Broken record

Same old song over and over. Me and a glass of water 1 o’clock in the morning my head on the table because I can’t sleep. It never gets easier leaving my boy. And two hours before that–two hours of trying to get him to go to sleep, dinner of warm hard boiled eggs, string beans with a drizzle of olive oil and salt, his favorite mashed potatoes, a shower, reading his new favorite book, rubbing his back, promising him school’s going to be okay and I’ll be back in just two weeks and two days, with no success. Big fat failure of me ending up yelling when it got to be 11 and him ending up crying and then only the morning before breakfast to hug him and kiss him, make his lunch, and watch him walk up the steps to fourth grade.
One tired mother wishing she had more skills more knowledge more patience with flood gate warnings behind the eyelids getting on the plane to go to work.
I couldn’t ask for a better job but this part is hard.

I’m dreaming on cappuccino and cornetto.

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