It's that time of year again. No, I'm not talking about Spring. Nope, I don't mean Easter either. It's lottery time! School lottery, that is. And, I'm not very lucky, so this time of year sends me into a panic. Truly, luck and I are not well acquainted. Example: once, I won tickets on the radio to see the Cranberries (remember them) and then the concert was cancelled, true story. This time last year, I was nervous and anxious and, okay, let's be honest, freaking out, just a little bit.
Caleb, our 5 year-old and rising Kindergartener, currently attends a great school. He loves it. We love it. It's perfect. Really. And, in a perfect world, Isaac, the 3 year-old, would go there too, starting in September. He would wake up in the morning, gulp down something "nutritious" (like Froot Loops), get dressed, don his back-pack and follow his older brother into their great school. He'd go to his Pre-School class and come home every day exhausted and babbling about new friends and teachers and songs and stories. He would love it. We would love it.
It would be perfect. Really.
But, alas. There are too many kids for whom this school is perfect forcing them to hold a lottery for each precious slot. Last year, there were 11 spots and over 100 applicants. Thankfully, Caleb got lucky. We got lucky.
It was a miracle.
I believe in miracles. They happen in my life all the time. Caleb getting into this school was a big one. And we've had others, even bigger ones. Some we needed, some we didn't expect, some we couldn't imagine our lives without.
And now, we need another one.
Today I spent hours in the car driving from one end of the city to the other dropping off enrollment forms at schools we would prefer our boys didn't attend. Fine schools, most of them, but not perfect. But, if Isaac doesn't get into Caleb's school, we need a back-up plan. And, since I'd rather they didn't attend separate schools, we submitted applications for Caleb as well. It makes me sick to my stomach to think we'd have to pull Caleb out of his perfect school, that he loves. But. But, we have to be realistic. It's a lottery, someone has to get in, sure, but several someones won't and that could easily be Isaac.
It could easily be us.
The lottery isn't until next week, and I can't stop thinking about it. It's beyond my control, I know that, but still, I can't quiet the contingency plans running through my head. None of the contingency plans are appealing. Thinking about them doesn't make me feel better. The only thing that works is praying. And I am. We are. We need a miracle, and I'm not above begging for one. It's just one year. I know that. And it's just pre-school. I know that too. But, he's my baby. They're my babies, and this school will be perfect for that one year. And, in the grand scheme of things I know one year of school isn't that big of deal. In fact, it probably really doesn't matter at all. But, it matters to us right now.
Last year, everything worked out just fine and there is every reason to believe things will be fine this year, too. No matter what happens, things will be fine. But, I know prayers make a difference, especially when it comes to miracles. So, for the next week we'll be crossing fingers and toes and clutching rabbits feet and avoiding black cats and begging, praying for a miracle.