Cygnes Reflechis en Elephants
Hot Wheelz is flying in for his birthday. He has been living in Utah for four years now, but this is still his home. His old room has been transformed into the office, but the closet still holds a few mementos. His Salvador Dali print of swans on a lake of unexpected reflections still hangs on the wall over the computer desk. It reminds me his teenage years when I thought I was losing my mind. I survived. The vote on my sanity is still out.
I never tire of knowing my children, although fully grown, are sleeping a few doors down the hall. Last month it was Coco, last week it was Cheezy, and this week Hot Wheelz. The house is alive once again, albeit a short time. There are clean sheets on the guest bed, boxes of Life cereal in the cupboard, ice cream in the freezer, and a Costco supply of toilet paper on hand. I love every moment of preparing for their visits. I want them to know how very special they are.
Memories of rocking a squawking Hot Wheelz in my arms come to mind. Was I a failure at being a mom as I heard the early morning trash truck come by? I was so tempted to sneak this colicky infant into one of the containers. Instead I opted for drives in the middle of the night to put him to sleep to the rhythm of the road. I’d peeked through a two-way glass mirror to ensure an extremely shy three-year-old fit in in nursery school. And I remember sitting outside a bedroom door at night, when he was a teen, and I had to secure the perimeter.
Just when you think you and your kid are totally independent, maybe even friends, this “it” (I think I saw a glimpse of “it” in a scary movie Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark preview this weekend and, yes, I did scream – not as loudly as I do sometimes, but loud enough that Couponman changed seats) grabs you around the middle and chokes every bit of air out of your body. Just like “it” did during childbirth and many times thereafter. Then you catch your breath and without any warning, every once in a while, “it” will suck it right out of you again.
But now for a few days again, you are MOM again.
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Wow, what a great capture of how we moms feel when our babies are with us again, however, short a time.
Have fun Mom! And really? Is the ice cream just for him???
Your writing always resonates with me. I find myself leaving with a heavy sigh nearly every time, thankful someone else put into words so much that I feel. This, especially, tonight: “I never tire of knowing my children, although fully grown, are sleeping a few doors down the hall.” I just wish my girls slept down the hall more often. It’s been a while.
One of my friends almost lost it because her grown son was coming for a visit, and she couldn’t find his favorite cereal. The things we do for our kids!
Now that’s funny! And sadly true.