Whenever I’m out walking or biking with my kids and they start to dilly-dally — you know, stopping to fiddle with the bell on their bike when we have to be at school in five minutes or standing still to tell a story when they can just as easily tell the story while walking, I always tell them, “Forward motion, guys, forward motion.” Always moving, getting to some destination.

And so that is what we’re doing … still moving forward, in ways both meaningful and mundane.  Remember my May Madness post?  Well, none of those tasks on my to do list disappeared just because Austin might have cancer. Oh, actually, one of them disappeared: the Rainbow event on May 25 at which we were to be the honored family. There is simply nothing I can stand up and say to those people at this moment that wouldn’t be completely depressing. So, we’ve backed out of that one.

But everything else is still on. The Family Connections Carnival took place last Saturday and we reached our budgeted goal, even surpassed it by a small amount. Cullen Sweeney’s fundraiser is still taking place at our house this Sunday and you’re all still invited. And, of course, The Young Authors Conference at Fairfax is in full swing, although I have cut down a bit on my daily classroom appearances.  I’ve actually really enjoyed the time I’ve spent with the kids, they are so sweet and so eager that they sweep me up in their childlike creativity. Coordinating the volunteers with the constantly changing schedules of twenty-seven very busy teachers is rather more difficult, but it’s happening.  The students will finish their drafts by Monday and then starts the next big phase: typing.  I’ve managed to finish a few of the early ones here at home, but am worried when Braedan tells me that his story is 24 pages long! Uuuuummmm, what’s wrong with eight paragraphs?

Some people become paralyzed with fear or uncertainty in these situations, others spring into action. We’re springers. It’s just how we deal. Always moving forward.