What if I hadn’t been there to catch them?

I started looking for her every time she left Jordan, wondering if she knew anything. Perhaps her child was born with a countdown: the soldier mother who knew how much time she had, and that’s why she sat so intensely every morning, hugging, cradling, praying, humming.

He always took the spot closest to the gate, parking his tanker where others had to surround him. Everyone else waved, barked, took the kids to daycare. Even crying and crying children were pushed inside.

Another morning, I got a Zoom call at 9 and I wasn’t ready. He had dropped off the other two kids, but when I got to daycare, damn if there wasn’t a line of cars. Had the whole city fallen asleep?

When it was finally my turn, I pulled into the space next to the giant SUV. Yes, there she was, the soldier mother, cuddling her treasure. Could she not see that we were all in a hurry? If she was going to have a prayer service every morning, why didn’t she pull over to the side to free up space for those of us who have a place to stay?

“Come on, Jordan,” I said, picking him up because I didn’t have time for his laziness. I rolled my eyes at the soldier mother.

But of course she didn’t see me. She only had eyes for her baby.

After the daylight saving time change, the kids wouldn’t get up. Just when she thought she’d cracked the morning code, the game changed. I let Jax skip tooth brushing and I let Allie wear her pajamas to school. Jordan had the startled look of a clown shot from a cannon. It could barely work.