The stars aligned

I was in my usual rush to take Abby to school yesterday, with Timmy in tow. Timmy climbed up into the van and his car seat, and I went to follow him, when suddenly my cranium met the vanium in a most unhappy way. I saw stars.

I sat on the floor of the van, stunned from the pain at the top of my head and the base of my neck. As I was getting in the side door, I had misjudged and had hit my head on the top of the door opening, with the full force of my legs propelling me forward. Ouch.

Of course, I started to cry. It really hurt. Timmy kept saying, "Mommy you OK? Mommy you OK?" I couldn't even talk.

Mommy tears set Abby off. She ran up the driveway and into the garage, a safe place to hide from an uncontrollable and upsetting situation for her. Thank God she didn't run into the street.

After a few minutes, I assured Timmy I was all right, and set off for the garage. I had to coax, cajole, and finally threaten to physically carry Abby to the van (although in my dazed state, there was no way I could have done that.) She was upset all the way to school, but we got there.

And she had the best day at school she's had in a long time. She came home with a note that said she earned all her stars in her behavior management program -- a first, or at least the first in a long, long time.

Maybe a little emotional catharsis in the morning freed her to concentrate better all day. Maybe it had nothing to do with it. But it's not an experiment I wish to repeat.