I woke up this morning. Very early. Too early. I went back to sleep. Eventually, a noise from BigBrother’s room woke me up. I rolled over quickly and looked at the clock. It read: 9:22, meaning that it was 9:12. Munchkin started school at 9:00. If I was to talk to her, I had to call before 8:30. I had failed. Again. I rolled back over, buried my face in a pillow and thought about my failure. Four minutes later, I noticed that the room didn’t seem the right shade of brightness for 9:12. I rolled back over. This time the clock read 8:26, meaning it was 8:16. I need to remember to put my glasses on when I look at the alarm clock.
I got up, found my cell phone and called. D answered and asked Munchkin if she wanted to talk to me. She did. She told me that she was wearing pink and that her backpack had Hello Kitty on it. She told me she was excited. I said that I was excited for her and very proud. I said that I loved her. She told me that she loved me, too. I held back the tears until I finished up the conversation with D. Then I wept into my coffee (already made by my Husband) and blackberry jam toast (craving as of right now).
I busied myself with work and discussions with BigBrother. Then I showered. Not alone, of course, because if Mommy’s in the shower, well, BigBrother has to be in there, too! I got ready. I left for the post office and the library. And I drove fast. With the windows down. It was just barely 70 degrees at that point and, oh, it felt heavenly. The radio was up though I don’t recall what was playing. I just let my foot hit the gas and away I went. Sometimes it’s nice to own a Mustang.
Upon returning home, I spent some time playing with BigBrother. And then we ate lunch. And then he went down for his nap. And then I went outside to cry for a little bit. It’s strange. To live your life in your normal, everyday function, all the while deeply aware that your child is hitting this huge milestone. There’s no pomp and circumstance over here today. It’s business as usual. It’s strange to be torn in two directions. My heart can simultaneously be with the Munchkin as she starts school. And still here with my Son as he runs around the living room with the mixer beater saying, “Beater! Beater!” (Toys are beneath this child. He’s going to be a chef.) All the while, it makes me more and more aware that a mother’s heart knows no limits to its capacity to love. My mind, however, gets jumbled and wires get criss-crossed.)
I’m wearing the necklace, as you can see. I wore it yesterday as well. I’ll probably wear it for awhile. Last night, BigBrother sat on my lap as we sang songs before bed time. He pointed to the necklace and asked “Wassat?” I said, “A Heart.” He repeated the word. I said it was a necklace. He repeated heart. I said it was a special symbol between Munchkin and Mommy. He pointed at the wall and said, “NONNA!” We got her picture off of the end table and talked about her for awhile and how she was going to school. Eventually this turned into a discussion about school buses and he was off to play. My heart melted. My son knows his sister. He says the word sister. He loves his sister.
I’m sad today. But, with all the little things between last night and this morning, my heart is just very full. Not as empty as I had expected. Oh, that’s not to say that I am still not filled with a longing to be with her today; I am. But, the little things. They add up, don’t they?
