Day Sixty Five: WWND (What Would Norma Do?)
Today was a fairly productive day since the kids were in school and I had a lot of time to work on my "stuff."
There was a lot of writing and re-writing, arranging and re-arranging, sewing and (unfortunately) re-sewing. By 2:00 PM, I felt that I had done enough to declare victory over the day.
But when I picked up my kids, my daughter Masana was moody and greeted me with caustic words rather than hugs-n-kisses. What did I do wrong? Apparently it was something that annoyed her a LOT but I couldn't figure it out. So I let her walk ahead and kept a safe distance with my son Mack in tow.
When I got home, Masana's backpack was sprawled in the middle of the foyer and her shoes were haphazardly deposited at the bottom of the stairs. She was in her room. Dave and Mack went into the kitchen to negotiate snacks and video game privileges. I went straight to my work room and closed the door. After sitting in front of my computer for a few minutes and staring at emails that I didn't want to answer, I started to cry.
Moments like these were always opportunities to call my Mom. I needed to vent and couldn't contain my own anger at my daughter for being uncommunicative. My Mom usually would tell me what to do or feel because I was the same way when I was a kid: sullen, moody, taking things out on her for something she was completely unaware of. But she's gone and I was a wreck. There was no one who could tell me what I needed to hear.
My neighbor invited me over for pina coladas and I drained my two glasses easily. Dave collected a slightly inebriated me before dinner and I made it through the rest of the evening fairly sane. But there's a collection of my Mom's things in my closet that I'll pick through tonight, starting with a silly tank-top with the words "Shopping Girl" on it. It still has her scent.
Masana eventually perked up and she went to bed feeling happy and loved. My Mom would have wanted it that way. And I'm sitting here with some of her things surrounding me, a reminder that I still can figure out WWND: What Would Norma Do.