I wasn't so sure about this mother's day thing on the weekend. I signed up for a very necessary course this weekend. It's a pre-requisite for my Instructor's Certificate.
It meant leaving Jethro in charge of his own two children for the weekend... On Ballet Recital weekend, no less. He's been pretty lucky when it comes to the running around of the kids. I've done most of it. I admit, I felt pretty nervous about leaving him to take care of the whole garment bag with the fancy costume in it, and the make up and slicked back hair, the remembering of the ballet slippers, getting to the theatre on time, and of course, where to stash Bucky, who, being a filthy little long haired 11 year old boy, has little desire to watch a bunch of girls run around in tights. Or so he says.
I had to stop myself several times for a mental reminder that The Girl is 13 years old and can do her own make up. She may have ADOH* but she's done this before. She's getting good at it. She can handle this. Right? Right?
*Attention Deficit Oh Shiny.
She handled it. And, our incredibly efficient teacher at the OEF office got us out of class early. Jethro and the girl rolled the truck into the driveway just as I parked the car in front of the house. Her hair was perfect- and she did it herself. She'd forgotten her lipstick but nobody died because of that. It's all cool.
Y'know, I felt pretty good about that. I raised this kid, this elegant little creature. She's becoming a very lovely kind of independent. Plus, she's not all angsty and moody and unpredictable like I was at that age. (Whew.) (Yet.)
When I left for day 2 of my course Sunday morning, nobody was awake yet. I started class at 8 am, fighting down the medication induced ickiness that I feel every morning, and barely had time to think about my family at home. I'd left notes on the stove top, of course. I was specific: I wanted two home made cards, clean dishes, and a walked dog.
The dog was happy and sufficiently exercised when I got home. The dishes were in the process of being washed. The floor had been swept. And to top it all off, I got a handful of tulips!
My cards are beautiful. They are full of colour and announce that I am AWESOME and AMAZING.
I gave and got lots of big hugs. I stared at those two, at their hazel eyes and long black eyelashes, his big feet, her long legs, and marveled that they were each little babies that I grew. Nearly fourteen years later, I still can hardly believe that I did that. I grew two babies. And now one's bigger than me, and the other is catching up.
Maybe I really am AMAZING.
They cooked me a nice little meal, and after we nagged Bucky to go have a shower, which he miraculously survived, we all flopped out on my bed for a few minutes. Their Furry Big Brother, Nigel the Cat, purred on the Girl's chest, while their Little Stinky Furry Brother, the Pug, snored on Bucky's chest. I leaned over and gave Jethro a kiss. I thanked him for the kids, since he had something to do with it.
This morning, Monday hit hard. Bucky needed help finding socks that didn't have holes in them, and the Girl informed me that she had NO clean clothes. I may be amazing, but I am not magic. I can't conjure up clean clothes.
But I'm okay with that, because everybody got out the door in good shape and soon I'll go into the kitchen to make the dirty dishes disappear. I may not feel AWESOME or AMAZING all the time, but I have my moments, and I'll take them when I find them.