Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Muffins

Today has been a rough day. It was Muffins With Mom at preschool. I’ve been telling  myself I didn’t have to go, but I woke up feeling like I needed to. Laurel and Rhodes have been so excited about it and I really didn’t want to disappoint them. So with a few deep breaths and lots of prayers in we went. 

I took one look at the crowded room and knew I’d made the wrong decision. I could feel the tears welling up as I prayed that I just get through this breakfast.  I moved us towards the buffet line and asked each twin what they’d like like on their plate.

“Muffin? Strawberries? Yogurt?”
Blank stares 
“Laurel. Rhodes. What do you want to eat?”
“Eat?” 

Oh, heavens. I might as well be asking them to MAKE me breakfast. 

I fill a plate and we venture out into the crowd to a table. When we get settled they both refuse food and commence to just stare at me. I’ve never felt awkward around my own children but this really was. I pick at a muffin and chat with a few friends who stop by to offer sweet words of condolences (which brings my anxiety way down) and it’s finally time to take the wonder twins to class. By the way, they have never spoken or eaten this entire time. 

After dropping Rhodes and Laurel off in their class I reach for my phone to call mom. It’s my habit to call her after drop off and I know she’d think the awkward muffin breakfast was funny. She loved twin stories. As I’m pressing the button labeled “mom” it hits me that I won’t ever make this call again. Nobody will ever appreciate my stories like she did. She would ask me to repeat parts just to be sure she had the details right for her retelling to daddy later. 

I let the phone fall back into my purse and finish my drive in silence. Tears are streaming and my stomach aches in a way I’ve recently become refamiliar with. It’s taken me awhile to realize what it was. It’s the same feeling I’d get at camp and when I went away to college.  I’m homesick. 

Mama will always be home. 

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