I won’t apologize for my absence. I know now that by neglecting things here I was able to squeeze out every last moment of “Connor time” my days at home would allow. Now that I am at work again I can see how I would have regretted putting him off for this, and you. (No offense meant.)
Connor is in his fourth week of daycare, a nice little family care place with two sweet young women running it. Today is day two of dropping Connor off without tears. (His, not mine.) It’s a bittersweet victory. On the one hand I don’t want to see my little boy cry, on the other I am selfishly sad that he now seems to leave me with so much ease. I can picture his earnest little face, chubby hand waving good-bye. I was deserted for French toast.
I miss our days together, frustrating as they could sometimes be. Walks, playing at the park, feeding the ducks, stacking blocks, running back and forth over the footbridge at the neighboring apartments, snuggling together, all our daily activities. I especially miss laying him down for his naps, that moment just after he falls asleep where his whole body relaxes and I can feel all his weight resting on me, and hear him snore softly. I miss him, desperately. I know I am not the only mother to feel this way, but I do not know any other mothers with little ones in my area, and I don’t know any mothers who have been in my situation of being home for such a long time and then suddenly having to return to work. I feel isolated and alone with no one to really understand what I have been going through these weeks that I have returned to work.
It has been an adjustment, for both of us. For all of us, really. It’s a finely choreographed dance we do in the mornings now, if we miss one step the whole dance is off resulting in a missed lunch to make up for a missed morning, and a long and difficult evening with a cranky toddler.
Now that the Christmas lights are going up Connor has something to look at on our way to the highway. He loves the lights and often tells me that they are cool. In Springfield they have Bright Nights and we hope to take him before they are taken down. I think Connor will be riveted by the displays. I have found that singing Christmas carols to him is an effective way to keep him happy on the drive back home. His favorite is Rudolph. I believe I sang it every single night last week, at least twenty times. When it’s over, he says his version of “again”, so on and on we go. Sometimes he’ll allow a few repetitions of Jingle Bells, but only if I start it with the “dashing through the snow” verse, otherwise he gets upset that I have gypped him out of an entire song.
I am currently in a knitting frenzy, trying to get something done for everyone on my list, getting distracted by other projects I want to do for Connor and myself. I found out that my cousin and his wife are have a baby girl, so I’ve knit them a few things…and am addicted to baby knitting. I want to make ten thousand bonnets, but have had to rein it in. There are sweaters and socks to make for myself and for Connor. I have 3 skeins of Christmas sock yarn and have not cast on for a single pair, even though I only justified the last purchase by promising myself I would do so. I have a sample pair to knit for a friend and two designs in the works. And yet, I have only finished Jess’s birthday gift. I have sooo much more to do. I think it is time for a project a night; small, simple things that can be done quickly. Intermixed with all o that is my desire to decorate for Christmas, clean out the house and make some Christmas things…a banner, a stocking for Connor and some soft ornaments for the bottom of the tree…otherwise known as the “Connor Zone”. As you can see I have a lot on my plate and very little time in which to get it done. If I could enlist helpers, I would. I would have everyone I know over to help me craft things and clean and decorate. I’d entice them with food, desserts, wine and beer. However, I think I am too far from my loved ones and therefore it is up to the two of us to get it all done. Everything that needs to be done, will be. Everything else can wait.
2 comments:
I wish I could be there to craft and get drunk with you. And I wish I could offer you more than hugs in your daily adjustments with letting go of those little pieces of life with your son that you've so come to treasure. and fish lips for Connor. Tell Ryan I say hi too. :)
Me too, Steph, me too. I miss you bunches and I hope we can see each other again soon. Love you.
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