After spending the whole morning facilitating e-meetings for work, I heard a knock on the back door.  12:30 already, I thought. Dad answered the door and sure enough it was Ms. Boomer stopping by for your weekly lunch with Anna.

To be honest, I felt relieved that dad answered the door.  Even though I had worked until midnight Friday, all day Saturday and then late into the evening on Monday and Tuesday, my inbox had over 1,500 unread messages.

Under pressure to get things down, I was in no mood for small talk. This thought no sooner crossed my mind, when I heard your father call for me.

Somewhat begrudgingly, I headed to the open backdoor. The sun poured in the entry way. I popped into the threshold of the door frame and the warmth of the sun immediately melted my resolve. In an instant, my plans changed.

A quick run to McD’s for five $1.99 Happy Meals and our social distanced back yard picnic began.

Yes, this mid-life mama still eats Happy Meals. In fact, when I was just about your age, one of my sweetest pleasures was when I’d save enough money to ride my bike across town with a friend to grab a Happy Meal or $50 ice cream cone from McDs.

Soon enough, you girls convinced us mamas that you were big enough to head out on a solo walk together. A quick stroll down the block and then you were back, “Could you cross the road?” I knew this ask was coming.  After all, you have been allowed to wander a block or two before with a friend, but crossing busy roads has been off limits.

The truth is THE busy road that separates you and your BFF isn’t really all that busy. It’s a two-lane 25 mph state road. But, there is no nearby stop sign. And, many people from out of town use the road. And, the crosswalk is barely visible any longer. And, it has way more cars than our quiet residential street.

The truth is I could find 1,000 legitimate reasons why mama hasn’t let you cross that busy road, but none of them would be the truth.

And so, we agreed.  You could cross over together to pick up your BFFs sister. We, mamas, chatted somewhat uncomfortably as we waited for your return. We chuckled with relief when you decided to call when you arrived and when you left. 

Ten minutes later you returned proudly triumphant, sister in tow.

You, our babies, kept safe…on your own…without us mamas.

As you bounded off to play, we laughed out loud releasing tension built up from years of hanging on tight to someone you know you must let go.

Fly little birdies, fly.