When I was in second grade I went to Brownie camp. As my mom offered a tearful goodbye, I bounced onto the big yellow bus without so much as a glance in her direction. I was going CAMPING with people who were named after a desert and she expected me to mourn her absence. Shyeah! Right!
I believe that, as she wiped the tear from her cheek, she cursed my name and wished for me a future daughter who showed complete indifference to my presence or lack thereof. Well, today I got mine.
It's Wednesday night as I type this and my weekend has already started. I'm on an airplane with two girlfriends on our way to the BlogHer Conference in Chicago. Although I'm really excited to get away for a few days, I'm already missing Dan and the kids. Okay. I was already missing them as I thought about leaving this morning. And last night...when I cried at the thought of being torn so cruelly from the nest.
I wanted to make my absence as bearable for the kids as I could. On the sofa table in the living room, I've placed large paper bags with gifts for each day I'll be gone. I made cookies to be eaten whenever the children became inconsolable.
"I will eat these cookies whenever I'm sad for you," Laylee said.
"Awwww...Baby. You can have one now just for saying that."
On the way to the airport, my stomach began to churn a little. These are my PEOPLE! How could I leave my people? Who would ignore them when they woke up in the morning? Who would toast the Eggos? I wasn't sure Dan could handle it on his own.
From the backseat, a small voice piped up, "Dad. I'm so excited for when we drop off Mom because then we can eat cookies and I get to go to Carson's birthday party."
Well, I thought, now that I know her true feelings, it will be easy to make a clean break at the airport.
"A-kiss-a me Momma," Magoo joined in from the back. "A-kiss-a me ouchy bum bum."
I can think of no other circumstance under which I would find it cute for someone to be telling me to kiss their rear end.
"Is it ouchy? Oh, I'll kiss it when we stop." He let out a little cry.
At least somebody needs me for something, even if it is just a little medicinal keister kissage. Well, Dan needs me too. And Laylee needs me but mostly only in the middle of the night when she has something really important to tell me...something so important that she must tell me and so big that if she doesn't tell me immediately, it will just fall out of her brain and be lost forever under her toddler bed.
As I walked away from the car where Magoo was screaming my name in a tone of absolute betrayal and Laylee was looking around the car hoping for the cookies to make their presence known, I patted my unopened love note from Dan and decided I had liked my life, Mom's curse and all. I'll most likely go back there in a few days, hopefully with my brain overflowing with adult conversation and my feet sore from the dancing and the impractical unbarf-proof shoes.