The Handoff

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.

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