But in the middle of an 8 hour brainstorming, mind-blowing cerebral marketing explosion, I get a buzz. A text.
Not from a vendor, advertising whore, media kiss-ass, or frustrated customer.
I get this emergency text, from Kid1, college smarty-pants, who although she’s discovering just who she is, she is also discovering she may, in fact, still need her mama.
Which only means, that even though you go back to work, and even though that terrific boss drags you out for show & tell in front of very important people, and even though you leave your competent rather-attractive-husband home doing what you did solo with ease (and wine) 24/7 for a decade+, you still can still enjoy the little things that reassure your mommying matters.
I matter in the land of earring disinfecting.
Which is why this text from Kid2 goes into the I’m-Not-Screwing-Up-As-Much-As-I-Think-I-Am Parenting Hall of Fame: