Disappointment

Max and I don't seem to be very lucky with lotteries these days.

Me, I play the powerball every Wednesday and Saturday.  Its my dollar for hope program.  Funny, I never have won a dime--not even a $1 for getting the powerball right.  Its just how it goes.  I keep playing, just in case.  I don't expect to win, but how does the jingle go--You got to be in it to win it?  And I have to admit, when the numbers come in I feel a wave of momentary disappointment wash over me like a little light breeze before I feel thrilled for the winners.  (and I DO always feel thrilled for the winners)

Today we learned that Max lost the lottery that would determine who would get into the Spanish immersion elementary school.  Not getting into the Spanish program is not that big a deal but this is the school that ALL of his neighborhood and preschool best buds will go to (those who aren't going to Catholic school that is).  Instead of climbing on the shiny yellow bus with all his friends, he instead will go to the neighborhood school where he knows noone.  Disappointment hangs over our house like a thundercloud.

Its one of those really intense lotteries--10 people entering for each spot etc. but we must have a lucky group of friends.  And while we both knew the odds were really against us, we had been staking our hopes on it.  (If everyone you knew had won the powerball wouldn't you have bet a $100!) This is a child who has so much transition and disappointment in his young life I was really hoping that kindergarten could be a bit easier for him--that he would be able to go to a school where he knew all the big kids, and plenty of the little ones too.  Where his friends could tell him all about the teachers, the festivals, where it would  feel so familiar--so much like home.  All he knows about elementary school he knows from these kids and he had really been counting (perhaps too much) on learning the ropes directly from them.  We had wished upon a star for it.

I too, was hoping that I wouldn't have to start over again either.  New parents, new community, new rules and noone to show me the ropes.  How much easier it would have been just to get the skinny on all things elementary school from my own precious community.  Instead both Max and I will go at it alone.  The pouty me wants to add for very dramatic emphasis...AGAIN.

Not getting into the school feels a little too familiar--being on the outside looking in.  So many in our group have so much that we don't--happy marriages/dads that are around, financial security, immediate family in the area to help out when in a bind--and now they are together at school while we sit on the outside again, just Max and me.  I haven't been jealous at all of any of my community and the abundance of gifts they have until just this moment.  And now I practically poisonous with all the envy I am spitting.

I am sure the Universe has some greater and different plan for us--some lessons we will learn--some new and amazing experiences etc.  I know all too well that normally when doors are closed, windows do tend to open---blah blah blah.  I can't listen to that anymore than I can listen to a friend tell me that Max will be OK--it will just be hard the first few weeks etc etc.  I can't  bear to watch this precious little boy who loves being part of a tribe as much as I feel lonely and left out again for even more more minute.    I can't stand to ask him buck up one more time.  Not now.

It is quite true as friends have pointed out that we might be on the waiting list, that a spot might open up, that perhaps I could write the principal and beg him to take pity on us.  Tomorrow all of that will make a lot of sense and we will move from there into action or acceptance.  Tomorrow I am sure the jealousy will fade too, and I will be thrilled that they have what they do and I will be grateful for all we have--for we truly do dwell in abundance.  I know it intellectually.

But tonight we sit again on the outside, our noses pressed to the glass wishing we had something different.  Disappointed with how it all turned out.