Road Trip

Today I am hitting the road for a trip home!!

It's true! Just me, my sylin' minivan....and, sigh, my favorite blabbermouth in the back seat. He's so excited when we take these trips that he starts asking twenty minutes into the drive how much longer until we hit our eight-hour mark. Dear Lord grant me strength today...

This year, I am celebrating Mother's Day with my own mother.

In order to do that, I am leaving behind my older son, the child who first made me a mother. My child with the sparkling blue eyes, ornery smile and energy that knows no boundaries. My child child who has challenged me the most and who has been my greatest teacher.

My heart is heavy, and I am full of guilt.

To travel with our younger son means to pack one tiny bag of clothes, let him pack one gigantic bag of stuffed animals and off we go. To travel with his brother, by contrast, means to pack pots and pans that have not been exposed to cross contamination with food he can't tolerate, medicines compounded and packed on ice, several dosings along the road, specialized food packed because they can't be purchased in my small home town, and item upon item of comfort in order to reduce his anxiety. Once there, our younger son plays with his older cousins with facilitation from me. His older brother, however, begins getting into everything he can't, leaving a cloud of destruction behind him. As his anxiety increases, his desire to get in the car and visit every Target, Lowes, Home Depot and another recognizable store increases as well. We then spend our time running around to meet his needs, avoiding meltdowns, cooking special foods and dosing medicines.

Visit? What visit?

Often, when faced with the option to travel, I dread taking our older son. I am just TIRED. I am human. It is beyond me. And, sadly, I think he really wants to go sometimes.

What's worse, our younger son has requested that his brother stays home. When making these trips alone, he says, nobody is cranky. Life is fun. Life is...free.

Ohhhh, the GUILT!!!

I don't see where I win. So, here I am, a strong adult, sneaking out of my own home. I put my older son on his bus this morning. And, I am now packing the van and leaving. Awful. Awful. Awful.

I'm sure, once at my childhood home, I am going to be thrilled for the reprieve. On Mother's Day, I will think of him and reflect upon this journey we have taken together as mother and son. Truthfully, I can't say that I am thankful for it, but I can see the blessings in it.

Happy Mother's Day to all of my fellow Moms!