children that there really are good people in the world and that people from all over the world care about them! 

Last week we started at our new school and we are taking it slowly, day by day.  Most of the kids are excited to be back in class and back to a "normal" routine.  My student is a second grader at the school and their classroom was directly across the hall from Ms. Soto's and Mrs. DeMato's rooms.  My child and several of their classmates are having a particularly hard time coming back to school since just being in school is bringing up memories of that day.  Their class was just feet away, hiding beneath their coats in a corner.  They heard it all and saw more than any child should have to witness.  We have good days and we have bad days.  The kids jump at loud noises, cringe at the sound of sirens, even smells of smoke will bring up bad memories.  Then there are the days when the kids are all together and you can see the special bond they have formed by having endured such a horrific event together - they are all there for each other - ready to give hugs or a pat on the back, giving each other drawings, stickers or cards - anything to show that they care and they understand what each other is going through.  They are an amazing group of kids and they have amazing teachers! Just watching those kids together gives me hope that there is a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel and they are the ones who are going to lead us there.

Your idea to send the Box Tops is fantastic!  I know so many people want to know how to help.  This is a great way to help since we really don't know at the moment what we'll need down the road.  The money we receive from Box Tops will go a long way to helping us meet any needs we may have as we move further along in the school year and beyond. 

Thanks again so much for your support!!!!!

If you want to send Box Tops 4 Sandy Hook, please send them to the following:

Sandy Hook Elementary School
Att: Box tops 4 education coordinator
12 Dickinson Drive
Sandy Hook, CT 06482

Box Tops 4 Sandy Hook Update

Yippee! Box Tops 4 Sandy Hook really seems to be catching on! As we are busy spreading the word via social network, we are thrilled that several companies contacted us to let us know that they are sending the information to their employees, vendors and contacts! Today we got word that the Federal Reserve is posting a notice in their employee newsletter about the drive. They join The Land of Nod, Fab.com, Lilla Rogers Studio and Sephora in spreading the word! Thank you to these fabulous companies!

Many schools have also joined in, offering to send to Sandy Hook the Box Tops they have collected, or the Box Tops they will collect during an allocated time! This includes many schools who could greatly benefit from the Box Top funds themselves-Wow! That makes my heart swell!



Please continue to spread the word! (see below for details)

We are sending all of our "Box Tops 4 Education" to Sandy Hook and encourage everyone to do so as well and to spread the word to their contacts! Sandy Hook will receive the revenue from "Box Tops 4 Education" and will be able to spend it as needed. I love the idea of being able to help and if lots of people do it, the impact will be much bigger than what most of us could do alone!

From the "boxtops 4 education" website "We all shop for groceries, sometimes two or three times a week –- or more. Now turn those shopping trip into easy cash for your school, and encourage friends to do the same!  Just look for the Box Tops logo on hundreds of products like Cheerios^®, Hamburger Helper^® and Kleenex^®, in almost every aisle of the store. All you need to do is clip and send them to your school’s Box Tops coordinator —- each one is worth 10¢ for your school."  Check out their website here: http://www.boxtops4education.com/ for more information.

I am hoping that everyone who reads this joins us in mailing their boxtops to:

Sandy Hook Elementary School
Box tops 4 education
12 Dickinson Drive
Sandy Hook, CT 06482


Please post this on your facebook, forward to your email contacts, tweet or pass it along anyway you can and help spread the word! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Box Tops for Sandy Hook

Like everyone else in the world, my heart has been so heavy for the families in Newtown, Connecticut. Actually, my heart has been aching for everyone, everywhere-children whose bubble of innocence and security was decimated by unfathomable violence, parents and guardians who must press on and send their children to school after such a stark reminder of lurking danger, and for all the communities who feel a little more vulnerable these days.

As everyone grapples at making "sense" of the senseless, debates gun control and mental health access, dissects and bisects why, how, who, wanting answers and wanting the assurance that it won't happen again or can't happen to them-also wanting to act, to reach out, to show that good and right are stronger and mightier than bad and wrong. There is a helplessness that accompanies that-there isn't an acute act that will make everything better-that will bring the victims back, and really, isn't that what we really want to do? The only way to erase the devastation?

At our house, we've been searching for something to do. An act to help us grieve and to process and to act, but also that would be beneficial to the Sandy Hook community.

Okay, so I must give credit where credit is due-Steadfast Husband came up with the best idea! He suggested that we send all of our "Box Tops 4 Education" to Sandy Hook and encourage everyone we know to do so as well-and they will encourage everyone they know to do the same-and so on and so on! Brilliant-they receive the money this generates and are able to spend it on what they need and if lots of people do it, the impact will be much bigger than what we could do alone!

From the "boxtops 4 education" website "We all shop for groceries, sometimes two or three times a week –- or more. Now turn those shopping trip into easy cash for your school, and encourage friends to do the same! Just look for the Box Tops logo on hundreds of products like Cheerios^®, Hamburger Helper^® and Kleenex^®, in almost every aisle of the store. All you need to do is clip and send them to your school’s Box Tops coordinator —- each one is worth 10¢ for your school."  Check out their website here: http://www.boxtops4education.com/ for more information.

I am hoping that everyone who reads this joins us in mailing their boxtops to:

Sandy Hook Elementary School
Box tops 4 education
12 Dickinson Drive
Sandy Hook, CT 06482


Please post this on your facebook, forward to your email contacts, tweet or pass it along anyway you can and help spread the word! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

confessions of grief

Today is the anniversary of the day baby Hart died. As a way to honor his memory, I'm going to roll around and wallow in my grief. I'm going to face it honestly and head on, without regard for social mores or self consciousness.
When your son dies it sucks-no it SUCKS. It doesn't "stink" it isn't "unpleasant" it doesn't leave a person "distressed" or "distraught". It SUCKS and there aren't enough faces in the world to punch, garbage cans to kick, or sand castles to stomp on.

People judge you by how you handle your grief. It upsets others to see a person mourning, and brings them comfort when "you're holding up well".

Euphemisms abound-and not that I don't appreciate the old "he's in a better place" as much as the next guy, but guess what? WHO CARES???? My son may be better off in heaven, but I'M NOT! I MISS HIM EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY! So you can take your euphemisms and spread them where the unicorns roam amongst the rainbows-because today, I don't want to hear it. I want to wallow in my grief. I want to miss my son and THAT'S OKAY! I understand that it is a burden to have to deal with someone who is acting and feeling completely unreasonable-I have teenagers. It's exhausting-I get it. And the natural inclination is to comfort with words that will make the person snap back to a state of reason (and it would be nice if they could at least be grateful for the service!)

But words of comfort aren't what I need right now. Honestly, I can't even hear your words right now. Grief comes in many forms-from all consuming (which is why I can't hear your pearls of wisdom right now) to subtle-my grief is always with me, as my breath-I am not always aware of it, but it's always with me. And if you can't relate or understand-that's okay, but please extend to me grace or wide berth.

I sometimes think about the person I was before I loved Hart. The person I see in my rear view mirror was carefree, quick to laugh, blissfully ignorant. I will never be that person again. It's not conscious, and I don't believe people look at me and think "gosh, I bet she used to be footloose and fancy free," but I recognize the person I once was and as hard as I try to return to that person, the further she slips from my grasp. It feels like some ancient tragedy come to life-as though my fatal flaw- having experienced unfathomable loss-will now hang over me like a mantle-the inevitable devise that guides the course of my journey.

I cannot talk about Hart's life without talking about his death and that makes people uncomfortable, I get it and I'm so sorry for your discomfort, but guess what? My empathy for your discomfort is outweighed by my desire to share my son-so there!

I feel very fortunate to have a reservoir of empathy
I feel very impatient when I hear what other people call "tragedy"
I feel grateful that most people can call a hangnail tragic and not know better (or is it worse?)
I feel incredibly wise
I feel remarkably ignorant
I feel blessed by perspective
I feel cursed with perspective
I feel like a member of an exclusive club- a private knowing that defies explanation
I feel lucky-I feel like my children are some of the most empathetic, kind hearted creatures in the world. And I feel like when they are disappointed or hurt and someone says "well, that's part of life, people need to experience disappointment-it defines character" that I want to punch them in the face and say "are you freakin' kidding me? WE KNOW ABOUT DISAPPOINTMENT"

I feel like people are stupid
I feel like people are amazing
I feel like there are enough days in the year to hold it together that I can totally fall apart one day each year.
I feel like I can be totally happy for you and sad for me at the same time.
I feel frustrated that there are social guidelines for measuring how one is dealing with loss. It is so unique for each of us, that there is not one path.
I feel grateful for society's expectations of how people behave as they grieve. Sometimes, when you have no idea what to do or how to do it, it's nice to be told.
I get very defensive when people use depression and sadness as synonyms.
I feel like I wouldn't wish this on anyone, but that if I could trade places with my worst enemy I would feel like they don't deserve to be in my shoes.
I feel selfish and selfless
I feel like every one's life deserves to be honored and cherished and that it is a tribute to them to be missed. And that if I weren't so sad and missing Hart today-what would that say about him? and me?

And finally and most importantly, I feel like it's okay to be sad. It's okay to live the entire day with tears in my eyes and snot dripping out of my nose. It's not pretty, but it is beautiful!



.

Here we go again! Remembering Baby Hart in Word and Song!

Yesterday was the day. It happens every year around this time. My beloved little boy's birthday is drawing near and "the crying" has begun. There is a clear progression that occurs that precipitates "the crying" yet, it always takes me by surprise.

First, around the end of October, a quiet pall, slowly, stealthy, gently drapes itself around my day. It occurs so subtly that I don't notice until it's been in residence for about a week and I've exhausted all other excuses for my irritable (and I'm sure irritating) behavior. Then I get annoyed. Annoyed that I have no more control over my emotions, that my ability to compartmentalize my emotions or at least put a pause on them has completely abandon me. It's my gift, the gift of getting through the day, the gift that enables me to get out of bed each morning, to find joy in each day-and suddenly it's gone. And that's completely annoying!

But still, I go on, annoyed and morose. Short-tempered and appalled at other's (seemingly) complete lack of perspective, at the same time I, myself, over react to the most insignificant slight. With an enormous amount of eye rolling (well, even more than usual!), on I march.

Then, without an ounce of subtlety and complete lack of gentleness, "the crying" begins. Unlike the previous incarnation of grief, this step begins quite abruptly, but still, I am slow to recognize it for what it is.  This is what happened yesterday. Like a spontaneous nosebleed, one moment I was fine, the next, I was spewing bodily fluid.

 I was driving to the grocery, singing "Little Talks" by Of Monsters & Men, enjoying the moment, enjoying the fact that my mind was completely blank, a rare moment of complete lack of responsibility to anyone but myself (and my fellow road mates). And suddenly I realized I was crying. Full-on tears rolling down my cheeks, runny nose, quivering lip-the whole nine yards (and sadly, I'm not a pretty crier-which, ironically, always makes me cry harder!)

Unlike typical crying, "the crying" often comes before thinking, before the even slightest awareness of melancholy. But then, like a dam breaking, the thinking begins and the hurt takes hold. The what-ifs, the should-ofs, the longing come rushing to the front of my mind. I think about Hart, who I miss to infinity and beyond each and every moment of each and every day. I think of my steadfast husband, who is the only other person who comes close to experiencing these same emotions, questions, thoughts and that I am so grateful to share this life with him. I think of my surviving children who are the most amazing people I know- even more so for their capacity to love and empathize, for their ability to put things in perspective and to see things with a complete lack of perspective and because they know what it's like to experience a horrific loss and get up the next day and find joy in the world!

And then I think of the hurt they've experienced and it breaks my heart and I think no one should ever have to know that kind of pain. And I think of Baby Girl who never got to meet her brother, and this just about kills me. And then I think what an enormous emotional price we have paid and I feel guilty, then I think it was completely worth it and that if I could trade one minute of Hart's life to erase all of the pain and heartache, I wouldn't do it.

I think about how lucky I am. How I got to hold and love an amazing little soul. I got to know, hold and fall completely in love with someone who, scientifically speaking, was never even supposed to be here-not even for a minute.

Then as suddenly as it came, "the crying" was gone. "The crying" was gone but the feeling-the feeling remained. It was the same feeling, but completely altered-it was a feeling of warmth- a knowing, a satiation-still as profound, still as intense, but filled with comfort-the same, but different.

"The Crying" Day 2

This morning, about a half-hour into my early morning, family-free quiet time, "the crying" came back for a visit. I know this is "the crying's" motis operandi, but still it caught me by surprise. I will have to work harder at being on guard- expecting the unexpected-but, as a person who jumps every time someone opens a can of Pilsbury biscuits (the pop always gets me) chances are I will continue to be caught off-guard!

Two of the moppets woke-up early (curses!) and saw "the crying". They asked what was wrong and I told them that I was missing baby Hart. I told them that it's okay to be sad and that they shouldn't be upset that I was crying. (I feel very strongly that children don't think it's wrong to be sad or that it should be kept secret). Of course they became quiet and thoughtful-then Baby Girl did what Baby Girl does-she wrote a song! Unbelievably, it occured to me to video her performance (on my phone) because she is the queen of one hit wonders-(actually, she can't remember any of her songs well enough to repeat them) and I didn't ever want to forget this fabulous moment!  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQKV5zjdsPA&feature=plcp
It made me smile through my tears and even made me think (for a very brief moment) that early morning quiet time is over-rated!

Jackson Pollock Appreciation Day!

Saturday I woke up in the mood for some big, fabulous, messy, artistic fun. I envisioned an unbridled, no-holds-barred, painting fest-a la' Jackson Pollock! And then...I had a vision of an unbridled, no-holds-barred, painting fest-a la' Farrah Fawcett! Before I let the second vision eclipse the first, I told the moppets my plan! (I do this thing when I am a little apprehensive to dive into an idea, I say it out loud, in front of witnesses-witnesses that have the potential to be very annoying if I don't follow through!) So, it was official, our very own Jackson Pollock appreciation day was born!

Although I don't believe that art can be "wrong"- I do believe it can be ugly. In order to tip the odds in favor of having an eye-pleasing object d'art,at the end of the day, I bought three canvases-2 for practicing and one that would become our "masterpiece" (or at the very least-practice canvas number 3!) Additionally, I chose paint colors that (in my opinion) would work well together and were pleasing to me! But most importantly, I also chose to remain consistently vague about what we would do with our masterpieces after we finished-just in case.

The only real "rule" I declared was that we couldn't touch the canvas. We could use any tool or style as long as there was no contact with the surface of the artwork!  In the beginning there was a definite food fight mentality, but after a few hits, because there weren't any rules forbidding it, the appeal of splattering, sloshing and throwing paint at each other quickly waned and the desire to create art took hold!

I must admit that I had to let go some minor control issues and go with the flow, but once I did, we all had a blast! Perhaps celebrating abstract impressionism a few days before your cousin's wedding isn't the best timing (sorry, Andrew-Baby Girl still has some really stubborn red paint in her hair!) but what a small price to pay for such an awesome experience and life-long memory!

Vince Vaughn reads my blog?

Okay, I just got this email and had to share! Very funny! It seems as though one Mr. Vince Vaughn has teamed up with CBS and Lloyd Schwartz (son of The Brady Bunch creator Sherwood Schwartz) to create a reboot of The Brady Bunch! 

                                                                                                                           photo by: James Caws

I didn't know Vince Vaughn read your blog! Check this out!

http://news.yahoo.com/brady-bunch-reboot-vince-vaughn-works-cbs-010205176.html

Serendipity: Brady-Style

Our summer of living Brady-fully has gotten off to a bit of a slow start. Thanks to (in no particular order of distraction) a tornado that hit the Cottage in June, First Born breaking his foot and the surgery that followed, Puppy's surgery and subsequent self-removal of stitches, Steadfast Husband's travel schedule and well, it's summertime and the living is easy! But yesterday, serendipity struck in Brady-like fashion.

Remember the Brady Bunch episode when Greg and Bobby got stuck in Sam the butcher's meat locker? They were locked in until Greg broke the glass out of the window, Bobby squeezed through the small opening, used the payphone to call for help and saved the day! Well, the other day we had an incident here that reminded me so much of that episode!

We decided to take an over-night trip to the beach on Sunday. We had such a great time, but First Born decided to stay home (the thought of crutches on the beach didn't appeal to him for some wacky reason!) We spoke to him a couple of times Sunday evening, but when we tried to call him mid-morning on Monday, we didn't get an answer. We didn't think much of it, his convalescence seems to consist of sleeping-a lot!

We returned home at about 3 in the afternoon. When we opened the garage door, First Born was sitting on the top step that leads into the house. "I've been locked out since 10 O'clock this morning!"

I said, "I don't have a key." Turning to steadfast husband, "Do you have a key?"

"No, I have never had a key."

Yikes, (did I mention, we didn't make a restroom stop on the way home, "because we're almost home, you can hold it"?)

An urgency washed over the crowd.

First Born informed us that he had checked every window and door and they were all locked (he must have done this between snacks- judging from the wrappers littering the floor, he clearly passed much of the time eating.) So, while Steadfast Husband went around checking all the windows and doors, I went through door by door and window by window asking if he had checked them, "What about my room, did you check the one in my room? My bathroom?" and on it went.
By the way, children seem to find this questioning terribly annoying.

Halfway through my interrogation, I noticed that First Born was in his boxers! Oh the luck! Could this get any better? Truly, I imagined myself telling the story and saying, "too bad he wasn't in his underwear." But he was!

It turns out he was going to grab something from the garage pantry for breakfast and evidently when he is the only one home, he doesn't feel the need to cover up his skivvies-nor does he wear shoes or carry his phone!

As I was relishing in the good fortune of these newly realized details, it dawned on me that we were still locked out and I began to calculate the price of a locksmith verses the cost of replacing a window.

Steadfast Husband confirmed that everything was in fact locked-up tight (which made First Born roll his eyes) and began to remove the door frame.  When he was about halfway through, we heard a faint, "Stop... I'm in... I'm in the house!" thump, thump, thump. nothing.

So we did what any reasonable folks would do- we started pounding on the door, yelling, "Let us in! Let us in!" Ta-da! Youngest Son flung open the door!

It turns out that Youngest Son was able to crawl through the firewood doors to get into the house! yippee! Let the heroic rumpus commence!

 The tag: (the part of the show that comes after the final commercial break)
Close-up of First Born's furrowing brow, he can't decide if he is happy to finally be back in the house or totally annoyed that his little brother was able to get into the house in little more than 1/100 of the time he had been trying to get in!  He cracks a smile. Fade to black.

Girls Night Out-Brady Style-ish!

The other night I went out with some girlfriends for drinks and a movie. We were planning on seeing"Magic Mike"-which was so exciting, because I didn't even know there was a movie about the Houdini-like prowess of one Mr. Mike Brady! But, as it turns out, the movie wasn't about Mike Brady, but some other guy named Mike (sad face) and an entirely different type of magic. I must admit, I am just judging the movie by its poster; the movie was completely sold out and we ended up going to dinner instead.

It turns out none of my friends had read my Summer of Living Brady-fully blog yet-which explains why they seemed perplexed when I uttered "far out" "outta sight" and "that sounds groovy" (clearly, I need to expand my Brady lingo).

It also explains why when I made a rude comment (okay, really funny joke) that it was a good thing Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston never had children because their faces are so angular, their babies would have stop sign-shaped heads-no one said "that isn't very Carol Brady-ish of you." Instead, they commented on the pain of birthing a baby with stop sign-shaped head (or a baby with a sign-shaped head of any kind!).

As a nod to Carol Brady, I didn't order champagne (it has a terrible effect on the Brady Matriarch-it makes her dizzy and/or the bubbles make her sneeze). I ordered a beer, although I don't really know if Ma Brady drank beer either. According to the waitress, the type of beer I ordered was supposed to taste like cider-that seemed a little more Brady-friendly! In reality it just tasted like icky beer.

So my night out with my girlfriends, in the spirit of Carol Brady was kind of exhausting and not very successful. Next time, I may just borrow a line from Marcia and tell them, "Something suddenly came up," and leave Carol at home!

Meanwhile, my 2 middle moppets were arguing over a board game the other day and Youngest Son looked up from his book, shrugged and said, "they should just take turns," then continued reading. (It was like a line taken directly from Sherwood Schwartz himself!)
I said, "That idea is far out!" He looked up again, recognition washing over his face and started giggling! I love when my children get me!

I'm so excited, our Brady Bunch project for this weekend is one of the following:
-make a teeter-totter so we can have a teetor-totter record setting contest
-make a dunk tank (which will not be for the school carnival, but for our own personal enjoyment!)
Far out!

porkchops and applesauce, that's swell!

I finally told the moppets the plan for the Sammons Family Summer Fun! First, I had them guess what it was-because I knew no one would guess, and that always makes guessing games way more fun, plus it makes for a more dramatic reveal!  

So without further ado, we are living the summer like the Brady family. Not football quarterback and super model style, but late 60's, early 70's sitcom, The Brady Bunch-style! Yippeeeeeee!

I must confess that I am way more excited about this than anyone else in the "bunch"-although Baby Girl jumped on board quickly and started saying everything twice, once normally and the 2nd time with a lisp-a la' Cindy Brady!

The rest of the moppets expressed 5 emotional stages that would make Elizabeth Kubler-Ross proud:

            denial- "There is absolutely no way I am doing this,"
            confusion-"Okay, does this mean we are going to Hawaii?"
            pride- "Oh my gosh, Mom, that is totally cheesey,"
            bargaining- okay, well this is actually how I got everyone to reach acceptance!
            acceptance-see above!

So how did I really get my fabulous family to agree to this experiment? Well, first I explained to them it would be outta sight to build our own dunk tank, enjoy sack races and square dancing, try to break the longest teeter-tottering record, build a house of cards, make our own pilgrim movie, go to King's Island amusement park in Cincinatti and much, much more. I also promised them that if everyone went along, I would get my hair cut Carol Brady-style at the end of the summer! That pretty much sealed the deal! (Although they are starting to realize that they will actually have to be seen with me!)

After about an hour of rolling this plan around in his head, youngest son came to me and said, "Oh, no! Are we going to have to eat meatloaf? I don't think I can do that." And Oldest Daughter kept trying to put SPAM^® into the shopping cart at the grocery store! (I just can't go there!)

The biggest mental hitch in the giddy-up for everyone, is that we don't have an Alice. (Really, isn't that the biggest challenge for all Moms?) But, we just don't and I don't think that will change any time soon! So we must soldier on!

And although we are causing our dogs utter confusion at suddenly being expected to respond to the name "Tiger", the human members of our house are settling into the idea.

So as a way to kick-off our Brady-ful summer and get everyone in the Brady spirit, we are having Porkchops and Applesauce for dinner-and you know what? That's swell!

School's Out!

Yesterday was the moppets' last day of school! Yay! I love summer vacation-no schedule to follow, no homework, no bedtime battles-well, less bedtime battles! When middle son walked through the door after school, the first thing he said was, "What's the first event for the Summer Games?" I think I heard a choir of angels sing! I was so thrilled that last summer's fun was "sticky" enough to create memories, and enjoyable enough to warrant the desire to do it again this summer! It's especially good news since I've already been planning the summer fun that we will experience (endure) this summer! (And by "planning", I mean I've had an idea and am planning to figure out all the details very soon!)

I haven't told my family my big summer idea yet, and have decided to wait until after Oldest Daughter's high school graduation party (Sunday) to tell them! We have been swamped with the end of the school year festivities and in true Sammons' Family fashion, I am dealing with everything as it come-and not a minute before! But I am really excited and can't wait to get started! Be sure to stay tuned.....