It's been a while. I've missed writing my posts. Although I didn't know I missed it. In my absence I have written some poetry and the beginning of two books. With my track record I think they should probably just be short stories though or I may never finish them. As usual for a mom, most of my hobbies or wants are pushed to the side. There are children and a husband with their own wants and needs.
Speaking of children, mine are in school. ALL OF THEM! It's a milestone I never thought we'd get to. From 8:30 to 12:30 there is not a child in sight. No pitter patter of feet. No screaming, crying, laughing, talking, or incessant question asking. (but why???) For four hours a day I am alone. I am excited for it, believe me, I needed this. I just can't shake this feeling of sadness. The house is silent and empty. As I sit here typing the only noise I hear is the click of my keyboard. Every letter is a declaration of freedom, but also something else. I am free, but like a Stockholm syndrome suffer I miss my prison. I spend my new free time counting the minutes till they come home.
At 12:30 when I pick up Alijah I am already weary from the knowledge of what his coming home brings, but also revived. How I missed his sweet face! As we drive home he chirps on about his day. The car center and broken monster truck. How he wrote his name all by himself. The games they played while outside. And like everyday he ends his narration with "You'll always come back for me won't you mommy?" And just like everyday I answer through a tight throat "I always come back for my chicken."
This exchange actually started when he was much younger and would fall apart when I left him even for a minute. "Mommy will be right back baby promise." "See, I always come back for my chicken!" As he has gotten older I haven't really had to say it. Every once and a while if he had a bad day while I was gone he'd cling to me and say it. Like his security blanket when he needed to feel better. I'll always come back and he is okay.
Now he needs a daily reminder that he won't be abandoned at the scary school. That his life will return to normal. He spends his day waiting for me to come pick him up and I spend my day waiting to go get him. For now our hearts and minds are on the same page. Soon though he'll be too old for such things. Like his brother and sister he'll move farther away from me more into himself. Into his own friends and hobbies. Eventually all my children will be grown up and gone. Living their lives and coming to visit when they can. This thought kills me. As much as I want them to become successful adults, part of me wishes they could stay young forever. They are my life, what will I do without them?
I realize the real question isn't if I'll always come back for you my babies. It's if you'll always come back for me...
