Almost there

I cried in front of my kid today, but it turned out to be ok.

30% of it must have been PMS, but that's a given. (Always.) Some of it was Oprah and the Edwards, and the 9/11 widows. Some of it was the fact that I broke my own back while picking up my purse today. No joking. It contained a) everything b) my economics book c) a gigantic bottle of water d) a pair of flip flops (!), which I discovered and managed to throw back in the car before entering the office. Some of it was my insane schedule and all the schoolwork I've had to do lately, the exam I tanked on today, and the lack of sleep catching up to me. The rest of it was being completely overwhelmed by the thought of moving this weekend. There is nothing I hate more than packing boxes, unless it's carrying boxes.

The Kid looked at me crying for a few seconds while I listened to Elizabeth Edwards talk about surviving the death of her son, and then she patted me softly on the head.

"Ohhh. Sowwy", she said.

Then she covered me in kisses. She even lifted up my shirt to plant a big noisy one on my belly. I guess she's been paying attention. She kept patting me and saying sorry, and then she gave me one big kiss on the cheek and pulled back, and said "All better".

Watching the act of compassion in your two year old is amazing.

Being completely blown away by her sweetness and thinking selfishly that at some level, this must mean that this could be a reflection of the good in yourself is the warmest, sweetest feeling of hopefulness that I've ever felt.

She crawled on top of me for a full body hug, and I just looked at her and thought, this is it, this is my family. This is who's going to watch me cry, and laugh hysterically, and lose it, and get cranky, and love, and cook gigantic, elaborate dinners just for the two of us, and argue with me about paint color, and tell me about books she's reading. And I can cry, and it's ok, and it doesn't matter that I'm the only parent at her daycare that doesn't drive a BMW SUV. (Seriously. I laugh every time I park. There was a Dodge Stratus pulling out the other day, and I almost waved in solidarity. I think it was the maintenance guy.)

My new mantra: Almost there.