Momservation: You’re never too old to need your Mommy.
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My mom was in town for President’s weekend (actually an entire “Ski Week” for my kids – which always makes me want to ask, “If we don’t go skiing, can I send them to school anyway?”).
With Mom living a few states away in Montana, I only get to see her once or twice a year.
It’s not enough. Not for me, not for the kids, not for a Gammy that’s missing all the fabulous things these grandkids do on a daily basis.
The day she leaves again always makes my heart ache like I need a hug from my mommy – except she just left.
But while she’s here – oh, the fun we have.
We go to the movies and get the biggest popcorn and Icee that money can buy. Then we pour Junior Mints and Reese’s Pieces into the popcorn and eat until we get stomach aches. The movie itself is simply a side note to excellent snacking.
She tells stories about me when I was little that cracks the kids up, undermines my credibility, or just makes me sound like a big ding dong – my kids can’t get enough. Actual chicken pieces have shot out of someone’s nose in snorted laughter much to a brother’s disgusted delight.
We take the dog on long walks while the kids chatter away, filling her in on every detail of their lives so far, and she never looks bored or disinterested. She learns about the Grumpy Guy neighbor, gets to see their cool fort at the dirt lot and all the treasures they’ve found discarded in the creek, and she gets to delight in the neighborhood tulips that the kids tell her popped up just in time for her to see.
She’ll hop on a bike and ride with the kids to take pictures of pretty flowers so she can teach them how to watercolor with the paints she brought.
We’ll laugh until tears stream down our faces over Logan running, tripping and sliding on his face, salt packets all around him on the soft carpet of the movie theatre; and over our favorite lines from movies (Donkey: “And in the morning, I’m makin’ WAFFLES!” Dory: “Hey, look. ‘Esc-a-pay’. I wonder what that means? That’s funny, it’s spelled just like the word “escape.”)
She’ll walk with the kids to Starbucks in the morning and everyone gets Venti hot chocolate with extra whip.
Or we’ll just sit in silence, in our jammies, while reading the paper or watching TV and just quietly relish each other’s company.
It really doesn’t matter what we do. It’s that she’s just here. Proving that you’re never too old to want your Mommy near.
And that you’re never too old to cry when she leaves.
