“I cried for a year.”

I remember hearing this from another mom, I don’t remember who now, when we were sharing stories about bringing our kids to school/daycare. That seemed like a long time to me for crying over it, but only because I am a cryer, and I don’t really want to cry every day for a year.

I don’t, but… there is an ache. And about 2 or 3 days a week, Kaity still cries at drop off time. And last night, while reading one of our favorite books to both girls~

~ I got all choked up. I tried to hide it, but they knew.

The girls have been in school for 5 weeks. They love their teachers, they are having measurable success in learning their letters and growing their vocabularies, and they are still the same happy, well-adjusted people they were when they stayed home with us.

Today was Family Breakfast Day at their school. It was lovely…yummy food (quiche!), relaxed atmosphere, excited kids. I even talked to a few parents, which is something that never happens during the rush of drop-off and pick-up.

But I also found myself, just like when I had gotten to the part about Llama Llama feeling so alone, fighting hard to hold back tears. It hit me hard that some kids were there without a parent, and I didn’t know them well enough to pull them onto my lap and kiss their heads, like I would with my children’s friends ‘back then.’ It hit me that Kaity’s teacher didn’t know she has a big brother.


It hit me that we used to have family breakfast day every day.

Part of my, um, problem, is that I always doubt my own abilities. When I was ‘just’ a stay at home mommy, in the short span between having Miranda and starting work on Branson GMR, I always felt less than adequate. When I was a work at home mom, I constantly doubted whether I was giving my best to anything or anyone. And now that I am a more traditional working mom, my emotions are constantly battling between guilt, satisfaction, exhaustion, ambition, nostalgia, excitement, sadness, hope, and all-out overwhelming desire to do all I can on a daily basis to make things wonderful for our family.

So, Kaity wasn’t the only one who cried after our precious 30 minutes were up and Family Breakfast Day ended. But you know what? I don’t care. Tears shed out of my overflowing cup of love and devotion to my family are not wasted, and sometimes, I just miss my kids.