Southern gothic.

I've had a Steel Magnolias kind of week.

On Tuesday, I thanked the fabulous parent and teacher volunteers at Peachtree Charter Middle School during a "transition" party at Dunwoody North Driving Club AND sent the school's charter petition to the staff for distribution to the County and State for approval.  I ended the evening with a deep sense of relief that this responsibility is now OVER.

On Thursday, I fell on a slippery slope covered in pine straw and busted my ankle. Thought it was broken. My friend Lisa took me to St. Joe's, xrays proved it was "just badly sprained," and kind Wayne brought me home. (T was in Baltimore.)

On Friday, I came down with a really bad cold.

On Saturday, Big A went to the prom. I barely focused long enough to see him looking amazing in his very ultra cool tuxedo. And I missed seeing his date in her gorgeous green dress and the parent gathering after the prom-goers departed in their stretch limo. (He had a very good time, the girls looked beautiful, and the threatening tornado watch stayed north of the city. Relief.)

On Sunday, my shingles came back with a vengeance. Little A's Odyssey of the Mind team had their first fundraiser, a carwash at Burger King. They raised $600+ for their Big Trip to World Finals. Big A had a work day for his Eagle Project here at the house - Scouts tested the handheld game systems to see if they worked and determine what accessories they needed.

Isn't it all fairly ridiculous? This trifecta of plagues, all visiting at the same time?

When I'm not completely exasperated with the pain and feeling out of sorts, I have to laugh. Because this is just like me. I can't just take a little break when things are too busy and stressful. Nope - I have to get completely incapacitated.

I've slept around the clock, kept my ankle elevated and on ice, taken my meds on schedule, eaten lightly when my stomach wasn't protesting, and stayed thoroughly hydrated. I've also watched a plethora of old movies, knitted a few gifts, and caught up on a tall stack of magazines. Four days of bedrest and I'm hobbling pretty well, the shingles have resided, and my cold is mellowing to the sniffle stage.

Okay, I get it. Just because "I'm The Mom" doesn't mean I'm really indispensable to the kids, the school, my job, my church, my parents, and the host of other people and institutions I like to believe count on me.  For the four days I've been out of synch, things have proceeded just fine without me.

It's humbling.

And freeing.

Do I have to wear this? Part 2.

My son asked a really great girl to the prom and she said yes! (Scene: cafeteria. He: "So, you want to go to the prom together?" She: "Sure.")  With our encouragement, he and his date have invited several other friends to share a limo (yes a limo is a luxury, but it's either that or parent drivers since the prom is in a less-than-stellar location for teen drivers). I've suggested they meet at one house so the parents can get photos, but beyond that I'm waiting to see what they come up with.

Then  my son realized that he'll have to wear a tuxedo.

"Aw, come on! Do I have to?"

Yep. Having also checked to see if the traditions have changed, I informed him that good manners, dancing, a tux, and a corsage were in order.

I'm mostly staying out of the way of the arrangements since the group is already talking nonstop about the prom, whether they'll have dinner together, when they'll arrive, etc. etc. But it's been illuminating to hear other parents talk about their teens' preparations and plans. From rentals of party buses and expensive meals at fine restaurants to the "anti prom" crowd hitting the Waffle House and keeping things simple, there's a whole range of expectations out there. Elaborate "asks" are a big deal at Dunwoody High School, including invitations broadcast over the school intercom or via the Media students' broadcast, on the baseball field's home plate, in serenades at the girl's house, and in floral deliveries.

My son's group appears to be on the low key side, thank goodness.

We'll hit the rental places this week to try on tuxes and choose the look he feels is appropriate. Nothing colorful - simple black and white is his preference.

The funniest part of this experience is balancing the "cool" factor of the transportation (an 8-passenger limo!) with parental controls. Fear not. The limo company is well versed in teens.

(COMPANY) DOES NOT ALLOW TEENAGERS TO:

• Haul over the maximum capacity in limousines and 2 passengers in sedans
• Smoke in the vehicles
• Drink alcoholic beverages of any type in its vehicles
• Bring alcoholic beverages of any type in its vehicles
• Take any type of illegal drugs, such as marijuana, while in its vehicles
• Have any intimate relations in its vehicles
• Hang any portion of their bodies out the windows in its vehicles
• Vandalize its vehicles in any manner
• Offer addition rides to passengers unrelated to the prom (including parents, friends, etc.)

Note: All cost for repairs or damages to Limousine vehicles resulting from the activity of teenagers, shall be borne by the parents, legal guardians or signer of this contract.

Note: In the event of any passenger in a (prom) group becomes intoxicated or under the influence of any alcoholic beverage, illegal drugs, substances, or violates any of the above activities, while at the facility outside/inside Limousine’s chauffeur to contact the passengers parents or legal guardian and notifying them that the prom charter is over as of the moment and all passengers are being returned to the first point of pick-up.

We showed our son the contract.  "As if I'd do any of that," he snorted. Sure, we said, but you need to make sure that everyone you invite to join your group has the same common sense. Because we're liable for everything that happens. "So you're saying you're trusting me to do the right thing."

Yes, we are, son.