mom... Mom... MUUUUUUM...
One word I hear constantly. It's bittersweet - a love hate relationship with my own very identity. But also my new favorite word because it has enveloped my entire being. Most people know me in the "hood" as Kami's mama. This would be because she is the only black child for miles and truly sticks out like a sore thumb. Do I have some stories to tell you about being the white mother of a black child. People's very own curious nature has to make you laugh. One of my favorites is being approached by handsome and often pro-sport athletes asking my daughter, "Whose your daddy?" Or the constant concern of shoppers at the mall wondering aloud, "Child... are you lost?" as she walks by my side. My daughter has inherited (if that's possible) my sense of humor and will kindly say, "Can't you tell that's my mom?"
Kami is off becoming part of the food chain in Jellystone Park - remember Yogi Bear and Booboo? Well - she is staying in the luxury log cabins of one of our nation's finest National Parks and has picked the MOOSE as her animal of study. Yes, that would be the animal with backward bending, sticklike legs that carries a Mac truck frame and a fairly decent mean streak if you don't smile just right. We used to have a pregnant one that would sit in our yard and let me tell you, nothing moved that mother. Best to take cover indoors.
So it has been 24 hours and I miss hearing her scream my call letters. How ridiculous is that? Have I really traded off so much of myself that I can't dismiss thoughts of mommy-dom for four days? Can't I enjoy the silence? Can't I lay alone here without her curled up in my arm? I must say it has been wonderful not having to listen to Nick Jr. or the Disney Channel. She has only a couple of simple requests of me until she returns on Friday. She has entrusted me to care for her fish... and... I have been left with written instructions to log into her Ty Beanie Baby account daily to tell these virtual pets that I love them - (I have been threatened with some sort of punishment if I let them die believing they have never been loved). Opps - me bad - and water her garden. That's an entirely different blog.
It's almost morning and about now she would walk in and say, "G'd morning mama. Help me decide what to wear. Can I have an Eggo? Don't forget the chockie! Can you do my hair? Where did YOU put my coat? Where did YOU put my shoes?"
Finally, she darts out to the car but not without a smoochie and a hug and a great big "I love you!"
And then I reminded why I love being this kid's mom.
