My first draft of Book 8, tentatively titled “Tangled Web,” is done.
This round of writing included a severe bout of writer’s block about two-thirds of the way through, which surprised me because I knew where the story was going. I just couldn’t figure out how to get there. I got stuck for weeks until I finally worked out the kinks and plowed through to the end. Now starts the editing process, and we’ll see where that takes us.
May is particularly overwhelming this year, mostly with good things. Among those good things is the fact my oldest son is graduating from college on Saturday.
I don’t tend to be an overly sentimental person, but I’ve been thinking about my son and the changes that are soon to come as he finds a job and moves away. Being my firstborn, C was the one who made me a mom, and unfortunately for him, that meant he bore the brunt of my mistakes and insecurities and fears.
C was a happy baby who loved everyone. He’d go with whoever would play with him without a look back at me. He went through a short phase when he didn’t like men with deep voices but overcame that after a few weeks. He did a complete 180 by the time he was a toddler and thought any man who wore a cowboy hat was a great guy. He would have gladly walked off with a stranger at the store as long as the dude had a Stetson. That fact scared me to the point where I started having a recurring dream about him being kidnapped, and I kept having that dream well into his high school years.
But the flip side of his love for everyone else is that he never clung to me or needed me the way some kids do with their moms. He never had separation anxiety or ran to meet me or cried when I left (I did not realize what a gift that was until my younger son, J, was born, and I had a long stretch of time when I couldn’t even go to the bathroom by myself). As a young, insecure mom, that kind of stung a bit. Maybe I wasn’t a good enough mom if he found everyone else so much more fun to be with.
He’d happily go play at his grandmas’ houses, even overnight, and never decide he wanted to come home. But he did have one peculiar habit. When I dropped him off, he always asked me what I’d be doing while we were apart. Usually it was going to the store since shopping kidless has to be one of life’s great luxuries at that age. Sometimes it was cleaning the house. Or reading a book uninterrupted. Or watching something on TV that wasn’t Veggie Tales. (To this day, I can still recite long passages of Veggie Tales episodes and know all the words to ‘The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything.’) He didn’t seem to care what I was doing. He just wanted to know.
When he was three, my brother got married in Arizona, literally in the middle of nowhere. The plan was for me to go solo since the place we were staying would not accommodate young kids very well. I weaned J in time for my departure. Both he and C would stay with my in-laws on Friday while my husband took me to the airport, then went to work. They’d stay with Dad on Saturday, then pick me up from the airport on Sunday. I was stressed that J would be cranky while I was gone, given his history of mommy attachment and his recent weaning. It never occurred to me to worry about how C would handle my absence.
A few days before I was supposed to leave, C asked me what I’d be doing while I was gone. He couldn’t understand the concept of Arizona so I got out an atlas and showed him where Arizona was compared to Illinois. He seemed interested in the map so I pointed out where some other family members lived, too. All seemed fine. Until Friday when he completely melted down at my in-laws’ house because he wanted his mom. Arizona, I guess, was just too far away. (J, on the other hand, didn’t miss me at all).
I realized, then, that for C I was not the center of his universe, but I was his safety net. I was the person he trusted to be there when he needed me, allowing him the freedom to explore and go off on his own adventures.
As he grew up, that relationship never changed. And I hope he knows that it never will, even if his new adventures take him much farther away than Arizona.