Around bedtime Austin came down with a stomach ache. The whole evening had been great. Everyone was well-behaved and happy. The instant it was time to crawl into bed, panic slowly started to set in. I told Austin it was okay to tell me if she just missed her parents, rather than saying her stomach was hurting. She called her dad in tears and I felt like I could relate to her. I have no idea if her stomach was hurting or not, but I remember that feeling as a child. I always loved when Cassie and I had babysitters growing up, though I remember never liking when my parents were gone for bedtime. I never felt that same protection from a babysitter that I felt from my parents. Nothing ever seemed like it could replace that comfort of my mom and dad just being there.
Nights that I would put Adelaide to bed she would scream for her mom, but we would be best friends during the day. Austin had a great time with me today, but bedtime felt scary to her. I laid with her and told her how much I miss my parents every single day. I told her to close her eyes and her stomachache would go away. She would close her eyes and then her breathing would start to quicken. As she panicked I would calm her down with soft words again. I laid with her until her breathing got heavy and she fell asleep. Making the stealthy, get-out-of-bed-without-making-a-single-noise move is incredibly difficult. The idea of waking the child that took an hour to fall asleep is terrifying. It took me a good 15 minutes to finally make the move and scamper out of the room. So stealthy. Ninja style, really. This must be a skill that moms develop, because I find it terrifying.
When I was laying there I was thinking about how weird it was. When you're small you always just assume your parents will be there to check for the monsters in your closet. Even in Harrisonburg my parents were so close. They felt so involved in my life and I brought a lot of my problems to them and sought their advice on mostly everything. They knew when I had exams and what I was doing. In that moment when I was comforting Austin tonight I felt different. I fall asleep by myself. In my little studio apartment. I check my own closet for monsters, except when Kyle is here. Then he does it. I am so completely dead serious it isn't even funny. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!
Boone has taught me a lot in my short time here. I'm on my own. I pay bills, I go to grad school, I get my oil changed, I talk to my car insurance agent, I buy stamps. These are adult things, people. It's funny how we just have to accept new roles as life progresses. It isn't like it's an intentional change, it just kind of happens. Somehow you assume new responsibilities and it all happens fairly naturally. Tonight I was the comforter and no longer the comfort-ee. I'm okay with that. I have a different type of comfort now.
Transition is weird, but I like it when I consciously notice that it's taking place, like I did tonight. It has a way of slowing down time. Everything happens so quickly. In retrospect, times you think will never end are gone in an instant, like my undergraduate career. While I am impatient for some parts of my life to begin, I am so satisfied just being here. I am finding myself wondering what Jamie 10 years from now will think of this post. Who know what will be going on, but I am positive things will be so different than they are now. New molds will be created and I will naturally fill them. We all do it. We have to.
Here's to new roles. They happen so naturally and perfectly.
We were made to do this.
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