It’s been, “mom,mom,mom,mom,mom,science fair project,mom,mom,I need…,mom,permission slip,hungry,mom,mom,where’s my…, mom,it’s due tomorrow!”
Today, I thought, would be a day of catching up, cleaning up, packing up for the spring break trip to Tennessee we’re leaving for on (yikes!) Saturday morning, and packing up as well for moving to our new house, our new life, shortly after our return. I thought today I’d do something productive – productive as I am tempted to always define productive: creating order out of dishevelment. But when your thirteen-year-old son calls from school to actually request your presence on an eight hour field trip with his drama class to a play in downtown Chicago, you drop all those best laid plans, strap on your walking sandals and leave the house “as is.”
I’m off on an adventure I hadn’t seen coming – and working on wrapping my mind around it, sinking into it, allowing it to enter like an unexpected guest bearing sweet memories and perspective.
This is living.