Motherhood: On Atlantic Crossings & Fear

November 21, 2015 in Inspiration


Every now and then the realities converge

It occurred to me this evening, whilst driving home, that my baby is like an ant, clinging to a leaf, floating out in the middle of the vasty nothingness. It was the first that I’ve thought of it, believe it or not, and it took my breath away for just a moment.

Gabriel is over two months into his journey and well into the second week of his first trans-Atlantic crossing. I say first, because, knowing this manlet, it is only the beginning. Tonight, he rocks beneath the same black sky and three quarter moon that I’m looking up at as Argo carries her precious cargo between continents.

So how am I doing with this two-kids-gone thing?

It’s kind of great, actually.

Of course I’m doing all of the classic mom-of-many things:

  • Cooking far too much
  • Counting and coming up short
  • Over-buying everything from toilet paper to milk (we’ve discovered who the recreational milk drinkers in the family were, and I’ll give you a hint, they don’t live here any more!)
  • I miss having a driver I can send on an errand

But I have to admit that I’m not worrying about either of them. I’m not pining. I’m not counting the days until they are home for Christmas. Perhaps it would feel different if they were prone to bad behavior, but they aren’t.

And this two kids thing, it’s cake.

  • We could buy a small car if we wanted
  • They each have their own room (this is a first in the history of our family)
  • Half the schedules to juggle
  • They even conveniently wear the same size clothes
  • A third fewer shoes in the entryway
  • A 30% reduction in bathroom wait time

And, it’s loads of fun to watch the show

  • There is no better entertainment than the Facebook posts of grown children
  • Text conversations about date experiments and roommate drama is better than TV
  • The vindication of realizing they see the whole point of their experimental childhoods
  • The unfolding of adventurous plans that I have nothing to do with
  • It’s great. Best phase yet. And I’m not responsible for any of it. They are. I love that.

But then, once in a while, the enormity of the world collides with the insignificance of the little humans I have nurtured, and I remember that every day is a gift.

Data Driven Decisions

Of course the odds are in their favour, and I’m a woman who believes in the numbers.

These are words to live by. So I decide, when the air is sucked from my lungs by the enormity of the wild seas upon which I have cast my precious ant on his leaf, to live by my motherhood mantra: no news is good news.

Instead of worrying, I looked around for a while until I located the seven sisters, a constellation that was handed to me as a friendly coven by my father. The same group of stars I’ve indicated to my children can be looked to for friendship when in the northern half, and I wished by sailor well; because I know he’ll find the ladies when he’s on watch tonight and they’ll give him a “little mommy” hug for me.