On Friday afternoon I sat down to write this post, but I couldn’t come up with the right words. I tried again yesterday and here I am again, on Sunday evening, and I am still at a complete loss. It is, quite simply, too painful to trivialize with my voice.

So it has come to this. At a time when there is nothing I can say, I will simply state the facts.

* On February 17, 2004, my niece, Madison, died just shy of her first birthday. My son was too young to comprehend her passing. My daughter was five years old and understood all too well that her cousin was gone.

* On March 1, 2004, a schoolmate of my daughter was run over in our preschool parking lot. Michael was three years old. Telling my daughter that he had been killed in an accident was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

* On September 1, 2007, one of my son’s preschool classmates passed away. John was five, as was my son. My son was far too young to say goodbye to a friend and his friend was far too young to die.

* On October 15, 2009, a little girl who attended school with my daughter and whose family goes to our church lost her battle with Fanconi Anemia. Samantha was 11.

* And last week we learned that a nine year old at the school has an inoperable brain tumor and isn’t expected to live more than a year. A girl who used to play on my daughter’s soccer team and who, until last week, seemed perfectly fine.

Another child. I can not bear it.

I have not told my children yet. My 10 year old daughter and my seven year old son shouldn’t have to deal with losing their friends. Not so many of them. Not in the midst of childhood which is supposed to be carefree.

Not again.

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In the school kitchen where I work, things get hot. Not hot like a humid day in Florida, but hot like a humid day on the face of the sun.

At any given moment we could have our ancient oven running, along with the convection oven and three warmers. Add in the steam from the dishwashing sinks and you have yourself your very own steam room. You know, kind of like a spa. Yesterday, I gave myself a green bean facial.

The school doesn’t have central air, so to cool the area we use a window air conditioner. That’s right. A window air conditioner. If you stand in one particular spot by the trash can, you can almost feel a small breeze. Almost.

But, the heat doesn’t cause me to have a bad attitude. Quite the contrary. Because yesterday I told the ladies I work with that if I ever hit the lottery, I’ll totally buy them a new window unit.

I’m generous like that.

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There are a lot of things you give up when you have children. You simply have to learn to let some things go. Like a good night’s sleep, disposable income and liquid assets.

You also have to accept the muddy floors, juice stained school uniforms and beds that don’t make themselves.

You have to understand that the bathmat will get soaked, that little children like to smudge up the television, the computer monitor and the car windows, and even though a backpack has come home without the slightest remnant of a snack for over a month, it doesn’t mean you won’t look in there one day and suddenly find a small container full of moldy strawberries. Hypothetically.

However, since I started my new job I’ve found it really hard to let those things go ignored because I just don’t have the time to deal with them. It’s one thing to see a load of laundry sitting on the floor in the basement and think, “I’ll get to that later” and it’s something else entirely to actually get it done.

It didn’t used to bother me if I saw a pair of socks on the living room floor or dishes in the sink, because I knew I would have time to take care of it. Now, I simply don’t get that chance. It’s frustrating and I have been letting it drive me crazy.

Yesterday, in the midst of cleaning the house, my daughter asked me to stop and listen to her play a song on her electric piano. As I sat on the edge of her bed and listened to her play Pachelbel Canon, I realized that I really need to stop worrying about whether the floors need swept or if the blinds are dirty.

Because as she played that beautiful music all I could think about was how dusty her keyboard was.

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