I'm in Verizon dealing with her phone and contract because they can't do that at her store in CA. This is the phone that thought it was a cookie and dunked itself in milk, errr... a bucket of white paint.
So I'm telling her not to fret, that it'll be taken care of and in closing I asked her if there was anything else she needed. Her response? "You."
It was so unexpected that I thought I'd misheard. "What?"
"You, mom. I need you. Can you just put yourself in a box and mail you to me? Please?"
... and I'm bawling in front of the nice Verizon lady.
A text message a couple of days ago that said, "You made me cry. well, your blog did."
She'd read this all the way from the beginning up to yesterday and I think that, in context and scope, the amount that she's cherished by me came forward and was seen, clearly.
I'm not apologizing. Even on the difficult days, and heaven knows we've had a few, I am that much happier because she is my daughter.
Joshua. My incredible boy.
He's learning how to grill so that he can make great food and impress his sister when she comes home. So far? Incredible success!
My kids have been each other's best friend since the day he was born. I count my blessings and so does he. Every day. Both of us count V as much as I know she counts us.
Skidding sidelong into the post office to get V's birthday gift in the mail on time for Monday, the 9th. Whew! Made it!
It's been a challenge to make it affordable, packagable and personal but I'm satisfied with what's in the box. (Shhh! She's reading so I can't tell you more!)
The box has a cute address label on it so the nice man asks if this is a present. "Yep! It's for my daughter's birthday."
"How old is she going to be?"
"19. It's her first birthday away from home so it really needs to be in her hands on the DAY."
"No problem, ma'am. She's still mamma's baby, yeah? Still mamma's baby."
... and I'm bawling in front of the nice post office man.
V adds a comment that says I should add "awesomest mom ever" to my list. Awwww! Thank you, my love. Being your mom is not a job. It's always been my honor. Thank you back, for being my kid.
It's 2 weeks and 4 days from V's tech school graduation. Thoughts and plans are beginning to gel for potential leave and/or recruiter's assistance time at home. I know we're ready!