Sunday, December 5, 2010
Tonight I hit the McDonald's drive thru, passing through the two lanes where the voice shouts at you from a speaker, choices lined in bright neon colors with tempting pictures promising to erase all the emotion of the day. I watched as the face of the gal with the headset buzzed by, her face contorting into confusion as I pulled the 4Runner into those little spots where you sometimes have to wait for the poor soul that has to walk your food out to you when it isn't quite prepared. And here, in this spot…I wept.
Yep, I wept.
Because sometimes, I've found, as a mother, you have to climb into your car, see where it takes you, and just…weep.
It isn't important why you're crying - in fact, most of the time you don't understand it at all. And of course you'll feel guilty about doing it, but that's just another party of Mommydom one chooses to accept as a badge of honor. But what is important is that you let yourself do it. Lock yourself in the bathroom, go on a girls' weekend, crawl under the covers, close your office door and just…weep.
Then, pick yourself up and do it all again. And cherish every moment. Because, like the drive thru, these experiences are quick, delightful and made to order just for your destiny. And you don't get them back. Not the good ones or the tough ones. So when you placed this order to have a kiddo - they all count. And you relish every bit of parentdom. Because, unlike the convenience of the actual fast food industry, I don't want to drive through life without genuinely experiencing each magical moment.
Because there is nothing like it. Not even the McDonald's hot fries dipped in a delicious chocolate shake.
Though they come very, very close...
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Oh, I so know this feeling. It has happened way more times than I care to admit. It usually happens when there are lots of things going on, someone (me) isn't feeling perfectly healthy and then some little thing occurs that I could normally handle, but at that moment just pushes me over the edge. Oh yes, motherhood has taught me that there really doesn't need to be a good reason for crying. Or perhaps I should say a reason that anyone else (not a mother) would understand.
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