Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Rob and I are in North Carolina, a two night trip, the first time we’ve been away from home since adopting Rory. She seems fine–we talked to her on the phone, and she’s enjoying the time with her beloved babysitter (who’s been known to be much nicer than her beloved mommy). It was the first time we’d talked on the phone, and she was very pleased–this mommy? this our mommy? It’s mommy!

It’s good to be here. I have nothing to do–it’s Rob’s trip–oops, I’ve just remembered a small work responsibility I let slide, but I can take care of it tomorrow. There are things to do, but mostly I don’t do them. I write, and sleep, and eat lunch, and go to Whole Foods, because I really like Whole Foods and there isn’t one anywhere near us. I can’t buy anything, but I just like to look. Well, actually I bought a candy bar and some jam.

And I go to dinner, and wear a name tag with nothing but my name on it, because this is a college thing and everyone else’s name tag tosses out their many Duke degrees–some up to three. I have a couple of degrees, but none relevant here. And I talk to people, and tell them about our four, and try not to brag about how amazing they are, how well they ski, the clever things they say, Rory’s extraordinary monkey bar prowess, Wyatt’s general brilliance, Sam’s good nature, Lily’s never-ending ability to be the grumpiest person in any room (you can brag about anything, I find, if you try hard enough). And my heart swells with joy that they are mine, and then it swells even more at the thought that not only is someone else putting them to bed, but someone else will have to wake up early and make their chocolate milk.

Ahhhhh….this is a good, good way to prepare for the holiday and ski season. it’s like a big deep breath. And then I’ll go home, and we’ll haul out all the snowsuits and pants and try on the ski boots and measure the poles, because it may be 60 here, but winter is coming–and my dread of it has crawled right up on into my shoulders and taken root there. So MANY mittens and hats and ski boots and bags and skates (where we live, kids ski 3-4 days a week, nordic and alpine, because otherwise you’re not outside.) So MANY laces and buckles.

But we can do it. If it’s all out, if it all has bags to live in, if there’s a system to it, we can do it. Now I’m ready to go home and get the system in place. (Maybe.)

One Response to “Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder”

  1. Lisen says:

    And then you came home, and it was 65 degrees!!!!