Friday afternoon I took a little break at work to check the local news on the internet. On the front page was a story that read, “[School District where my kids go to school] student died.” WHAT?!?

You know me. I’m not exactly the calmest person when it comes to news like this. I tend to overreact. Freak out. Hyperventilate. [Drama Queen much? Me? Never.]

The story didn’t give a lot of details. Just that the district PR rep confirmed a student had died and he couldn’t give her name, her grade, or which school she attended. So basically a student died and you get no other information.

I immediately called Keaton. I knew he’d be in the middle of class and would be at risk to get his phone taken away from him. But it was either that or drive to his school, bawling my eyes out like a crazy person, running through the school hallways screaming “Keaton” like Stanley Kowalski yelled “Stella!”

He didn’t answer.

But he called me right back. “Mom, can I come get the keys, ’cause I think I’m going to leave school now.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Well did you hear what happened?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I saw that a student died. What happened?”

We still don’t know all the details. There have been so many rumors floating around. But a girl in Keaton’s sophomore class died unexpectedly in some kind of freak accident at her home before school on Friday. She was a beautiful, talented 16-year-old girl. She played volleyball, ran track, was a wresting cheerleader, and a junior dog handler. She lived with her parents. Had an older brother. And tons of friends. And now she’s gone.

Keaton and I talked about it Friday night. I wanted to make sure he knew he could talk to me about it. That it’s ok to cry, be upset, mad or scared…or a combination of them all. We talked about how everybody found out at school. How everybody is in total shock. How just about everybody was in tears all day long. How Keaton didn’t go to 8th period…his History class where Kaitlin sat right behind his friend Dylan. We talked about emotions. Our own mortality. And somehow I kept a stoic straight face when what I really wanted to do was grab Keaton, hold on to him and never let him go.

Ever since then I give him a big hug every time I pass him the hallway, or when he comes to the kitchen for food, or when he’s asking me to drive him somewhere. Sometimes I just burst in to this room to give him a big bear hug. He’s starting to get a little irritated by it. He keeps telling me, “Ok mom. That’s enough already.” But I can’t help it.

A 16-year-old is not supposed to die. Parents are not supposed to outlive their 16-year-old daughter. Older brothers aren’t supposed to become only children. Fifteen and Sixteen year olds aren’t supposed to lose a classmate and friend. It’s just not right. It’s just not natural. It’s heart breaking.

On the way to youth group last night Keaton told me he was going to the funeral on Wednesday. The funeral will be in the concert hall at the school and the high school is letting out early so students and teachers can attend. Bringing it up again, I couldn’t keep it in. I got teary-eyed as I said, “I can’t even imagine what her parents are going through. I would be devastated if anything ever happened to you,” I sobbed.

Hug your kids. Hold them tight. Tell them you love them.

Today was Black Friday. I’ve already talked about how I feel about Black Friday. I think those of you who get up earlier to save a few dollars on toys and electronics and appliances are insane in the membrane.

This year I learned that some places opened at 12:01am (Toys R Ss and the outlet mall I’m snarling at you) so people could shop there first. Then, when they were done there, they could head over to the department stores that opened at 4am. Great! ‘Cause we really need more deranged, even more sleep-deprived people battling over the last Nintendo DS at 4am.

That’s just crazy people. There should be absolutely no shopping at 4am. Ever. Unless it’s for sex toys. On the internet. When you are suffering from insomnia. I’m just sayin’.

Last night we let Keaton spend the night at a friend’s house. A friend who lives right across the street from Wal-Mart, down the road from Target, and a hop, skip and jump from Toys R Us. Around 12:30am Keaton left me a text message to call him right away. I had already put my phone away for the night so I didn’t see his texts until this morning afternoon (cause I celebrate Black Friday by sleeping ’til noon). Apparently he wanted me to transfer the money I owe him for babysitting in to his saving account.

Because he was out shopping in the middle of the night.

Lunatic. I really thought I had taught him better than that.

He and his friends battled their way through Toys R us for a while. But Toys R Us was all out of the iPod Touch. So they headed over to Target and Wal-Mart to stand in line. Keaton was 4th in line at Target. With no money.

Why?!? I have no idea. To be young. And foolish. I guess.

After a couple hours, around 3am, he was starting to get tired. And bored. And cold. So he offered up his spot in line. For $10.

$10?!? I KNOW I taught him better than that. Fourth place in line is at least worth $50. Clearly there are so many things I have left to teach him.

A couple weeks ago I sent Keaton and Justis a message on Facebook (’cause the way to a teenagers heart it through social media, duh!). I asked them to please send me their Christmas wishlist. But apparently deciding what you want for Christmas is long, thought provoking process because I have yet to get a response. I’m not fully understanding the hesitation. I mean, I’m 35 and I have a wish list a mile long of everything from books to a new DSLR. So this “let me think about what I want” thing has me totally baffled.

Today Justis called. I used it as an opportunity to pounce on him about his wish list. “Dude? You haven’t responded. What do you want?”

I was expecting him to ask for some really expensive gadgets like in previous years. Maybe an iPod Touch. Or a new laptop. But instead he got a little excited and said…

“Oh I really need socks.”

I was speechless. Never in a million years did I expect my 17-year-old to ask for socks. For Christmas. And be almost giddy about it.

“Um. What?!? Socks?” I asked.

“Yeah, socks. And money.”

“Really?!? Just socks? You can’t think of anything else?”

“No. Really just socks and money. Oh and maybe an Xbox 360.”

And there it was. Finally. He’s not getting an Xbox 360, but at least he asked. I was starting to worry he’d been taken over by aliens or something.

So tomorrow? Over my lunch break? I’ll be shopping for socks.

Keaton has long curly* hair. I think he looks so cute with short hair like his dad. He loves it long*. I decided a long time ago it wasn’t a battle I wanted to have so I just let him style his hair however he wants to.

He likes his hair straight, but he got my very thick and very coarse and very curly hair. We’ve tried to straightening iron. We’ve tried chemical straightener. It just never gets completely straight. So instead he just has these big curly Qs in his eyes.

I’ve been begging him to let me cut his hair for weeks. Just a little trim. Never mind the fact that I’ve never actually cut anyone’s hair before. Never mind the fact that even when I use the clippers I can still completely screw up a buzz cut. After the success (?) of my hair thinning earlier in the week I thought I was this superstar beautician.

So last night Keaton [foolishly] let me cut his hair.

I started with the bangs. [Are you supposed to start with bangs?] It looked so cute. It has this long curly hair on the sides. And short, straight bangs. He looked like Shirley Temple. It was quite a look. For a 15-year-old boy.

Then I tackled the top and sides. After the first several cuts I realized I might be in a little over my head. Ok, way over my head. But I couldn’t just leave it with big chunks of hair cut off.

After 45 minutes I was ready to give up. But Keaton’s hair looked a little ridiculous. It was a little bit mullet. And Keaton was a little bit not impressed. I mean if not impressed meant pissed to the verge of tears. He was threatening to not go to school the next day until I took him to Sports Clip to have a professional fix it.

So, like a good mom, I put my exhaustion aside to try to finish it up. I went back to work on it. I cut off the mullet and trimmed up the back. And I think it turned out pretty good. It’s too short for Keaton’s tastes. But not short enough for my tastes. And I think his bangs look a little like a bowl cut. But all in all it’s not too bad for my very first hair cut.

However I think we’ll just leave it to the professionals from this point forward.

*I accidentally typed “Keaton has long girly hair.” And I typed “He loves it wrong.” Freudian slip much?