I walked in the door.
"I don't want to see you!" the toddler said. He choked back tears lodged in his throat.
I didn't take this personally at all. I knew he was having a ton of fun. The look on his face said it all. And I also knew what he truly meant by that.
"It's okay buddy, you can sleep here again tonight." I told him. He was soothed instantly.
And just like that he was back to having an incredible time. He gave me the biggest hug and I knew he needed a break from me just as much as I needed it from him.
As I was leaving for the night, his big brothers in tow (school was starting the next day), he became extra sad. Suddenly, he craved me with urgency. But it was time to say good-bye, for just a short while longer.
When I got home, my phone rang. Little man was having a really tough time and wanted his momma. It broke my heart to bits. I haven't talked to him on the phone since then because I didn't want him to become home-sick all over again.
Three more nights and I have him back under my roof.
When he was first born, and for the first year of his life, I had a really hard time being separated from him. I was experiencing full blow postpartum depression/anxiety. He's three now. Three years have passed and yet, those old feelings have crept up inside of me this week, busting at the seams.
I know I needed this break. I also know that within just a few short hours of him coming home, I'll be going a little nuts again. But that's okay. I'm the momma. I'm his momma. He needs me and I need him.
"A boy is a noise with dirt on it." Author: Unknown




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