Kid

Morning is different today.  School is out for spring break.  All three of my children are enrolled in school and thereby taking a week off.  This is the first year in a decade that I have not had a younger-than-school-age child at home.  A funny feeling descended when I awoke and realized every kid in my house was asleep.

Dictionary.com’s first entry under the noun kid offers the meaning as “informal for a child or young person.”

Because none of my offspring was awake no one needed me for anything right away.  I opened my eyes and thought, “What do I want to do right now?  Is there some thing I should do?”  My natural instinct turns to what my children need from me first thing.  Nothing immediately came to mind today.  No tardy bells beckoned.  No young, empty stomachs churned for food.  I decided to roll onto my back and remain there for a few minutes listening to the birds.  Then I heard a toilet flush.  I waited.  Wondered.  Whichever kid had nature’s call took care of their business and went back to bed.  It was a gift to them and me!

Over the thirty minutes that followed everyone awoke.  We wandered to breakfast at about 8:00, made muffins, and munched the meal  away in our pajamas.  Awesome.  We kissed our hard-working husband/daddy off to his office.  We watched some morning TV, a rare treat, and looked forward to a day of relaxing.  Kid one, kid two, kid three and me.

Every day of spring break is not as empty of places to be and things to see as today.  We have some school projects to work on and meals and laundry will need to be addressed.  But what a blessing to have this day to be and do nothing in particular, to feel some space in a new skin for me - a mother of all school aged children.

Offspring

When everyone is young they take so much

space for growing and sounding cords, screams

whimpers, dreams wrapped in tears, time to need

no more but baby birds call, who has been here

all this time waiting to be heard amidst the joys

noise, learning, toys, breaking bones and braces

finding that slowly each person’s young slip

beneath covers that rise and fall with breath

a kid becomes grown able to be alone a moment

in the night of rest to awaken slowly, surely

to a spring dawn of still child mine but farther

along a path that leads away from mother want.