MIT Mommy goes to MIT

This must be the year of revisiting memories. I will call it that because I would hate to think that it is simply age – that I have finally taken enough of the journey that one can’t help but repeat a few scenes.

No, that certainly isn’t the case here.

Due to my career choice , I haven’t had many occasions to travel alone in recent years – the past decade, for example. But, I’m finding that decades are sort of quick nowadays and even that seems a small matter.

Anyway, it is not the same. The places may be the same, but I am not. The coveted ten dollars that I owed my girlfriend today – that I made a special trip to the bank to get – would have been lost on the bottom of my purse years ago. Ironically, I cared more about money in those years. Life is funny.

And, I have to laugh. My packing skills have deteriorated. My ability to extricate myself from the daily routine could be likened only to removing overcooked rice from a shag carpet. There is always another little something – the right shirt for spirit day tomorrow, extra diapers, a snack for soccer, an overdue letter.

As if the children could nary survive without homemade banana muffins.

They’ll be fine. They need me differently now, and that will be different again next year too.

Yesterday, I had a morning conversation with my husband in the driveway. Just a minute really, just about the normal stuff, the daily grind. The minute turned into five and looked up to see the neighbor kids assembled at the bus stop. I had left my children a sticky mess at the breakfast table. We would never make it.

I flew into the house to find Andrew and Gladys dressed, ready, and putting on their shoes on in the front hall.

Don’t they need me to cajole them, harp on them, push them forward?

They need me in different ways.

They are not all grown up. I still kiss their boo boos and scare away the monsters and make them do it one more time, correctly, because I know they can do better.

But, MIT Mommy ought to remember how to pack a bag. I am a better person than I was ten years ago, but a few dusty traits ought to be re-polished to shine again. They need me to be a good example in that way too.

As I entered airport security, my cell phone rang. I assumed it must be about the kids. I checked the message immediately after security.

“I just dropped you off. You forgot to give me the money you owed me.”

My friend’s message went on.

“I just wanted to let you know that you shouldn’t fret about it. I mean, I thought you might because I know you were so specific about paying me back. But, I need you to do me a favor. I want you to take that little bit of money and as soon as you get this message go buy yourself a glass of cabernet. You do that as a favor for me. Have fun. Everyone is good here. I’ll see you when you get back.”

Yes, I got the message.

It is wonderful to visit MIT, especially knowing I am so blessed at home.