October...so many changes in the air!

It is hard to believe that we are mid-October already--time has absolutely flown by, like a whirlwind, right past me! It's no wonder I feel completely exhausted right now.  Balancing my return to teaching with my "mom-responsibilities" seems more challenging this time around--as if I am doing it all on a tightwire.  So afraid that some things are falling to the wayside--it's a tough act.

Recently, I received one of those emails that gets circulated around one too many times...yet this one came at such an opportune time, I felt I wanted to share it. I am not the author. I do not know the original author. That said, I give credit to whomever came up with this timely response to dealing with sons in high school (and even junior high) when it comes to their own balancing act of academics, sports, and hormones...
Enjoy!


A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to 'Dad.'


With the worst premonition he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.


Dear Dad:
It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mum and you.
I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it' s not only the passion, ...Dad, she's pregnant.


Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a caravan in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children. Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone. We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy.


In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better.
She deserves it.


Don't worry Dad. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.


Love, Your Son John




PS. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tommy's house.
I Just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a Report card.
It's in my desk drawer.
I love you.
Call me when it's safe to come home.