Like It or Not
I pull into the driveway from having worked out and then having run ten errands in my sweaty clothes, in record time. I notice the giant Oak alongside my driveway that’s lived there over a hundred years. She’s a beauty but what I really want right there beside her is a short street sign with a giant high- five hand on it for me to theoretically slap before pulling into the garage. Man, do I get it done!
As I gather my packages and climb up the three steps from our garage to the door to the kitchen, I think of what Tate and her sitter are likely up to. I open the door and hear immediately little feet speeding across the house straight to my heart.
Quickly, the pitter-patters are accompanied by, “Mommmmmmmmmmy!! Mommmmmy! Mommy’s home!”
I drop everything as she runs full speed into my arms. As I lift her, I wrap myself around that being of light. Her love for me is loud, almost palatable; I so want her to feel the size of mine in return.
“I’m so happy to see you, Pie. What have you been up to?”
She grabs my hand and starts pulling it to show me all that’s transpired since I left. The babysitter looks on sweetly, witnessing the preciousness …
**
I pull in from a very early happy hour with an old friend. Rejuvenated, having soaked in the afternoon sun and commiserated with another adult, I’m jamming out to an old Queen song with my windows down. Tate is in the garage, plunging down the steps toward me, before I even turn the car off.
The one Negroni I had made me forget that before re-entering, at this age and stage in the game, I need to pause first. This often means pulling over a block from home to reset. I’m not ready as she opens my car door. Still buckled, I hear her begging me to help her find what it is she needs to make the prank work on dad. I try to keep up, catch up. I crawl out of the car and she interrupts herself, “Wait, why are you so dressed up, Mama?”
“I’m not dressed up. I’m just put together because I met Anna for happy hour.”
“Not fair, I wanted to go! Okay, so anyway - I need to get this all set up right away; we’ve been looking for hours so hurry up please, I need help …”
Right back in it. Like it or not.
**
Having been at a conference all day, I pull in -relieved to be done, happy to be home, wiped out. In need of outdoor air and a real stretch. I change the laundry, that’s kept in the garage, moving the whites from the washer to the dryer, and take the garbage cans to the curb. I slowly make my way up the steps and into the house, to see a messy kitchen and hear girls laughing.
“Mamaaaaaa, noooooo. We were just going to paint each other’s nails. Can Ari stay longer, please?”
Her babysitters are now her idols. There’s a mutual adoration between them that’s sweet. The two of them chat like teenage friends. I ask for the update on dinner and homework if any and then acquiesce - if she wants to stay a bit longer, she can. Not because anything is ready or properly cleaned up, only because Tate’s so happy.
“If you’re going to stay though,” I ask Ari, “Could I take the dog around the block?”
Off I go, on my own, down the alley. I missed my girl all day as we usually spend Saturdays catching up with each other, and yet, still, have more to do (dog’s legs haven’t moved all day), need just a bit more time. As does she. In increments, almost sneakily, somehow naturally, the space between grows.
