Last week was somewhat of a low for me. After a most difficult week (which is a post for another time), I told Micah that what I really needed was some good news. Just something unequivocally awesome. That’s all I wanted.
No biggie, right?
Well, it just so happened that on Friday afternoon as I was putting Elsa down for her nap, I got an e-mail from the Department of Education letting us know they had some news for us. My heart skipped a beat (or three) and I tried not to shake as I put sleeping Elsa in her crib and went to find Micah. He was watching the boys jump on the trampoline, so I tried to keep it cool as I handed him my phone and told him I needed moral support. This was the moment we’d been waiting months for and I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it. Chances are it was nothing exciting. In fact, chances are, it’s going to be soul-crushingly disappointing.
We fumbled around trying to get my username and password correct so we could access the important document, and when we finally got everything right, I let Micah take over. Instead of reading the decision itself, I wanted to read Micah’s face before I found out just exactly how far into the depths of despair I should fall.
But Micah’s expression was not what I expected. It was surprise, disblief. “Wait,” he said. He needed to read it again. And then, “He got into NEST.”
I, of course, grabbed the phone and looked for myself. Sure enough. Our top choice. The school we’d dreamed of. The school we never thought we had a chance at. The school we only listed first because it was absolutely ludicrous to think that he’d actually get in.
“Is that good enough news for you?” Micah said as he put his arm around me. I cried as we told Simon the good news: “You just got into a really good school.”
“Was it your first choice?” he asked.
“Yeah, it was.”
And then we made plans for a party. Because this sure as heck deserves a celebration. Our long school nightmare is over.
(At least until it’s Oliver’s turn to take the G&T test, 6 months from now . . . .)