If I had become a mother right out of high school, I’d be sitting bleary-eyed in an empty nest wondering what I’d do with my time now that the kids are off at college. But I didn’t.
I had my first child at 37, and now – nearing 40 – I find myself sitting bleary-eyed behind the wheel of our Volvo S80 looking at an empty car seat in the rear-view mirror. I can’t hold back the tears. As I drive past the cranes doing highway construction on the Capital Beltway, I have to stop myself from pointing them out and narrating, “The cranes are helping workers build a new bridge. Look at what they are lifting on their hooks.” There’s no one in the backseat to notice the cranes and marvel at their size. No one pointing and questioning “Whazzat?"
Carson is at daycare. He’s eating breakfast, playing with toys, hearing stories and doing crafts. Later he’ll take his first nap in a bed that isn’t his. And I miss him.
The daycare provider assures me he is going to get through it. She says he’s cried more each day – on Monday he didn’t know what was happening, by Tuesday he knew I was leaving. Wednesday he stood pointing at the window where our car was parked and pulled at my zipper to say “Take off your coat, Mom. Stay awhile.” This morning he clinged to me like a monkey. He may be a man of few words but my son communicates very clearly.
My current strategy for dealing with this transition includes drinking coffee from a porcelain mug, sampling chocolate in its many glorious forms, throwing myself into my work with abandon and going to an occasional MOMS Club event so I can see my friends’ kids.
It’s sick, I know. But toddlers smile with their eyes, and those crinkly-eyed smiles are like a tonic when a mama suffers from Empty Car Seat Syndrome. Really.
So to my pint-sized buddies Cooper and Jack, Abby and Julia, I say THANKS. Your smiling faces and toddling play helped dry my tears yesterday. I’m sure Carson will adapt to his new surroundings soon. And so will I.
