Squeezed

Quiet.  Space.  Time.  The kids go back to school today after nearly twelve days off.  Over the course of two snow days and spring break I flew to Montana, drove to northern California with my parents, visited with my brother and his family, flew home, hosted Rob's parents,and participated in a Masters swim meet for the first time in ten years. I am tired. I am squeezed out - a tube of toothpaste rolled to the top with the sides cracking so that pale green paste oozes.

The hours in the car with my parents were golden moments of conversation and laughter and shared concerns - mostly over my father's battle with Parkinson's. When at first we couldn't find the lengthy book on tape (11 disks!), Mom and I just talked. Amazingly, our conversation continued more or less unabated through nine hours of driving, punctuated only by rest stops, periodic struggles to fasten seat belts, and lunch breaks at McDonald's. Fish sandwiches on Good Friday for the folks, chicken salad without cheese for me.

So I did enjoy the drive, despite the spare tire placed around my middle by too much sitting and scads of Easter chocolate. And I enjoyed Bill and Connie's visit immensely, heading downtown for Molly Brown's house, having lunch at the new Union Station and seeing Rob's new prime office location only a block away. They drove their own 18 - hour trip (x2) to spend a few days with us, and the kids were delighted to play solitaire, visit the pet store, watch movies, and play ping-pong with their grandparents.

Good stuff, but draining. I'm worried about my youngest, whose anxiety over school and activities has barely diminished throughout this school year. Yesterday, he took off on his bike without telling anyone and was nearly hit by a car speeding up the hill toward our house. (I didn't witness this, since Aden and I were walking, but our neighbors did, and provided the report and showed the skid marks to prove it.)

I want to care for my youngest and my older two, want to make sure to support Rob in his new job, that Mom and Dad settle into their new home safely and enjoyably, and that Bill and Connie journey towards retirement with enthusiasm and some degree of contentment. I read that parents of middle schoolers are the most stressed of any age group, and I believe it. How  love and gratitude can sit with the duty and responsibility and worry, I don't know, but I need a few days "off" to reconcile the mix.