I was telling Parker goodnight and asking him if he had his track stuff together for the meet the next day. And as he sauntered out the door he said, "You gonna be there?"
Guilt threw back the covers and crawled into bed next to me as I said, "No, I have bible study, remember?"
He shrugged and said, "Oh yeah," and went on to bed as though the world was still turning and he didn't have a neglectful mother. He didn't cry or anything.
For a minute I allowed Guilt to whisper in my ear...he wants you there...you are abandoning him...you are so selfish...he's going to think you don't love him...
And then I took my foot and firmly kicked Guilt to the floor.
Because the Truth is I do make a reasonable effort to be at Parker's events and he knows it. The Truth is his dad will be there watching and will text me after every event, updating me on feet and inches and minutes and seconds. The Truth is that taking time to feed my soul with like-minded but wildly different women makes me a better person AND a better mother.
A couple of days later, I went to pick Parker up from track practice after school. The other kids had already dispersed into various vehicles. But Parker was still on the field. My phone buzzed. It was him.
I'm staying for a while to practice my jumps. Come help me get my steps.
I had no idea what that meant, but I went to find out.
He gave me a piece of chalk and instructed me to watch where his foot landed as he counted steps, and make a mark on step 10 and 15. And then he ran, pivoted, and launched himself over the bar onto the mat.
Again.
And again.
He rolled off the mat, sweaty and smiling, and making comments about how he should have arched his back more or thrown his head back.
And that's how I came to be sitting on the track in the afternoon sun, the sole spectator at Parker's event. With a better seat than I could ever have had at a real meet (they don't allow parents on the 'field' during meets). And it occurred to me that THIS moment is how he knows I'm his biggest fan. On and off the track.
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