Hundreds of Miles

His bags were packed; he was ready to go. Yes, we sang "Leaving on a Jet Plane" a lot in the days leading up to his departure. We actually sing that any time someone is packed and ready to go somewhere.

Luisa and the kids were heading out the door and I looked in the mirror and noticed my bed head - "My hair!" First Luisa, then Miguel said, "It's fine." The "Let's go!" was unspoken.

An hour later, he stepped onto a bus with the rest of the junior high students and teachers and we waved goodbye. We stood with all the other parents trying to catch the last glimpse we'd have for 15 days. The bus windows were dark, however, and we couldn't really see him.

Luisa thought she saw him waving, thought she saw his watch. I couldn't see the watch or him but waved in that general direction. Then, the bus finally pulled away and headed down the street. I turned to look at all the parents and some were crying but I didn't feel sad. I couldn't even claim mixed emotions. I was just happy for all that was to come for him.

As we drove home, I mentioned that I wasn't going to miss him. Luisa said, "That's a little weird."

I felt caught, like I was doing motherhood wrong. How is that I've been a mother for 12 years and still feel that I may not be doing it right?

[pullquote]I felt caught, like I was doing motherhood wrong. How is that I've been a mother for 12 years and still feel that I may not be doing it right?[/pullquote]

Luisa must have sensed something in my silence, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I won't pine for him. I'm happy for him and, of course, I will think of him but I won't be counting the days until he comes back." She nodded, "Okay. That's not weird. I feel the same way."

There is still that part of me that wonders if I should pine. Is that what a mother should do?

From the moment our kids could walk, they often walked away from us and I made peace with that. The world is waiting for them and they know that I'll be waiting for them when they return.

When Miguel first went to camp, he said, "I'll miss you." I said, "I'll miss you too. Just make sure you don't miss me so much that you don't make the most of the experience."

That's our thing now - miss me but live fully.

I have thought of him often in the days since he left on that bus, have wondered about the heat and whether he has been able to get his sleeping pad back in its bag. I've wondered if he's working hard and studying and learning as much as he can. Yes, I have thought of him often but I don't want him to come home, not yet - not until it's time.

This past weekend, Luisa, Zeca and I went to the cabin and spent the days outside, holding onto and letting go of summer. On Sunday night, the phone rang and it was Miguel. They had reached the gulf coast and were able to call home.

"Do you know about the Trail of Tears?"

"I stood on the balcony where Martin Luther King was shot. Usually only presidents are allowed to stand there but the rest of the museum was under construction so let us go up there and it felt so sad but so special to be there."

"There is so much work but I am learning so much."

"Mom! I am standing here watching the sun set over the gulf and it's amazing!"

"Can you believe that I'm looking at the gulf, Mom? Can you believe it?"

I blinked away tears, not because I was sad, not because I missed him, not because I wanted him to come home. I blinked away tears because I could imagine his small body, so compact and full of energy, standing there watching the sunset. I could almost feel his body vibrating with excitement, the hundreds of miles between us a conduit.

This is exactly how it should be.

"I miss you."

"I miss you too."

I no longer need to say "But don't miss me too much." We're past that. He's watching the sun set over the gulf while I stand in a cabin in Wisconsin and stare out at a lake.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He doesn't mention home and neither do I. Why would we? There is the gulf and boats that will take him out on the water and so much still ahead.

This post was written for Just Write. Check out Heather's post and all the posts of all who joined in this week.

Kids Are Funny - Part 1

Yesterday, I was working on an essay for my collection and I wanted to use a quote from my kids. I only remembered it vaguely but knew that I had tweeted it sometime in the past four years. So, I downloaded my twitter archive and searched through 58,551 tweets to see if I could find it. I did find it and also found many more kids' quotes, many of them long forgotten. It was like a glimpse into the past and I am so glad that I have consistently tweeted the funny things they say. It also gave me a clear picture of these kids we are raising and it is possible that we are raising a real life Calvin (impulsive and charming) and Susie Derkins (sometimes sweet and sometimes petulant).

Some of them are too good to ignore so I have decided to share some of the best ones here. I have edited out unnecessary commentary because I am the boss of this blog!

Today, enjoy a few quotes from 2009 and 2010 when Miguel was 8/9 and Zeca was 4/5.

My son just put a naked doll, legs splayed, next to the laptop. Me: I don't want to see a naked doll now. Son(indignantly): Mom...It's art. (2009)

Me: I don't think we should do a peep centerpiece this year. My 7 yo: Have you gone mad?! (2009)

My daughter is singing, "I can fly, I can fly, like a mermaid in the sky".(2009)

Miguel just asked me to open a pack of gum and I said, "How will you ever survive as an adult?!" And he squealed "I know! See what I mean?!" (2010)

Me to Miguel: "Are you at peace with your soccer team?" Miguel: "Well, you're not really at peace until you're dead." (2010)

I. Wish.  you. A. Vare. Good. LiF.    From. ZEca (2010)

Zeca: "Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun please go down on me." Um, no dear. I know that's not how the song goes. (2010)

Zeca said, "Nature made eggs very strong." Now, I am cleaning egg yolk off the kitchen floor and washing it out of her hair. (2010)

Zeca: "Velma is the bravest of all of them but I don't like her best. I like Daphne best." (2010)

Zeca: "You should have two girlfriends because that would be funner." (2010)

Zeca said, "Next year, I'd like my birthday cake to have the flag of French Guyana on it." (2010)

Zeca: "They should make butt bras to keep butt cheeks from jiggling." (2010)

Me (in regard to the 4th of July): "From which country did the United States gain independence?" Zeca: "St. Paul!" (2010)

Zeca in regard to spiders: "I love nature. I just don't love nature in my room." (2010)

Zeca just said, "I can't say 'buoy' very well so I'm just gonna call them boobies. Plus, they kinda look like boobies so it makes sense." (2010)

Froyo

I had a story about Miguel to go with this picture but I forgot it because that's how it goes these days. I didn't write it down and then I forgot because I'm tired and all I could do was dream about a world in which I could sit on the couch drinking a latte without feeling like I should be engaging my children.

I can tell you the story was funny and the wit was all him. It had something to do with a late movie and bedtime and he was hilarious and I loved him more than usual in that moment.

Of course, this picture was taken just about a half hour before the funny story I can't remember and he was funny then too. We were shopping for the last few things he needs for his junior high trip and he needed sunglasses and we were at Target and he had to try on all the sunglasses and I was all "OH MY GOD CAN YOU PLEASE PICK A PAIR SO I DON'T DIE HERE" and he was all "OH MY GOD I LOOK AWESOME IN ALL OF THEM AND I HAVE A MILLION LITTLE JOKES TO MAKE WHILE LOOKING AT MYSELF IN THE MIRROR!"

So we went spent a bunch of minutes (my brain is currently incapable of specifics) in the sunglass aisle and then he put on this pair with bling and put on a bunch of chains and said, "Mom! Take my picture! I'm making fun of the Biebs." I took his picture obviously even though two other women in the sunglass section were staring at us like we were crazy and I wanted to say, "Maybe we are crazy but he's kinda funny so you should respect, yo." But I would never say anything to anyone who was judging me. Well, I would if they said something mean to one of my kids but hopefully, if I did speak up, I wouldn't finish the sentence with "yo." Unless maybe I said "Froyo" but why would I say that to someone who was being mean to one of my kids.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Target.

So, he finally picked out a pair of red and black sunglasses that are mirrored and look absolutely ridiculous and then we had to get a swimshirt and he was outraged because he doesn't want to wear a swimshirt when he goes to the Gulf of Mexico and I was all, "WHY?" and he was all, "Mom, have you seen these abs? Why would I hide them?" and I said, "Sunburn" and he said, "Fine. Buy the shirt and if I burn, I'll cover these up but I won't if I don't have to." And I laughed and wondered how I ended up with a kid who is a total jock and has great abs when I couldn't even do the flexed arm hang in elementary school.

We got the swim shirt and then we got a few other things and then we had to get snacks for the trip and he wanted weird things to hide in his back pack like freeze dried strawberries and beef jerky and I said, "But we're supposed to buy snacks to share with everyone and you're not supposed to hoard your own snacks in your backpack!" and he said "Mom, don't worry. You shouldn't have to buy snacks for everyone - what if snacks you bought ended up going to one of my arch enemies?" and I said "You shouldn't have arch enemies! Where is your generosity of spirit?!" and then the old woman in the dried fruit aisle laughed hysterically at us and then went to buy cheese balls.

We compromised and bought secret snacks and snacks for everyone.

Then, we got coffee and listened to K'Naan on the way home and that's when World War Z came up and we had the hilarious conversation that I can't remember but I know you would have loved it.

Well, this post didn't go as expected. Maybe we were all better off when I the blog lay dormant.