It's the last day of school today for both my kids. A few years ago I would have been meeting them at pick up time, maybe taking them swimming at Barton Springs or to some other reward venue to celebrate another year complete, many lessons learned and growing pains survived. But this year, because they both ride the bus (city bus and school bus) and they both often have plans after school--to which I am not invited--I am here, musing on motherhood and its inevitable transitions.
This subject must have been playing in my mind for days because last night, this is what I dreamed:
I was on somebody else's front porch. I spied, through a floor to ceiling window next to the front door, a baby running towards me, arms raised, tippy-toed, smiling. I said with joy, "It's Baby Felix!" I ran to open the door and embrace him. Sweet little baby of mine. But almost immediately, as I felt his soft skin touch mine, I asked "What have you done with Big Felix?" And then that baby threw up on me as babies often do. I then had to clean up this mess, in someone else's house. The first sink I went to, to get a wet rag and rinse my hands, had freshly washed and draining grapes in it. The second sink I found had clothing soaking in it....
That's as much as I can remember.
The best part is that this dream reminded me that inside my big kids there will always exist their baby selves. And it is just as true that their soon to be adult selves were always there, inside their baby selves, waiting to be known. I suppose the throwing up must be there (besides for comic relief) to remind me that I can't fix everything and that raising babies is sometimes hard work and not always sweet. I can't have my babies back and don't really long to. But it was nice to remember and visit him ever so briefly.
And, I do so love the adventure of my big ones, very soon to be adults.
Beautifully said Valerie...
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