The next morning the heat and humidity of summer in Maryland was an intense reminder of the weather we were leaving. A 500 yard walk to breakfast had McKay talking about wanting to take a shower in the hose a man was using to clean the sidewalk. Touché buddy. Gabe flirted with the waitress, barely ate his breakfast, and walked all around instead of sitting in his chair. Par for the course with this guy. McKay sucked down two “dippy eggs” (over easy eggs) and toast. Liz and I ate nervously but only to curb the empty feeling in our stomachs, knowing we wouldn’t eat until dinner in California. We drove to Gabe’s daycare to drop off the last check and say goodbye to Mrs. Linda or “Sinda” as Gabe had begun to call her. Gabe had been going there since he was 12 weeks old. McKay went there for 18 months prior to Montessori pre-school this year.
She had become an extension of our family and we were blessed to have found her. When Liz about to return to work the daycare we had lined up for Gabe called and said it would be a few more weeks because the new room was delayed due to construction issues. Liz was at the end of her leave and we were generally pissed at the way they handled the whole situation. I sent a Facebook message to a friend who lived close to us to see if she had any recommendations. She did…a woman named Linda that ran an in-home daycare very close to our house. I called her and arranged for Liz to come by and meet her. This was the Tuesday or Wednesday before Thanksgiving.
I dropped him off the Monday morning after Thanksgiving. There is something about leaving your tiny baby with a stranger that I would compare to taking a surprise sucker punch to the gut. That first day I spent feeling extreme guilt over being the worst mom ever, questioning if we had fully vetted Linda enough, voicing these concerns over the phone with Liz, and resisting the urge drive back and pick him up. But day one went well, Gabe was ok, and we took him back on day 2 and came to look at that daycare issue as a bump in the road at the perfect time. Gabe walked for the first time at Linda’s house and we got the video right away. When our oldest struggled in a new pre-school we moved him to Linda’s as soon as we could. After 3 straight months of him not napping or eating at pre-school he started to flourish at Linda’s. Her homemade black bean soup became his favorite and most requested dish and he napped without complaint.
So here we were, almost 3 years later saying goodbye to this woman that we had trusted with our most precious parts of us. Her husband answered the door and started crying when he saw us. I’d never seen him cry before and his reaction was so unexpected that I began to cry. No one reading this blog is currently surprised by that reaction. Linda saw us and started to get emotional too. She hugged the boys tight and told them how much she loved them. She kissed the tops of their heads, a sign of affection I had seen many times before and had come to love. This wouldn’t have happened a daycare center. She opened a card we had given her and began to cry and again, I lost it. By the time we made it out to the car I was crying uncontrollably and the kids were worried. “Why are you crying mommy, what’s wrong?” ‘I’m just crying because when you love someone it’s hard to say goodbye to them and Linda has been so good to you guys that it makes mommy feel a little sad to leave’. I tried to talk to them about the movie Inside Out. (Side note: If you have kids and have not watched this movie yet you are missing out. It basically takes place in the mind of a kid where characters Joy, Sadness, Disgust, Fear, and Anger play out the little girl’s emotions). I told them that when I said goodbye to Linda I was thinking about all of the Joy that she had given to both of them but that Sadness had touched the memories and that’s why mommy was crying. Liz shot me a warning look and mouthed ‘keep it together’.
We began driving the 15-20 minutes to pick my mom up. She would drop us at the airport and we would say our goodbyes there. She drove even though I said I wouldn’t mind. My mom, never short on words, talked to the boys the whole way there about our plane ride and our move to California. She had packed up some lollipops and gummy bears for her favorite boys to eat on the plane. I didn’t say much, the tears were too near the surface. Every few minutes my mom reached over and held my hand.
We pulled into the airport and Liz and I unloaded more luggage than we had ever taken on a flight before. My mom and the boys got out of the car. When I said goodbye to her I completely lost my shit. Hyperventilating and crying like a toddler who cannot pull themselves out of it. But that was nothing. I watched her kneel down and open her arms for the boys as they ran to her I had to turn away. The emotion bowled me over. These boys had come to adore their crazy Gi-Gi and the time they got with her once a week. And my mom had reached a new level of fulfillment being a grandmother to these crazy little monsters.
We walked into the terminal and got into the security line…I was still a glass case of emotion. Liz said something to the effect of, ‘you need to get yourself together, stop crying, the boys are going to think this is a bad thing that we are moving’. In classic Angela fashion I snapped back. I told her I was trying but that I couldn’t get myself together right this minute and if it were possible I would have done it already. I’m sure the words didn’t come out quite as politely as I have just written them, and no doubt an expletive or two made it into the statement as well.
Liz and I have completely different personalities. She has an amazing ability to compartmentalize and move on. It’s one of the things that makes her super successful at her job. On the other hand, I have a tendency to dwell on things, rehash them in my head, and generally beat a dead horse. She has been a good influence on me in that she calls me out on it and I can’t help but laugh. She calls it sitting in my poop. There are gestures to go along with this. When I’m annoyed, or angry, or frustrated she can normally pull me out of it by making those types of jokes. Highly emotional and about to make a major life change….she didn’t even attempt it.
We boarded the plane…it was officially go time. As we taxied to the runway I grabbed my rosaries and braced myself for my least favorite part of every flight, takeoff. I hate flying because of the loss of control. Yes, I’m a control freak. As we picked up speed, I thought, ahhhh, the irony, and started praying Hail Mary’s. Ready or not, here we come California.
