Driving my youngest child home after he's had a full day of school is better than winning any lottery could ever be. I settle our black van in the school pick up line early so I'm one of the first cars he sees, and then along with my mid-afternoon coffee and a book dog-eared to the page from the day before, I wait.
I spot his curly head run for our car, and the way his backpack bounces against every disc in his spine makes me cringe with sympathetic pain. His eyes never leave mine once he's locked into my gaze, and when he's almost at the car, I push the button to open the automatic sliding doors. He falls in like he just made it onto a lifting helicopter.
The backpack is flung in first, followed by his all-legs body lunging across the middle seat. With his head tossed back against the headrest, he exhales a big sigh. His sets the stage, his first words are always the same, "What a day."
And then he sits up, animated, he buckles his seatbelt, and the words pick up pace as he realizes how much he has to tell me. The unbelievable events, the surprise twists, the triumphs, the challenges, the happenings of his day in his 5th grade classroom that YOU WILL NEVER GUESS BUT GO AHEAD TRY, MOM, TRY!
He dares me to see if I know who held the court at foursquare at lunch, to guess who finished the math quiz first! And then, who do you think forgot their homework again!
I guess, and most times, I'm right... and the short ride home is over way too quickly. We pull into our garage, and the chattering stops. He scoots out of his seat and runs into the house, not able to wait one minute more until he can peel his school uniform off and ball it onto the living room sofa. He opens the refrigerator and rummages for a snack, our conversation from the ride home already left echoing in the car.
Except for me, his voice lilts in my head like the first chirping of birds after a much too long winter. I replay all he's told me because I never want to forget the sound of him, still so bell-like and clear, and young.
My children are what make Mother's Day what it is for me -- a time for me to celebrate this role of my life. I need no more than the gifts I already gloriously have, that of their love as they greet me with the enthusiastic retelling of their day. What more could there be, than how this child of mine saves and gathers his words, until the time of when he sees me again.
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Oh this is so sweet. I, too, enjoy those few moments in the car after school pick-up that are full of energy.
ReplyDeleteI love it! I still feel such a strong need to be here when my teens first get home from school because that is when the magic comes out...so fleeting, and I hate to miss it, or come home to both of them already here. There is only a ten minute gap between their arrival times and it is perfect!
ReplyDeleteOh, I cannot decide if I am dismayed or relieved to find out that the couch actually is the place for the day's clothes. I will take solace in being in good company!
You have such amazing children, Alexandra. A true testament to you as a parent.
ReplyDeleteI do not get to pick up my girls from school because I work but each day when my work day is done I get in my car and the first thing I do is call home. One of their sweet voices answers and I spend the next 20-40mins of my drive home hearing about each of their days. It is one of the best parts of our days and keeps us connected like I could have never expected!
ReplyDeleteI loved every word of this. It is exactly the way I feel about my sons and how I hope it continues as they grow..up and out into the world.
ReplyDeleteYour mothering is inspiring and I thank you, for sharing those little moments with us.
I read this with a wishful heart. So sweet and pure and good. Treasured endearments. My youngest, now 16, has long since left that era and I'm lucky to get a "see ya" from him these days on his way to school. Only occasional eye contact, unless he's asking a questions. Or needs something. I know it's likely a stage -- rather, I pray that it is. Do treasure these moments -- as I know you do -- and pat yourself on the back for being such a wonderful mom.
ReplyDeleteMy friends, you all are so much my friends, and my people. Thank you. How lucky are we, that they save their words and wait to talk to us??
ReplyDeleteNot to brag, but I'm pretty good at those classmate guessing games!
ReplyDeleteHappy Mother's Day!
I loved it when my son would arrive home from high school because he always had the most fascinating bus trip stories. I missed that the most when he went away to University.
ReplyDeleteI loved it when my son would arrive home from high school because he always had the most fascinating bus trip stories. I missed that the most when he went away to University.
ReplyDeleteI love the stories of the day. They are always my favorites.
ReplyDeleteI sit cross-legged at your feet and learn how to be a mom from you.
ReplyDeleteYour relationship with your boys is so lovely. Have a wonderful Mother's Day.
ReplyDeleteIt's funny. Well, not so funny. I've lost that with my 13 yo daughter -- but every now and then she will surprise me with a flood of words. The most encouraging thing for me is my son didn't say much to me as a teen, but now that he is in college, he's really quite dear again. So there is hope. Lovely writing about lovely moments.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reacing, @southmainmuse, and HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, to everyone.
ReplyDeleteHe's such a dear, Alexandra. I could picture and hear him so vividly through your written words.
ReplyDeleteI do envy you that he tells you so much! I need to find ways to pull more out of my boy. He seems to love talking only when the lights are out at night and it is already half an hour past his bedtime.
I hope you had a lovely Mother's Day. I agree that motherhood is such a privilege.
So sweet! I look forward to these moments, but hope they don't come too soon!
ReplyDeleteSo so so very sweet. I love that you enjoy these moments together :) And I would venture to bet that he cherishes them every bit as much as you do. LOVE.
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