Formerly Babyfruit: The Miscarriage Diaries about miscarriage blogging, miscarriage advice, celebrity miscarriage and other miscarrying obsessions. Throw in pregnancy, and severe post partum depression. Now juggling life as a 40-something mom of a 6-year-old.
The minutes tick by more quickly when you are almost late for the school bus. And the 6yo drags her heels and takes tiny nibbles of her toast and small sips of her juice, making it all seem so important and worthy of taking her time (it is, but we're running late). She is unconcerned about being late.
And I turn into that frantic mom who says things like "put your socks on RIGHT NOW" and "hurry up, the bus will be here ANY MINUTE." I run down the driveway to be the lookout and see her mosey out the door without her coat on, arms folded up across her chest, freezing.
"Where's your coat? The bus is here!" I holler and she shrugs and shivers.
I call back to the house and tell my husband "Grab her coat and get down to the bus stop NOW."
Moments later, he is running down the long driveway, pink coat in hand, gravel spraying from under his feet.
The 6yo is stopped in the street, peering up at the bus driver through the windshield, smiling.
She reaches for her coat, still smiling. Then she moseys to the bus.
And I roll my eyes then have to smile, too. And laugh at myself. I'm a freaking parent. How did that happen?