Waiting

I’m really tired of waiting for my son this week.

Waiting for him to stop spinning and hopping through the front room.

Waiting for him to get out of his jammies and into his clothes.

Waiting for him to eat his breakfast.

Waiting for him to reject his breakfast.

Waiting for him to decide on a new breakfast.

Waiting for him to put on his shoes.

Waiting for him to put on his jacket.

Waiting for him to walk out the door and get in the car.

Waiting for him to get out of the car and walk up to the school.

Waiting for him to use the bathroom.

Waiting for him to stand in his classroom line.

Waiting for him at the end of the school day.

Waiting for him at the end of each supermarket aisle.

Waiting for him to tell me why the red bowl isn’t as good as the green one.

Waiting for him to focus on homework.

Waiting for him to read the words “Green Eggs And Ham.”

Waiting for him to want some dinner.

Waiting for him to get upstairs and into the bath.

Waiting for him to get out of the bath and back downstairs.

Waiting for him to get into his jammies again.

Waiting for him to get off the computer.

Waiting for him to pick out a snack.

Waiting for him to eat the snack.

Waiting for him to get up the stairs and into the bathroom.

Waiting for him to take out his toothbrush.

Waiting for him to stop chewing on the toothbrush and actually brush the teeth.

Waiting for him to put the toothbrush away, use the toilet and get into bed.

Waiting for him to answer the questions I ask him every night at bedtime.

Waiting for him to stop saying “Mama a hug,” so that I’m free to leave his room.

Waiting for the sense of calm I am sure is supposed to wash over me once he’s tucked into bed and behind his closed door.

Waiting for my eyes to feel less heavy.

Waiting for my stomach to stop hurting.

Waiting for a sign that I’m really cut out for this.

Just waiting.

I cried to husband this evening, but husband is weary and needs to think about other things.

I went on with my waiting.

Then I emptied the little boy’s backpack and found this:

“Mom
She is very loving.
She cares a lot about me.
She is the best mom.”

Now, I’m waiting for him to wake up again, because I miss him terribly and can’t wait to see him.

Waiting.

Just waiting.

Fine with it.

I know that my son had a lot of help with his “I love Mama” project, but I don’t care.  Part of what charms me about it is the fact that I knew all of this already and was unknowingly desperate for a reminder this week.  I love that my son’s teacher understood that.

♥♥

3 thoughts on “Waiting

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