Just yesterday Zach told me I am a pansy. And I am. I admit it. And I’m fine with that little term of “endearment” he bestowed on me.
What could possibly have made my 17 year old call me a pansy, you might ask? Yesterday was the one year anniversary of Zach having his driver’s license. One. Whole. Year. And so I did what I never should have done. I looked up the blog I wrote the day he got his license. Zach saw the tears in my eyes as I re-read what I wrote last year and he put his arm around my shoulder, squeezing me tight and said, “Mom, you are such a pansy. I can’t even imagine what you’re going to be like next year when I graduate from high school.” I can’t either, Zach. I can’t either.
Today, though, I’m not only a pansy. I’m a mess. Actually, I’m a hot mess. My heart is in my throat right now. You see, today I put my baby girl on a bus for her first ever travel swim meet.
Her excitement and nerves were evident. I tried to hide my nerves. I think I did a good job. Her excitement far outweighed her nerves.
I really am thrilled for her. It’s going to be a good weekend full of good friends, lots of swimming and a brand new experience for her. But as Claire and her bus pulled away, the skies darkened, temperatures fell and the wind started gusting. The storms were rolling in as the buses were rolling out.
I’ve been keeping an eye on the weather, not that I can do a darn thing here, but I just want to know what she’s headed into. I’ve been on edge watching the storm’s path intersecting with the buses. My heart sprang to my throat when I got the text from Claire saying, “We’re in a BIG storm. And still driving.” For her, though, I had to present a strong front. I responded by telling her she’d be OK and that the bus drivers know what they’re doing, but what I really wanted to say was, “I’ll be right there! I’m coming to get you!!!”
Zach would call me a pansy. I’ll be more honest and say, “I’m a hot mess!” (So I’m doing what I do when I get agitated…I write!) I’m sitting here watching the weather, hearing the weather alerts and not able to do a damn thing! Shit! There’s not one damn thing I can do, except pray. And I am.
Oh, for the love of my children….