Driving back from Milwaukee to Fargo; using my cute & fun little Acer netbook to post (it's magic!). Today's trip started shaky -- more on that another time because I'm following my own advice to hubby about only focusing on what you can control or do anything about at the moment. But...
Traveling west along 35, we stopped to stretch our legs in Alma using the locks along St. Croix as a reason -- because kids always need to hear our reason. *sigh*
Anyway, we pile out and hubby grabs my hand -- not just to be affectionate, but to bolster my nerves: we're going to cross and old metal walkway. Bridges of any sort, especially those with metal grids you can see through have freaked me out every since giving birth to my eldest.
As we climb the stairs, Hunter admits he's a little fearful, so I offer him my other hand. Once he hears me adnmit I'm afraid too, his fear turns to bravado and then mockery of me fuels his fearlessness and he runs on ahead, turning every now and then to ask me if he should jump or stomp on the bridge.
Ah, to be an 8 year old boy... When the greatest motivator in life is to make a girl squeal.
When we get across, hubby explains what a lock is & how it works. They are all enjoying the view and decide to go down a flight on this side to see what they can see. I opt to remain elevated -- not just to be lazy or remain stationary, but because after some winding roads of poor cell reception, I now have all my bars & I can listen to my missed call messages.
The most important call was from the eldest, Allie, who has spent the past 4 days in New York as part of the high school theater department's field trip. Now, any Midwestern mom would be worried when her baby goes off to the big city, but when the baby's an Auspie, well, it's much, much worse.
I begin to hear her voice when out of freakin' no where, a train comes along. I can barely hear my daughter saying she got back; the plane landed safely. I'm relieved and happy -- though annoyed by the loud-ass train, so I consider hanging up and joining the rest of the family, leaving my messages for another time I can really hear them. While my daughter babbles from voicemail, I look after the kids & hubby... Derek, Hunter & Des are all on that metallic thread of a bridge above the rushing tain! All I can think of is that if they survive the shaking-toss to the ground, the train is going to kill them. Torn between the sweet relief that one child is OK and that my babies and husband are in peril, I begin to laugh and cry.
This is how they find me, when they do return all smiles and excitement, borderline hysterical.
Now they're all teasing me. I laugh back, joking that I only peed a teaspoonful. They enjoy that. Too much lol But none of them knows the joy-meets-horror-wonder that is daily motherhood.
I tried to explain it. But they don't get it; maybe they just prefer not to... A mom with underpants wet with love is cooler than any truth or reason.