Wednesday, November 3, 2010

This is us

My alarm went off this morning at 6:30 as it always does.
I located it under my pillow and hit the snooze button as I always do.

"I'll take the kids this morning," Mom said from the bed next to mine.

"Umph," was my reply.

Despite my inability to speak that early in the morning, it's amazing the coherent thought process I'm able to conduct.

If she takes the kids that means you get, what? An extra hour of sleep? Maybe? But if you get up now and take the kids and then go to work, you can get tons of stuff done and maybe come home early. That maybe is a whole lot more probable than me, your body, actually feeling better after just one more hour of sleep ... maybe.

The alarm went off again, I hit the snooze again and laid there for a minute.

"Gov. Perry won the election."

That was me talking. I'd worked till 10 last night covering local election races and refreshing the Secretary of State's website a million times to get results.

"Oh really? That's good. I like Perry."

That's mom talking from the bed next to mine.

"Greg won city council too." Me again. I'm thankful for my reporter friend who kept me in touch with the results from her local election and her husband's subsequent election. Really, I was more interested in that election then my own.

"That's really great," mom said.

I got up and went outside to feed the horses. Next on my morning agenda was rousing the kids for the first time, showering, rousing the kids again. Mom made French press coffee - my favorite.

While she sang her annoying morning song, I urged the kids to get up faster to make her stop. I brushed my hair in the kitchen while I told her about my election night. With four minutes before having to leave, I ran and grabbed my shoes and hurriedly told her about a phone call I'd had with a friend earlier yesterday.

"I can't finish right now but I'll tell you when I get home," I said, adding more almond milk to my strong coffee and closing the lid on my travel cup.

"Really, Holly," my little brother whined from the couch where he was putting his shoes on. "Finish your story!"

I hadn't even realized he'd been listening. "I'll be home early today, I promise. And then I'll catch you up."

"Enjoy your day off today, Mom," I said. "Don't worry today. Just don't even look at the bank account or obsess over it. Just enjoy your day." (yes, I use that many "justs" when I'm talking.)

"Me? Obsess over it?"

I gave her the same look she gives me when I try to deny any action.

"Looking at it 100 times won't change anything," I said. "C'mon guys, we gotta go. We're about 4 minutes behind."

A round of "I love yous" and "see you laters" sounded off and I shut the door behind me.

Remember when I said we don't have a normal mother/daughter relationship?

Well, actually, we do.

This is our normal.

1 comment:

Kristin said...

I love this. And thanks for the campaign support from afar. Really. It's good to have you in our lives.