Letting Go and Loving You With Lunch

I vaguely remember having lots of energy last week. That all seems to have fizzled, and did I mention that I am enormous and very well acquainted with our new baby's feet, knees, elbows and head? Luckily (and I am knocking wood as I type this), she seems to like to sleep when I sleep for the most part, so I am actually getting halfway decent rest at night. In fact, every morning, when I wake up, I very gracefully roll over and give her a little nudge, and she begins to roll around herself. She and I are cool like that.

Emma has had a big weekend full of Brownie outings. Yesterday she went to a big Centenary Celebration in honor of the fact that Brownies have been active in the area for 100 years now. Scads of Rainbows, Brownies and Girl Guides all hiked up to the top of Garth Mountain for a picnic, songs and celebration. (You may know Garth Mountain from the Hugh Grant film The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill but Came Down a Mountain.) According to the Brownie leader, none of the girls complained, and they had a beautiful sunny day for the event. When I picked Emma up at the end of it, however, she informed me that the hike up was rather brutal. I'm sure it was good for her.

It is so hard letting my little girl grow up and do things on her own. I don't know if I worry more than other moms, but I do worry and fret when she's off on her own, partly because I know what she's like and how "away with the fairies" she can be. I always wonder if whoever is looking after her does so as diligently as I would. The following quote by Elizabeth Stone didn't really make sense to me until the moment Emma Carson entered the world: "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." So true, and I am realizing that it doesn't really get any easier, especially with my first born. The opportunities to "let go" just get bigger and bigger.

I remember being so nervous dropping her off at her first "Mom's Morning Out" at the Lutheran Church when she was two years old, and then rushing back to collect her after the two hours had elapsed. This seemed huge at the time, but now she is climbing mountains and crossing streets without me, and I must admit to being a bit of a hormonal, nervous wreck. Do not even talk to me about the fact that she will eventually turn sixteen and want to get in a car and drive somewhere on her own or (even worse) get into a car with a teenage boy! Heaven help me!

Today she is off with the Brownies again. This time she is in the big city centre for an encore performance of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Before she left the house, she was quite tearful about going and sitting in the theatre without mom and dad. You should be extremely proud that I didn't burst into tears with her or encourage her not to go, but my heart will indeed be walking around outside my body until she is safely back at home.

After she left, I had to busy myself with something, so I decided to make the sandwiches and assemble the girls' lunchboxes for school tomorrow. Just then it occurred to me for the very first time what a loving act it is to make a nice lunchbox for someone. I do it five days a week and have never thought about it as a way of loving through service. I always make sure Emma gets only the things that she likes and I do the same for Sophie. Sometimes I tuck in unexpected treats and, on rare occasions, little notes from mom. There is always fresh fruit and a healthy sandwich served on nice wholemeal bread. This is one of the ways I cope with all of the letting go that must happen when one has children. Off they go to school everyday, but I know that they have a really healthy and lovingly prepared lunch. I also know that they don't really appreciate it now. It is just one of those things that mom does, but one day they may look back and think, "Mom really took care of us." Maybe. It could happen.