It’s Monday and you’re gone. I just dropped you off. Daddy and I won’t see you again until Wednesday. That’s the first time you’ve been away from both of us for that long. Daddy came to school to surprise you and give you a proper good-bye. It was just what you needed.
You gave hugs and kisses and bravely boarded the bus.
I made sure the driver of the charter bus was sober and appeared competent. He looked like the kind of guy who’d be able to concentrate on his driving with a bus full of boisterous third graders behind him. So that’s good.
I took a deep breath and watched the bus pull away. You’re heading for three days of fun at a farm with your entire class.
I know you were a little bit worried about being away. I’m so glad you told me you were nervous, so I could tell you that’s totally normal. On the drive to school when I asked you, “What if one of the parents just wouldn’t let their kid go?” and you said, “That would be terrible!” I knew you’d be just fine with the short separation.
You did a great job taking responsibility for your packing. And thanks for reminding me of all the things I would need to take care of while you were gone (putting the chickens away at night being first and foremost).
You wondered if Alma would miss you.
We all miss you.
I miss you and daddy bickering at the dinner table about your legs kicking him because you wiggle so much. I miss our talks about Harry Potter. I miss the pictures you are constantly drawing and the characters you event. “Serpentina” might be the coolest name I’ve ever heard.
I miss you pestering me to read to you. I miss you reading to me. I can’t believe how good your reading is getting. I know you think you have the Chamber of Secrets memorized, but you are reading it when you’re reading aloud to me. I can tell. You’re figuring out every word. You’re learning the magic reading and it will be your treasure forever.
Think of all the great reading time in the hammock you’ll have this summer. School ends next week!
We need to start making our fun list. Trips to the library and farmer’s market, for sure. What else?
Your teacher sent photos from today and all the kids look so happy. I thought there was a photo of you, it was kinda blurry and small. It turned out to be Zella. I could tell because she was wearing sneakers and you hate sneakers. You wore your Chaccos.
This afternoon I ate two hotdogs. They were Whole30 compliant, but they had too much sodium and I got the salt rages for a few hours. Or maybe I was just cranky because I missed you.
Love,
Mom
Dear Nora,
It’s Tuesday and you’ll be relieved to hear that daddy and I remembered to close the chicken coop last night. “All six in the mix,” as you would say. Our hens are safe from predators for another day. I haven’t collected eggs yet, though. I’ll do it before you get back.
Last night, Daddy decided to try to sleep in the big bed with Alma and me. Alma kept kicking him, and he gave up about 10:30 and went to the upstairs bedroom. Does Alma kick you during the night? I never hear you complain about it. You’re such a heavy sleeper, maybe you sleep through it.
Ms. Blaser sent more pictures today and I saw you! Well, I saw the back of you, in your blue shirt and your straw hat. You were in a line of kids hiking on a trail. From what I can tell, the place you’re staying at is beautiful. Maybe if you still want to be a farmer when you grow up, your farm will look something like that. A big white house and lots of pasture.
Don’t worry, Alma is not walking steadily yet. And we’re not making her practice. We’re waiting for you. (But, of course, I was kidding when I said I’d yell at her if she tried.)
Guess what I’m wearing today? One of your dresses! I’m behind on laundry (as usual) and I found one of yours in the clean pile. It’s a Tea Collection one, the one I got you this spring that matches Alma’s. It’s pretty ridiculous on me, as I’m sure you can imagine. It’s shorter than I would normally wear. But it’s fun to wear it, thinking of all the times you wear my dresses. And I like trying to imagine if you’d be angry about it or not.
How are you already big enough that we can wear each other’s clothes?
It’s later in the day now and someone sent me a picture of you, just you, on your trip. You’re holding a bit of wool fleece and it’s a close up of your beautiful face. You look hot, happy and a teensy worn out. You know I’m a crier, so you know what happened next.
I’m missing you in the best possible way, knowing you are right where you should be, right when you should be, and looking forward to seeing you again.
I thought of a few more things for our summer fun list:
- Finish making our dolls
- Make pompom animals
- Open swim at Sellwood Pool
I got a little work done on the revision for Martha and the Boys today. I’ll read you what I have when you get back. That’s another thing we can do this summer, you can give me feedback on the re-write. I’m realizing any good revision is a big revision. If you can revise it too easily, you’re probably not making a big enough improvement. At first I thought this new idea would be easy to work into the story, but now I see it impacts so much. All the feelings of the characters are changing as a result of making the mama cat belong to Martha. I think it’s going to be a much better book when I’m done. Especially with advice from you and daddy and my SHEG group.
That book couldn’t have been written without you. Being your mom has made me grow and try things I would never have imagined ten years ago.
I think I know another series of books you might like. It’s called A Series of Unfortunate Events and it’s about orphans. It’s just right for a girl who says she doesn’t like “games about cute hamsters who live together in harmony,” but rather, is “the person who wants to play violent orphans on an abandoned ship.”
Alma was a bit fussy this afternoon. Maybe it’s the down-(milk)stream effect of yesterday’s hotdogs. Or maybe she’s missing you, too. I’m giving her lots of water and hugs. So we’re covered both ways.
Love,
Mom
Dear Nora,
It’s Wednesday morning and my first thought when I opened my eyes was “I get to pick up Nora today!”
My next thought was, “I wonder if Ben made coffee.”
Then, “I have to pee, but this baby is attached to my breast.”
Alma refuses to wake up today. Perhaps she just plans on sleeping straight through until it’s time to pick you up? Unfortunately, she can’t. I’m teaching my last handwork class today, so she’s got to go hangout with Peach for a few hours.
During my class with the second graders on Monday, all the kids were ohh-ing and ah-ing over the big fake tattoo on my arm. Let’s do another one this weekend. And, yes, I know I still owe you two dollars for it.
Hopefully, I’ll get another good story or two from my classes today. I’m quite sure I’ll cry. Especially saying good-bye to the second graders.
Right after that, I get to go pick you up! The ships are coming in today for Rose festival. Fingers crossed we don’t get stuck in traffic.
I’ll take good care of you tonight. You’ll probably be pooped out. You might be cranky. You’ll definitely need a bath. You’re an introvert, which means big social happenings like this need an equal amount of down time to recover your energy. It’s important to make quiet time for yourself. You’re getting good at figuring that out on your own.
Daddy and I give you hugs and snuggles and good food. And an early bed time. You’re welcome.
See you soon.
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