Cheyenne is cleaning out her room.
Cheyenne is organizing all her stuff.
Cheyenne is packing up her clothes.
The little kids have finished their chores.
The grocery shopping has been done.
My house is vacuumed, mopped, and dust-free.
Everyone is bathed and dressed and fed.
My parents will be here later this afternoon.
I am physically prepared for company and a week stuffed full of activity. I’m just not ready. That horrible calm-before-the-storm feeling is creeping up, and I know that Friday is going to suck eggs.
I’m not crying at important moments like banquets and ceremonies. It’s the lame stuff that gets me, mainly songs: Taylor Swift’s “The Best Day”, Toy Story 2’s “When She Loved Me”, to name a couple. I teared up when I was putting clean sheets on Cheyenne’s bed, picking towels up off the floor in her room. Seeing Cheyenne cuddle on the couch with Merrick, fight over the bathroom sink with Mia. Please know that while I may look like a calculating android in public, I am dealing with my own personal emotional hurricane between the hours of 1:00 a.m. and 3:30 a.m., and people: you don’t even know what an ugly cry is until you’ve seen me at 10:00 a.m. on any Tuesday morning in May, I assure you.
Most moms are freaking out over graduation itself. Me? The ceremony doesn’t bother me at all whatsoever–it’s the whole “actually moving away from home forever” thing that gets me. No parenting book I’ve ever read covered this scenario. If you’re crying at graduation? You’d better overdose on some xanax in August. Now that’s preparedness.
Kids grow up–did you guys know that?