That being said, I (the sick person) had 5 hours of Holiday parties to attend at all the kids school(s). I was heavily drugged and still came away with a migraine. But, hey, I partied with the kids, and at the end of the day, when my children looked at me like I was a rock star, it made it all worth it.
I kind of miss that look. It doesn't seem to come as often as when they were just little munchkins.... you know that look, when there is nothing better than mom. It wouldn't take much - actually, pretty much zero effort. I would just walk in the room and they would light up, smile, squeal and reach their little pudgy arms out to me and I just could not get to them fast enough. Then they would try and eat my face they where so happy to see me. Those really were some of my fondest memories. Now those moments are less often and only come sporadically at best. They aren't as grand as they used to be, but.... they are still there.
I still see a glimpse of excitement in their eyes when they see me up at their school, even if it is only for a second or two before they remember they are with their friends and have to be cool and just nod at me. I even get hugs from the younger ones who have not yet decided I am not cool enough to hug.
I remember quite clearly the day when it started to change with C. I am sure it was such a small thing to him that it didn't even register, but it was huge to me....
It was a ordinary day, nothing noticeably different than the day before, yet something had changed. I am guessing this change happened during the night since I was not notified, nor was I tipped off - that, would have been nice. So, for 11 years, I had a little hand reach for mine to hold as we walked. It was such a normality that I didn't even notice it happening most of the time- it just was and always had been..... but today, that overnight change manifested itself very noticeably.... C didn't reach for my hand when I offered it. I had to do a double take and visually SEE the absent hand in mine for it to truly register. I want to believe he didn't notice my hand reaching for his, but I think he might have seen it. My heart instantly felt tight - too heavy for my chest...literally, it felt like it was going to crack or break - and it stung. I didn't want to make him feel bad so I tried to be as nonchalant as possible. I took that empty hand and waved a brave goodbye (I could not speak for that tight, too heavy cracking heart had lodged itself in my throat). I barely made it back to my car before the tears came....and they rolled down my cheeks like water on oil. I wondered pretty much the whole day... "What was my purpose in life if not to hold my child's hand as we walked?"
That was the beginning of it. Little steps of independence where being taken, and he was ready.... I was not. I kept having flash backs of the little baby boy that not only needed me, but wanted me, over anything or anybody in the whole world. How could that change so fast?
Then just when I thought I would survive this "no hand holding," came the lunch blow off.... I was bringing lunch to school for C (which I did routinely) and it had always been an event that both of us looked forward to and had always gone well. We sat, we ate and we visited - and he even seemed proud to show off his mom that had brought him some yummy food to eat. However, on this day, that was not going to happen.
When I arrived with our tasty lunch this day, I was surprised to find that a seat was not saved for me, AND I was simply met with a straight to the point "thanks for bringing in lunch mom and um... see you after school." It was as if the whole cafeteria went silent and all eyes were on me - of course they were not, but it felt that way. I tried really hard, but was not as good at keeping a poker face, and he saw through my quivering smile and teary eyes. I calmly turned and headed to the door. I don't know if it was his conscience or my non poker face that gave it away, but I didn't get halfway to the door when I heard a voice behind me. I quickly wiped my tears away and turned to face C - again with my smile. He knew, and I knew he knew, and without saying a word.... he reached a no longer small, pudgy arm toward me. Almost my height now, he gave me a big hug. That is not a good thing to do when I am trying not to cry....
I called Mr. Anderson once back in the car and sobbed, and told, and sobbed some more. I don't know if he got it all, but he listened quietly. Since that day, I have been working on my poker face and I am getting braver (as far as my kids can tell). I only cry every once in a while - but between you and me, it is not getting any easier - I am just getting betting at acting/hiding it. I think the kids all know I have a hard time with them growing up and are very careful with me - which I appreciate.
Anyway, E turned 12 on the 20th and we partied like rock stars again - he was happy, so I was too (as far as he could tell). Then when all the pizza was cleaned up and the cupcakes were eaten and presents were opened, E looked at me like I was a rock star.... and HE reached. I let myself feel that "I am still a rock star" feeling as tears of pure joy welled up in my eyes .... then I hugged him so tight that he had to ask me if I was OK... and.... I was.
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