The Ruthie Feeling.

When I was a toddler and my mom went back to work full-time, I stayed with a woman named Ruthie. She was old, your typical grandmotherly nanny, and so sweet. I don't remember a lot from back then, since I was barely conscious of myself or my thoughts and I was you know, like, two-years-old. But I do remember flashes, like the feeling of sitting on her cold, tiled-kitchen floor, waiting for a snack. And the joy of having my mom's face reappear after a day of work.

Ever since then I've experienced this thing called "The Ruthie Feeling." I don't know when it started or I how I came up with the term, but there it always was. It's hard to explain. It is, though, definite. I can feel it coming on and I can feel it sinking in and then, eventually, floating away. It's a sort of emptiness, like I'm a little lost. Like I don't know how I got to be doing what I'm doing in that moment.

Like I miss my mom.

I've always found it odd that I called this thing The Ruthie Feeling, because I don't know how or why or when I dubbed it as that. It could've started at two years old, and it could've just permeated my memory enough to make a two-decade-long impression. Or I could've subconsciously started calling it that later, when suddenly I was reminded of the feeling I had there, sitting on her cold, tiled floor, aching for a snack, waiting for my mom to reappear.

I haven't had this feeling much about Adelyn. And that surprises me, because when I was pregnant I had it a lot. I had it when I moved somewhere new, or found myself in an unfamiliar situation. And what's more disconcerting than growing a life inside of you? What else could bring on feelings of what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here? more than becoming a parent, especially when it was in no way expected or planned for?

But then there she was, Adelyn, and there I was, her mother, and it still didn't come. It has, however, come on when I think hard about my career, my new job, when I graduated college and when I sit hard and think about what I'm going to do with my life. When I'm looking at her, though, I've never, ever felt it. (It's neither a good or bad thing, I think. The Ruthie Feeling has never been bad, really. Just a little weird, a little off.)

The feeling hit me hard this morning after I got Adelyn down for her nap and started doing some work from home to prepare for going to work after she wakes up. I knew it was there; I suddenly felt not-like-myself, not at home in my surroundings.

And then Adelyn woke up from her nap and it went away. (And now we're off to the babysitter's so she can learn a Feeling all her own.)