I know, it’s Monday and I always post on Mondays. It says so right down there on the right-hand side. Except today I have a mean case of the Don’t Wannas. I re-injured my lower back yesterday afternoon and all I really want to do is curl up on the couch with a blankie and a book and a cup of coffee or chai and do nothing. But since Thanksgiving is in TEN FREAKING DAYS that isn’t happening.
So, instead of cuddling up in my jammies, under a blankie and being a big boober-head, I’m pretending to be my normal Monday person. Or at least that is what I was doing before my Biggest’s school called.
Phone calls from the school typically don’t make this mom get all happy-happy and this phone call was of that same kind. Except worse.
“Hello, this is the attendance line of Blah Blah Middle School, calling to let you know that your child did not attend first period. Yada Yada Yada.”
And my heart did that little thing where it both leaps into your throat and stops beating all at the same time, with only the mass flooding of adrenaline getting it beating again.
How many times have you seen notices for missing kids? The photos on the newspaper inserts, the milk cartons, the nightly news, the amber alerts on the highway reader boards – every one of those kids has someone who cares about them. Maybe not enough but everyone of them is being missed for every second he or she is missing.
And for about ten minutes, I had no idea where my kid was. For ten minutes, he appeared to be missing.
Ten minutes to think about how small he looked under his backpack when I dropped him off at the corner by his bus stop. Ten minutes to think about all the times I have yelled at him. Ten minutes to think about the first time his fingers gripped mine. Ten minutes to think about how he tried to explain yet another scientific concept to me over the weekend and I was horribly confused by his knowledge. Ten minutes to think about how much my life has changed since he came into it and how much I pray I never have to live without him.
It was a really, really long time those ten minutes. And yes, I kept telling myself everything was fine. But I also kept hearing that little voice wondering “but what if it isn’t.” The mama bear in me had her car keys in hand and ready to go search. The more level-headed version of myself remembered that my youngest son needed to be picked up from his bus stop first.
This morning the pain in my back faded as my heart ached to hold my first baby, the baby who made me a mom. This morning reminded me of how much of parenting is luck and love and living moment by moment. This morning was filled with feelings. And now I am feeling especially thankful that in a few more hours he will be home. I can’t wait to hold him and am so very thankful that I will be able to.
*I don’t know the specifics yet, but it appears the school bus was late picking up kids so they were late arriving at the school. I have a feeling there’s an interesting story behind it, but one I’ll never fully know. At least I know the most important bits. He’s fine.