Posts Tagged ‘separation’

Degrees of Separation

Monday, October 18th, 2010

OK, I will be the first to admit – I am “one of those moms.” I like to see it all, never miss a moment, make every practice, put my child ahead of myself. While I realize this may not always be the best practice, old habits are hard to break (although as Brady has gotten older, I have gotten better). I was married for the first 3.5 years of my son’s life and never spent more than about 5 hours away from Brady. Of course my marriage was far from normal, but this blog is about my love (and attachment) to my son. Once we divorced, I was given full custody. His father still sees him, but we still aren’t apart very much. He does spend the night 1-2 nights each month, which was an adjustment. But I have come to enjoy those few quiet times.

Then I took on a new job, this job requires some travel. Once each month I travel a few hours to a staff meeting all day. The first month was a bit exhilarating, to be honest. I actually enjoy the professional conversation. I have had to travel a few times (Texas, Denver, and Washington, D.C.). Each trip was a few days, and Brady came along (with his nannies – Mamaw and Papa).

This week I am taking my first “solo” trip without Brady. So this will be the first time that I will ever miss a day of his life. I will be gone a bit over 48-hours. I know he is almost five years old and will be fine. I thought about taking him along with me for the short trip. But the realist in me knows that it is best for Brady to stick to his regular routine of preschool, church, play dates, and other stuff. So although I will miss the little man like crazy, he will be in good hands. Personally I am dreading leaving him, however, I have a few books and movies (with Brady’s DVD player). I plan to enjoy my first adult alone time in over five years.

As Brady grows each year, I notice another piece of me letting go of him and allowing him to find his own wings. I know this is all a healthy part of parenting, but it still stinks how quickly they grow up and move on to the next chapter of their lives. But our job as parents is to raise up future adults, not keep them little (as much as we may want to). All we can do is hope that we raise the future generation with common sense, integrity, good values, and knowing that we love them and believe in them.


Friday, July 16th, 2010

Two weeks ago, our family sent us on our first Andrew-free vacation. Andrew had a blast being spoiled rotten by his grandparents. While his parents enjoyed getting away and spending time together, we also missed him terribly.

When we pulled into the driveway at my parents’ house, Andrew came right over. His face lit up as he screamed “MOMMY!” and threw his arms up in the air so I could scoop him up. As soon as I went in for the kiss, he literally jumped out of my arms and covered daddy’s face in kisses.

The ENTIRE ride down to our house, Andrew was sobbing. He begged for his grandparents. Told us he didn’t want to go home. That it was no fun at home. He didn’t want anyone other than Nana to put him to sleep.

Andrew was a little stand-off-ish for a few days after that, but by the end of the week, it seemed like we were finally forgiven for going away.

Unfortunately by the end of the week, we took off again. This time we went down to Virginia on Friday night for a wedding. Andrew returned to the fun house with Nana, Papa, Alli (my sister) and Rosie (their dog that Andrew has declared to be his). We met up on Sunday morning for brunch.

Andrew refused to look at us. He clung to my mom’s neck like it was a life preserver. He wouldn’t sit next to anyone but Nana. Wouldn’t talk to anyone but Nana. I couldn’t even bribe Andrew into a smile with new trains or Lightening McQueen stickers.

Again, the entire ride home he bawled and screamed that he wanted Nana and Papa, not Mommy and Daddy.

I won’t lie. It stung. I missed the little guy like crazy. I know he missed us too. But instead of embracing us when we got back, we were in the dog house for leaving him in the first place. Maybe that’s normal for kids…but it’s still real hard to take.

Early Monday morning, about 20 minutes after I finally got to sleep, Andrew woke up screaming for me. It was the first time in awhile he woke up in the middle of the night. Part of me wanted to let him cry himself back to sleep, but I also knew he just needed to see we were still there.

I ended up spending the next four hours asleep in the rocker at the foot of his bed. It made for a long right for me, but maybe it helped him feel a little more secure. At least I’d like to think so… Maybe it’ll even get me out of the dog house sooner rather than later.

It gets easier

Friday, September 11th, 2009

There’s a chill in the air. The boys in pinstripes pulled it together and are in the hunt for the pennant. Our jackets have come out of the back of the closet. It must be time for fall.

I can’t write about back to school. My son isn’t old enough for school yet and his routine in going to daycare hasn’t changed. But this time of year reminds me of bringing the little guy to daycare for the first time. It was traumatic – and the trauma was all mine.

I was fortunate enough to spend 5 months at home with my son. You could probably count on one hand the number of hours that we had spent apart. When I went back to work, we would be away from each other at least 10 hours at a time. Over the course of my last month home, I planned to “transition” him into daycare and, by that, I really meant break myself in.

I made my husband come the first time I dropped our son off. We spent WAY too much time lovingly making up his crib, folding his spare clothes and putting his bottles in the fridge. After an hour away, I started getting twitchy and begged my husband to bring me back so we could reclaim our son.

My first day doing the drop off solo, I fought back tears the entire time, jaw quivering when I had to hand my baby over to the strangers who would be watching him. By the time I hit the car, I broke down into hysterical sobs. It took all my self control not to run back into the building and abduct my son.

I indulged the hysterics for a few minutes before pulling myself together. I went to my favorite diner for breakfast. I forced myself to keep busy. That lasted a little over 3 hours before I went racing back to daycare to reclaim my kid.

Those first days were the worst. In the ones that followed, the tears stopped, the lump in my throat got smaller and I could hand my son off to his caretakers with a genuine smile. There are still days where it’s hard to leave him in the morning, knowing that he’ll be spending virtually all of his waking hours with someone else. The time apart really does make us enjoy the time together even more.

So to those moms and dads who may be bringing their little ones to daycare or school for the first time this week, just remember, it gets easier.