Tomorrow We Hit the Road

I have been such a mess getting ready for this road trip to visit my mom.  I think I really started to spin out on Mother's Day.  That was the day Bridger had a complete hissy fit after I told him he needed to wash his black, grimy feet before he went to bed.  He screamed at me and slapped my upper thigh--while I was on the phone with my mother.  I was mortified.  I started seeing my children's and my every move through the worst possible hypothetical judgments I could plant in my mother's head--and she hadn't even said a word.  It was all in my imagination, and it was driving me nuts.

Things finally got so bad that I did something sort of cheesy and embarrassing but ultimately helpful.  I called a parenting coach!  (Yes, Scott Noelle, in case you're wondering.  Who else would a gal like me call?) I needed to talk to someone completely outside the situation, and it did the trick--I feel ready to roll.  I am excited to drive down the river road, a landscape that always inspires me.  I'm excited to visit the Maple City Candy Company in Monmouth, IL and try another slice of their banana cream pie with meringue a good two inches high.  I'm looking forward to seeing my mother and practicing some of the deep listening I've been talking about in some of my recent posts.  I'm looking forward to spending more time with my dear son, who I think is struggling lately, though I'm not sure exactly with what.

And I'm excited to ride bikes with my kids through my hometown, Edwardsville, IL, to check out the farmer's market there, to have a coffee at the artsy local coffee shop on Main Street.  I used to think Edwardsville was such a boring place.  Now I go back and think, "What a nice place this would be to raise kids."  Funny how that works.

"Traveling mercies," a neighbor of mine signed off on the phone tonight after she heard about our road trip.  She's a political activist and minister, prone to ending conversations with phrases like "Peace to you," but somehow she never makes it sound sanctimonious.  It always feels to me the way it feels when a good massage therapist lays her hands on you, firmly and thoughtfully and with great attentiveness, at the end of a massage.

"Traveling mercies" to me and my family, indeed.  I'll try to post and let you know how it's all going.