It's 75 degrees and sunny outside I'm in an awesome mood. I was able to leave for a few hours without the kids. So, yes, I am on a vacation! A vacation to the grocery store and the gas station. Ahhhhhhhh, it's amazing. As I'm crusing down a side road with all windows down I hear "don't forget to remember me" by Carrie Underwood. Now I sit in the parking lot searching for unused napkins in my messy momobile (you know that super messy car/van/suv that transfers your rugrats) balling my eyes out. It just hit me. Like a ton of bricks, like a knife in my back, the hardest punch in my my gut; my babies might want to leave me one day. Wait, what, NO.
They can't leave me. My sweet babies. The only true, unconditional, the kind I never knew existed till I birthed them, love I've ever known. What if she wants to leave after high school? What if she wants to explore the "world"? What if? I can't handle this, I can't. Ofcourse as a Mom, I want her to experience amazing things, people, and places. But in the same song and dance I breathe, I want to be by their side as they "spread their wings and fly"? She can spread her wings and fly right here in shitty Cleveland ohio. Ok, it's really not that shitty. But the weather is far from ideal for more than half of the year.
I'd like to think the time for them to leave our home, that we all occupy together as a family will never come, but it will. Sure, in what seems like a long time, 13 years but that time will be here before I know it. 😥
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