Susan Senator

While I was driving one foot per minute through the deep, white snowstorm to get Max from the high school, I started thinking, “Also got to make dinner, got to make dinner, got to…” and getting depressed. I was also worrying that it was literally taking me an hour to get to Max, and therefore, Nat would be in his little bus for many hours (his school is 25 mins. away usually). Would he be lulled by the slow, long drive, which is what happens most of the time, or would he get upset every time the driver put on her brakes? Would he hurt her and cause an accident? I should have gotten him early when I could have, but I needed the break.

I caught myself slipping down, and I had already been low all day. I had to put on the brakes myself. This is going to be my life — well, what am I going to do, leave? No. I love them. So this is my life. So I’m going to spend so much time in snow, in the car, and dealing with my sons’ troubles.

So I knew that I just had to find a way to be happier, moment-by-moment. I wondered what would help. Little things that are just within reach: Seeing everyone settled at home, for starters. A clean house. An idea for dinner.

Max was standing outside the Unified Arts building, a lone figure in all black. He slid in next to me, and barely said anything. “You’re mad at me because I made you come home today, right?” (Instead of hanging out with his friends.)
“Mmmm.”
I stroked his chin. He ducked into his coat. Mad at me. But I had him, safe.

Back home, Ben was oblivious to the storm, playing with the Wii. He got me to try the tennis and the baseball. I felt unhappy again, standing there, swinging idiotically towards the TV while the figure that looked like me onscreen missed ball after ball. “Do you like it, Mom?”
“Yeah,” I said, grimacing. “But I gotta stop soon,” because I’m feeling worried about Nat. Nat away, Nat here. Ned took over and I think Ben was happy with that.

I went to get the third or fourth load out of the dryer. I started making my bed with the warm, clean sheets.
“Nat’s here!” shouted Ned.

Okay, I thought. We’re all here, and safe.

I decided to make macaroni and cheese.