No excuses. Just don't know how all of you moms find time to blog! Seriously. But, I just got back from a going-away party (yes, another dear friend says goodbye to NYC) and am reminded that the memories we make are really what helps make the journey of life so possible and fun. So, I'm blogging a memory from today and hope to capture many more from here.
Picture this. Snow falling like crazy from the northeastern sky above. Buildings, construction zones, and cars covered in the now white powder - soon to be brown, disgusting slush. And, the family files out the door at 8:30am on a Saturday morning to trek up 40 blocks in a cab on a slippery NYC street. We are headed to a public school for Kate to be "tested" for a Talented and Gifted program in the public school system. We are trying to pray through and keep our options open for next year.
We get to the school 5 minutes late. Of course, this would also be the day I am running to a going-away brunch for one of my dear friends, that I planned, (why on the same day? i don't know) and so I am the only mom really dressed up and with make-up walking into the school cafeteria. I already feel every eye staring at me like - "oh, you are one of THOSE moms who gets dressed up for a Saturday morning test" - (you know who I'm talking about) - and we find our seat in the lunchroom and wait for instructions.
Kate comes up to cuddle with me and sit in my lap while we wait and wait and wait. Cuddling is not quite the same when you are 27 weeks pregnant. Either is getting dressed, by the way. This morning in particular, I am strategically trying to find ONE thing that I can wear that is not jeans and that is still "snow-friendly" and let's just say it was a little tighter this time than I remember it being a few weeks ago.
After about 10 minutes, Kate turns around and points to my chest and says,
"Mom - you have a crack right there."
I look down trying to figure out if I ripped my dress or what "crack" she is referring to - only to realize that my dress was pulled down just far enough for my pregnant, several size larger "girls" (a.k.a chest) to be revealing more than I am comfortable with in a public setting. AND - how nice for my daughter to point that out...LOUDLY with the moms who are already looking for a reason to stare.
I politely thank Kate for her telling me and gracefully try to pull up the said dress to a more modest location.
Then, to top it all off, Kate says under her breath - but definitely loud enough for ME to hear her, "Mom, that really doesn't fit anymore."
Gasp. Quietly. Stop breathing.
Did my 4 year old really just put her mother in her place like a fashion diva and a most honest friend?
"Thanks, Sweetheart." I reply, "Mommy is getting bigger and you are right - things just don't fit like they once did."
Oh, sweet girl.
