Spilled Milk.

After hitting the snooze button an estimated six times it finally dawns on me that if I want the beeping to subside I need to hit “dismiss….”



I had woken up the night before around 1:00. I scrolled through a couple of missed text messages -none of which really evoking a need to respond. I rolled out of bed and found my way to the kitchen. After pawing through various leftovers in the fridge, I settled on a bowl of Raisin Bran and ended up stumbling over one of Charlotte’s piles of books on my way out to the recliner. Of all the things to curse over, at least it was a mound of books- what a studious baby. I sat there cross legged next to the mound of books and the crumpled up paper towels I used to clean up my spilled milk-but if it was just that, then why was I crying?


I don’t get hysterical when I cry- unless of course its when I find out Charlotte’s dad is having another baby a year and a half after we had our child together; or if its an alcohol induced ball-fest involving an unnecessary amount of 7-11 pizza pockets and tator tots.


Two tiny tears silently sloped down my left cheek and slid down my neck. I just left them there and I picked myself and my paper towel mess up off the ground and dumped my half-eaten midnight snack in the sink. I slowly walked around the house and found myself creeping back into the bedroom. I crawled into bed and pulled my warm fleece blanket up to my neck. I wouldn’t say I cried myself to sleep -but I don’t remember when I stopped crying or when I finally drifted off.


When Charlotte woke up around 8:00 am I was right in the middle of making her some toast. I set her sleepy little self in her high chair and hastily got dressed while she ate. We were going to get new tires this morning and our appointment was at 9:00…after she was all done I threw a little sundress on her and her pink Crocs and we hit the road. I wasn’t looking forward to today; I would have to make the drive to Cle Elum again only 4 days after Charlotte had returned. Derek’s brother is visiting from Arizona and of course I can’t just tell him he can’t see her (although every single one of my family members has taken it upon themselves to voice their disapproval of allowing Charlotte to be gone again so soon). I barely had to pack for her because her bag was still full of clothes and shoes from her last trip. I printed off some pictures for her grandparents of her in- the- park photo shoot and neatly placed them on top of her pile of clothes. I walked back into the house after putting all of her things in my car, and found her flipping through a book on my bed in our room. “Look Mama, its Panda Bear!” I smiled and replied, “ Ya baby, what does Panda Bear see?!” She recited the entire book to me as I gathered some clothes and shoes for my overnight bag, even though I didn’t really know for sure where I was staying overnight. I felt almost embarrassed as I put my makeup bag and mini shampoo and conditioner on top of the clothes. I was being pretty presumptuous- and maybe that’s why I’d been crying.