Monday, February 8, 2010

Long Days, Short Years

Yesterday closed the fastest 10 years of my life as my older son turned 10. We sat two pews behind a young couple with a new baby girl in church, and I wanted to lean up and poke the mother when the baby started chewing on her tiny fists. Any mom who's been there knows it's chow time.

It's amazing how immediate that knowledge remains, even when the time is long since past.

I'm sitting here with the sunlight flooding in my windows, overwhelmed with feelings, thoughts, and gratitude. I find myself thinking on a woman long dead as part of her lives on. I look back on my life and motherhood with a grateful heart. And I laugh a little bit about how I look to the rest of the world.

Case in point. At 7:55 this morning I sat filling out forms and labels while directing my 6-year-old on a project he needed to finish today. Hubby is yelling at me for my procrastination. Nic is yelling down that he has no clean underwear. I stuff G's work and papers into his bookbag as he is running for the bus. I hastily finish Nic's paperwork, stuff everything into his bookbag, and race to the computer to ask when would be a good time to drop off Nic's birthday brownies? And by the way, I haven't baked them, yet.

HIs teacher shoots me an almost instantaneous reply, that they will be at the planetarium until 10:30.

Clock ticks. I pull a brownie recipe off the Internet and get to work.

The brownies are done shortly after 10. I throw on some clothes, cover the pan with tin foil, grab some potholders and head out.

I still have ice on my windshield, but I figure it will melt off.

I pull into the school parking lot, moving the van slowly and cautiously. However, I fail to take that kind of precaution stepping out of the van and land hard on my left side.

The first thing I did was look around to make sure no one saw my spill. Then I thanked God that I didn't grab the brownies first, or they would have become crow food.

The front office lets me in, then promises to deliver the brownies. I hear some one joke "If they make it there!"

The secretary looks surprised when I hand her the potholdered pan. "Still warm? Nice."

The only reason they are still warm is because I am just not that organized.

But I know Nic will appreciate them. That's why I do it.

And all he has to do is clean up his room when he gets home. I figure it's a fair trade.

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