Cookies and My Baby is Leaving Me

I just had a completely irrational moment where the weight of the knowledge that my baby boy is starting Kindergarten on Monday enveloped me in its hard iron grip and squeezed until I could hardly breathe.

It lasted for about 10 seconds, though the 10 seconds felt more like eternity.  A cold, wave of panic and confusion washed over me, and I had no idea which way was up.  My heart was pounding, my mouth was dry.  I saw a million things at once, and blackness at the same time.

And then I ate a cookie.  A no-bake cookie.  And I felt better.  No-bake cookies and I go way back...long before my little baby boy was even a gleam in my eye.  I used to gorge myself on no-bake cookies at the potlucks held at churches where my college chorus would perform.  (Forget the "Freshman Fifteen," I was aiming for the "Freshman Fifty.")  Every church potluck I have ever been to in my life has contained a platter of no-bake cookies.  It's easy to understand why.  They are so quick and easy to make.  If you have to bring food for a potluck, you might as well slap some of these puppies on wax paper and call it done.  They contain oatmeal and peanut butter, so they are practically health food, too.  (That's what I like to tell myself, anyway.)  And they taste delicious...Dee-Lih-Shus.  I make them every once and a while, and they are as close to comfort food and I can get.  Forget the mac and cheese or creamy mashed potatoes.  Just give me some no-bakes and stand back, please.

I didn't know why I was pulling out my old recipe book and thumbing to the index to find "no-bake."  I didn't have that strong of an urge to make cookies.  There were other things I needed to be doing (the piles of laundry and dirty dishes have been staring at me all day.)  But I felt drawn to make these particular cookies, and right after I finished making them, my world collapsed.  I had a pity party of epic proportions as I imagined my baby boy proudly marching into school on Monday with his little red lunch bag swinging by his side.

I guess somewhere deep inside my subconscious knew I would need a little help to get through my meltdown.  I was taking care of myself before I was even aware I was going to need it.  I'm thinking I might need to take a few cookies along on Monday morning just in case I need help getting back to my car.

The good news is, after I drop the kids at school, I am headed to a dear friend's house to pray together with some friends I love and who love me.  We will pray for our sweet children, and pray for the ways our hearts are both joyful and sad at the same time.  I'll bring the cookies to share.