I sat in a Board of Commissioner’s meeting trying to stay focused on new budgets and buildings and a 14 million dollar elementary school that was being proposed. I jotted down quotes from a well put together superintendant on a coffee stained notepad. The article would be due soon; I needed to pay attention.
But my mind was a million miles away. I was thinking about my children and how I had fussed at them just minutes before walking out the door.
Maybe it was the boiling temperatures outside or the fact that we had waited an hour in a Dr.’s office earlier that day. But they had gotten in a fight and it was a doozy. Tears ran down sweaty faces and feelings were hurt. And I didn’t make time to console either one. Instead, I raised my voice and dared them to start another ruckus before their dad got home.
So I sat uncomfortably inside the cold government building on a padded paisley chair. I listened to men in suits talk finances and figures. And all I wanted to do was tell my kids I was sorry before they fell asleep. I watched the clock on the wall tic from 6 to 7 to 8 to nearly 9 o’clock when the meeting was finally adjourned. The 30 minute drive home down a curvy mountainous road felt longer than usual. When I walked in the door, everyone was in bed. The house was quiet. J had left a plate of leftovers wrapped neatly on the center of the kitchen table.
The boys were fast asleep. I took my scratchy shoes off and slipped into Gracie’s room.
“Mom, is that you?” she whispered.
I knew she’d be awake. She would need closure. She would need to make sure we were Ok.
Minutes later, I brought her a silver tray with a Debbie cake and a glass of chocolate milk. And I ate leftovers from dinner on her bed. We briefly chatted about the argument had with her brother. I apologized for losing my temper. And then the conversation shifted to purses.
Disney World and the beach and elaborate birthday parties were all memorable. But they don’t compare to the real everyday moments … where there inevitably is fighting … and tears … and apologizing … and chocolate milk.