For 12 years, I worked in close proximity to my home, my kids’ schools, their various doctors and activities. When they needed to go home sick, I could be at their school in 10 minutes, take them home, get them settled and be back at my desk before my lunch break was over. Nowadays, I work 45 minutes from home and it is no longer a luxury for me to pick up my kids, and head back to the office. So I tend to ask this question of them – “Just how sick are you?” Follow-up question – “Can you make it through the rest of the day?” As teenagers, everything hurts and they are always tired so it is hard for me to determine what level of sick they are and what we would consider to be growing pains. So far this year, I’ve had to pick up the kids from school for a possible concussion (which thankfully turned out to be a false alarm), a stomach bug and a migraine headache–and it is only October. So when one of my kids had a lingering cough, I let it go for a while without a doctor’s visit hoping it would just clear up and go away. It didn’t. It has been about a month now and because I haven’t been feeling well myself, I made the decision to take the day off and get both of us checked out. The end result – she has bronchitis and I have a nasty cold with a side order of mom guilt. And the winner of the bad mom award for the day goes to…..

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Cue the music from Hamilton…just kidding. This is going to be a brief post tonight because I am in the middle of writing a piece for a Writer’s Digest contest. I have to submit 500 words on why I love writing. I once saw a poster that read “Try and fail, but don’t fail to try.” Others have told me that just the act of submitting something means I’ve already won because others simply didn’t bother to give try. So, what do I have to lose…nothing. What do I have to gain – being featured in Writer’s Digest in their February 2018 issue–that’s what. I like those odds. Here goes nothing. Wish me luck. 🙂

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There are a lot of crazy, busy mornings around here. Just picture four of us trying to get out the door for school and work in various states of disarray. The coffee is flowing. Breakfast is cooking. Papers need to be signed. And more times than not, someone typically can’t find something that they absolutely need and I ultimately have to track it down. In the midst of all that chaos, Andrew–always the last one to get up–walks down the steps, rubs the sleep from his eyes and comes over to me with open arms. “I love you, mommy.” And I remember to breathe. I am a lucky mom. He tells me this all the time and I never take it for granted. He says it every morning without fail. He says it before he goes to bed at night. He says it when I drop him off for swim practice or right before hangs up the phone. He has been like this ever since he was a baby. I treasure every single one of those “I love you’s.” He says it so casually, but he means it with all of his heart. For this busy mom, it is his gift to me every day. Fourteen years ago tonight, I was in labor with him for the better part of 8 hours with no epidural and a ridiculous amount of back pain. I had expected him to come into the world 3 days earlier, but he seemed to like it where he was and in no hurry to meet us. I like to remind him of all of this–especially on his birthday. But I would do it all over again to have this young man in my life. So in a few years ladies if you are looking for a nice young man who is handsome, funny and treats his mom right – look no further. And by the way, you’re welcome. 🙂

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