I’m back at work. And I’m busy. I think both of these things are good. It’d be hard to be back at work and not be busy. I’d spend all day wondering what the kids are doing. But I don’t. It helps that (1) Jason has become our own version of Mr. Mom; (2) I like my job; and (3) I get little photo text messages every day or two that look like this:
With Casey, he was such a tiny infant—he didn’t even really understand that he was going to his grandmother’s house instead of staying with me. He just knew that he was being well-fed, well-loved and well-snuggled. With Marcie, I was in law school, and I had to start back in school pretty much a day after we got back. I didn’t have a choice by to take her, kicking and screaming, to her grandmother’s house. I knew she was well-fed, well-loved and well-snuggled. And I knew she was fine a few minutes after I left, but boy- those transitions were heart-breaking. (And, let’s be honest, if she didn’t cry when she separated from me, I would have been bothered by that, too. It’s a lose-lose.)
But with Tate, he doesn’t go anywhere. He sticks around our house with his dad. He sees his brother and sister at the same time every day (and his little feet kick out when they get home, he’s so happy to see them!). Of course he is well-fed, well-loved and well-snuggled—but all without that awful transition. And when he hears my voice or sees me come home, he screeches and crawls right on over to me, demanding that I hold him.
Yeah, I’m missing out on stuff. He learned how to wave last week. And finally started doing the sign for “all done.” And he starting to stand without holding on to anything. I will probably miss his first step. But thank goodness for smart phones (what did we do without them?). And I know the whole family is better off with Jason home. Homework gets done the right way. Meals are eaten at a reasonable hour. The house isn’t an embarrassing disaster if someone drops by (at least not usually).
Of course, it’s only been two weeks—and I’ve already come down with two eye infections, a cold, and some weird esophogal cramping thing. Tate decided this past week that he’d spend at least an hour each night- in the middle of the night- wide awake. And Casey likewise has been waking in the middle of the night and slipping into our bed. I blame the latter two lack-of-sleep issues on causing the former (health) issues. But I’m chalking all of it up to this being a time of transition. I sure hope I’m right.
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