I am, for the first time in many, many years, away from home. Without my children. I have never spent more than 24 hours away from them. I am in mommy shock. And I’m going to try my hardest to work through it.
Part of my sadness is that I am not just away from home. I am away. from. home. for. THREE. weeks.
That’s a long time even for a grown up. At least, for this grown up.
Let me tell you, their dad just doesn’t understand, either. He asked me tonight, over the phone, “Come one, just tell me, it’s okay...isn’t there a part of you that’s just a little excited that you are away from the kids, you can wake up alone, not having to come home and cook dinner?”
The answer? A resounding, “No.”
Because I’m not. I’m just not. Maybe I’d like to sleep in, sure. But when I wake up (sleeping in for me would be sleeping until maybe nine. Maybe nine.), I want my babies there to kiss on and hug. There. is. no. better. way. to. start. my. day.
And as far as dinner? I love when my babies tell me, “Mom, that was the best dinner ever!” Even when all I did was make a box of mac and cheese and some burgers in the broiler. Maybe some homemade french fries.
Truth be told, life is hard. But, BUT... Those babies... My boys. That’s what makes it easier; makes the hard worth it.