Beech Tree News Network

When my daughter, Natalie, went back to school, she started looking for someone to keep her daughter, Sabria, a couple of days a week.  Natalie was like I was when she and Nikki were little and I started back to school, worried to death about finding someone she could trust.
    “What you need is a Mama Carolyn,” I told Nat.
    “I know,” Natalie said, “But there aren’t any more.”
    She was right, of course.  After God made Mama Carolyn, he broke the mold.  Mama Carolyn is Carolyn Flener, and she kept my kids when I went back to school to finish a degree I started years before.  I can’t remember who recommended her, but I will be eternally grateful for all the peace of mind that one recommendation meant for me.
    Mama Carolyn lived near the elementary and middle schools which made it convenient for my kids to walk to her house after the school day was over.  I would pick them up there after I got out of class.  The litmus test of a good sitter is that your kids cry when you pick them up from the sitter’s as opposed to when you drop them off.  My kids were rarely ready to leave Mama Carolyn’s when I came by to pick them up.
    I can’t remember exactly how many kids she kept at the time, but even though they varied in age, they all seemed to get along.  There was never a lot of contention between any of the kids in the group.  I always attributed that to the love and kindness that Mama Carolyn showed each of them.  And it wasn’t just the kids, she gave special attention to.  There were times when I would be at the end of my rope by the time I arrived at her house, and she was always willing to offer me encouragement.
    When Nikki was ready to start to Kindergarten, Mama Carolyn was right there to give us advice to make the transition as smooth as possible for the both of us.  Nikki and I were, and still are, people who like to dress comfortably.  We’re usually in jeans and tee shirts.  At the time she was starting to kindergarten, parents were required to take their children to a registration day at the elementary school.  Mama Carolyn suggested that we dress nicely for the occasion in order to make a good first impression.  I tended to pay attention to what she had to say.
    On the day of the registration, I got us up early, and dressed myself in a navy blue linen dress, white hose and navy and white shoes.  I put Nikki in a ruffled, lavender dress, ruffled white socks, and black patent shoes.  You will need to understand Nikki’s history with dresses in order to understand what happened at the registration.  Nikki detested dresses to the point that I had to make her a dress out of material covered in orca whales in order to get her dressed for church each Sunday morning without an ensuing war.
    Before Nikki and I went to the school that morning, we stopped by to see Mama Carolyn.  She was so pleased and told us how pretty the two of us looked.  The registration was taking place in the gym, and when Nikki and I arrived, there was already a line.  We took our places and waited for our turn.  The wait turned into thirty then forty-five minutes, ten minutes longer than Nikki’s ruffled dress-wearing tolerance.  We were a mother and son away from the registration table when, without warning, Nikki threw herself onto the floor and began crying, “I don’t wike it!  I don’t wike it!”  (She was still having difficulty with the letter “L” at the time.)
    I knew of nothing else to do but to join her on the floor—in my linen dress and white hose—scoop her up in my arms, dust her off and stand her aright.  We proceeded as if writhing on the gym floor were the usual course of action at a kindergarten registration.
    When we finished up at the school, we went back to Mama Carolyn’s.  I related the whole incident to her, and we had a good laugh over it.
    “Well, you both looked so pretty, that’s probably all they’ll remember,” she said.
    It’s like I told Natalie, God broke the mold after he made Mama Carolyn.