It's a terrible, horrible, awful, no good, very bad day and it's only nine in the morning. Daniel, our twenty-two year old, and his girlfriend Annie, have been visiting from Boston, and are flying home today. We've had a wonderful visit, two parties, and last night, a trip to the Boardwalk. We're happy and full, but tired, not on our usual rhythms. This morning it was hard for me to get up, and getting Justin and Emily up for school was next to impossible. Joan started a fight with me this morning as I was hustling around trying to get clothes and breakfast together, and by the time I had the kids at the table eating, forty-five minutes late, I was anxious and wound up, hurrying them along with no grace.
      Once in the car, the decision has to be made: who is going to be dropped off first? Justin wants to go to Emily's school first, but he's already half an hour late himself. But it's summer and I don't care. I tell Justin he can make the decision.
      We sit in our driveway while he ruminates, "It's okay to be late, but I don't want to be too late."
      "If we leave right now, you'll be a little late. And if we go to Emily's school first, you'll be really late. What do you think?"
      He doesn't say anything. I tell him, "I'm going to warm up the car while you decide."
      A minute goes by. Nothing. "Justin, I'm going to start driving now."
      I drive to the intersection where the choice has to be made. If I turn right, we go to his school. If I turn left, we go to hers. "Well, Justin?" I ask, "What's it going to be?"
      He doesn't answer. I sit for another thirty seconds. A cop cruises by, looking at me quizzically. I say to Justin, "I'm going to have to make the decision now."
      No response. I turn right. We drive a couple of blocks. Then Justin starts shrieking, "It's not fair. I wanted to go to Emily's school first!"
      I'm in heavy traffic, and I'm not turning around. I'm not backing down either. I was trying to be nice, but now I'm pissed. I say, "Justin, I gave you a chance to make the decision and you didn't make one. So I decided. We're going to your school first."
      "It's not fair! You didn't tell me I had to make the decision before we got to the intersection."
      "No I didn't. But I couldn't wait any longer for you to make the decision. I need to work today. So now we're heading to your school."
      "NOOOO! I won't go." He slams his body back against the seat. I feel my whole body go rigid.
      We reach the freeway. His school is two exits to the south.
      "Justin, it's time to put your shoes on. We'll be there in five minutes."
      He throws his sneakers down and yells, "NO! I won't put them on!" He pauses, then: "It's not fair! You stupid butthead!"
      I decide it's time for a different approach: "You know Justin, if you go to school mad, you're not going to be able to think. Nobody can think clearly when they're upset. Is there anything we can do to help you get ready for school?"
      "NOOOOO! NOTHING will help!"
      "How about if I bring your Titanic book to school when I come pick you up and read you a chapter before we pick up Emily?"
      "Okay..." he says in a quavery voice. A truce.
      We pull into the parking lot. I help Justin with his shoes, lift Emily out of her carseat, and the three of us head toward his classroom.
      As we get closer, he whispers, "I don't want to go to school."
      I sigh. This is clearly one of those moments when I have to surrender my agenda. I ask the two of them to sit with me on a bench. I put one arm around each of them. "Justin," I ask, "Are you feeling sad that Daniel is leaving?"
      The answer is immediate, "Yes!"
      "Would you like to have a little more time with him?"
      "Yes!"
      "Well, if you want, we can forget about school today. We could drop Emily off and then I could take you home. You could help Daniel and Annie with their last-minute packing, and maybe you could ride along to the airport. But I don't know if there'll be room in the car. If there isn't, you'll have to find something quiet to do at home while I work. And I'm going to start working as soon as I get home. This isn't a morning I can spend with you. Do you understand?"
      "Yes."
      "Okay. Now close your eyes, and think about what you want to do."
      He closes his eyes, sits absolutely still. Half a minute goes by. Then he opens his eyes and says, "Go home."
      On the way to Emily's school, Justin softens. I say, "Justin, can I talk to you about making decisions?" He nods.
      "Sometimes when I can't make up my mind, like you couldn't this morning, I try on a decision."
      "What does that mean?"
      "Well, let's say I'm trying to decide between two different jobs. And there are good and bad things about each job. Sometimes I pretend I've made one of the decisions, and then see how I feel afterwards. If I feel good, then it's probably the right decision. But if I keep wishing I'd made the other decision, that means I probably made the wrong one. Does that make sense?
      "Yeah."
      "And you know what else, Justin? Sometimes, when I have a really tough decision to make, I sleep on it."
      Justin cracks up, a wild peal of laughter. "You sleep on it? Mama Vicky, that's silly!"
      "Well, I don't actually sleep on it. Not like a pillow! But I make a decision and then go to sleep for the night. Sometimes things just seem clearer in the morning. Going to sleep-and dreaming-help me figure out if I made the right decision. Does that make sense?"
      "Yeah."
      We pull into the parking lot of Emily's school. I start to open my door. Justin stops me and says, "I need to sit here and take a few deep breaths first."
      "Okay."
      I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, too. God knows, I need them.
      After two breaths, Emily pipes up from the back seat. In her little froggy voice, she asks, "Why are we just sitting here? Can't we go in to my new school?"
      "Justin's meditating," I tell her.
      "And I need it to be quiet," he demands, indignant.
      I wait another moment. He opens his eyes, looks right at me and says, "Mama, I apologize. I just didn't get enough sleep last night."
      "I didn't either, Justin. None of us did. I'm sorry too."
      We hug and I say, "It's been a crummy morning, hasn't it?"
      "Yes."
      "But it doesn't have to be a crummy day."
      He hugs me again and we walk Emily into her school.