So I feel as if I've been a bit discombobulated lately. I can't quite put my finger on it but it's coming up in all sorts of strange ways. I'm being surprised by how I feel about random things that usually go unnoticed, or at the very least, un-freaked-out over. Usually I can blame these topsy-turvy emotional reactions to pregnancy but that's most definitely not the case now and so my default in dealing with things seems to be different. Or nonexistent. Geez, pregnancy hormones, you've become my default position in ignoring things!
For instance, we're going away this weekend to my best friend's wedding. About nine hours travel, and we're leaving the boys up here with my in-laws. We're taking the girls - so only two babies (and ok, I guess a six year old doesn't even qualify as a toddler anymore!) which definitely equates to mini-vacay! And usually when I leave even one kid at home to go grocery shopping I'm all, "Woo-hoo party time!" but for some reason the thought of leaving my little boys for four days has me totally anxious.
I feel as if I'm abandoning my little 22 month old baby Max. Which is funny because even though he really is still a baby he hasn't been the baby around here for the past seven months. This results in a more independent baby for the most part. Oh sure, he's still completely avoiding use of the English language and doesn't like to go downstairs without me, nor leave my line of sight, but I guess I'd gotten used to assuming he somehow was much older than his age. Faced with leaving him for a couple days, which when I started to think about will be the longest I've left him for in his little life, makes me feel as if I'm abandoning a helpless newborn.
I'm just surprised by this reaction because you know me, I'm usually d-y-i-n-g for a break. Any break. Actually, I'm dying right at this moment. And anyone who knows Max knows that his noise level is too darn high for most of his waking hours. So a break of a couple days from a even a bit of my workload in the diaper changing/toddler tantrum enduring department should be a fun time. Heck, I can even drink at this wedding, I should be letting the good times a-roll! What does this mean? Dare I say maturity? Motherly experience? A heart made of stone melted?
Or maybe that I just love my trouble making, tantrum throwing, screeching, non-verbal, adorable, hilarious, blonde baby boy. I'm just using this as one of the examples of the strange things that are seemingly upside-down to me these days. Like it being dark at 5 pm and feeling a sense of anxiety about what I don't know. Fearing to pack one of the kids preferred pajamas which, of course, signals end times. Being a little too happy when certain characters succumb to zombies on The Walking Dead. No, that last one has been true for the whole of that show's existence.
I should really be packing right now, not opining about my lack of internal insight, but I guess what has come out of this introspection is that it's probably a good sign that I still love my kids ineffably enough to miss them over the course of 4 days. Even the kids who have a high degree parenting of difficulty as well as the kids with a much lower degree of difficulty. They probably won't notice I'm gone, I'll definitely have my share of drinks and I'm sure have a wonderful time, we'll get home again and realize a little break did us all good, that is after we're over the grandparent-time behaviour hangover and the mountains of dirty laundry!
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I think we're a lot more anxious about leaving our little ones than they are about being left. It's a love-hate thing, being away from them. And then, after not having seen him for three days, we're re-united again, and he's all like, "oh, it's you. BORED." and blows me off, I pout a little, then am like, "huh, he was okay after all!"
ReplyDeleteWe left all six kids with my parents last weekend. I totally missed them, but they were fine and I got to pay some attention to my husband for a change!
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