A co-worker asked how my weekend was, and I think I responded something like, “Meh.” Because it was a nice weekend, and The Man and had a tiny vacation, but I had to give up The Boy, so there’s that. The truth is I hate giving him up, but I have an undying hope that he will be able to salvage something of a relationship with his dad at some point, and so I know this is good. Or has the potential of being good. But having him gone is like not having an arm for a week.
And so, while the weekend was a nice little getaway, and I could do nothing but smile at The Boy’s insistent questions (“How much longer? Are we there yet? I wonder what kind of lights Dad’s new car will have…”) and statements (“I can’t wait to see the new puppy!”), it still just sucks and my emotions are a little raw, a little closer to the surface. I will (and already do) miss being a mom, at least in the active sense, this week.
Here’s to hoping it goes by quickly, uneventfully, and as painlessly as possible. Tomorrow’s another day.