I have been introduced to the worst feeling in the world…. Saying goodbye to my son. It’s different than saying goodbye to anyone else— it’s a distant dread that follows me all the days up until the moment I walk out of the door.
Another mother said to me, “It’s an obsession right?” (meaning the way a mother feels about her child)
At first I thought the description was a bit drastic but as each day passes and I find myself falling deeper, I think about her statement again and it’s spot on.
I’m finding it harder and harder as I go through my schedule trying to balance home and work.
If I’m done with my day at 2am and in bed by 3am, do I schedule the gym for the 2 hours I have before meetings begin or just spend that time with Egypt? I mostly choose the latter to the dismay of my ass and abs. Then in the rare moments I have less meetings I go to the gym during his (and MY) nap time to the dismay of my studio sessions later that night LOL! It’s quite a roller coaster balancing act.
Call me crazy, but I’m happy when I come home at 2 in the morning and he wakes up so I might have a chance to pull him into our bed for comfort. Him or me? I’m not sure;-)
Or after a long day and a late night I don’t care that he gets up at 7am when I’ve only had 3 hours, in fact I’m smiling…
But the worst is saying goodbye…
Leaving the house and knowing I’ll be gone all day or going away for a weekend or 5 days or however long it is…I mean it’s so crazy I would gladly cross the entire Atlantic, do a show and everything that goes along with it AND return right back home in less than 32 hours just so I don’t miss a moment.
I think that’s what it is… Everything goes so fast, I don’t want to miss a moment… I remember when he was getting his first teeth and I had to go to Europe. I called when I landed and my husband said, “I’m so glad you left before he woke up, he was so miserable today, you would have never left if you saw him like that.” Now don’t get me wrong, I’m BEYOND grateful that it was my husband and my mother that was with him when his little body was so weak and sad, but honestly, I wanted to be the one holding him and cuddling him and telling him it would be ok…. But I was on a plane…
It’s missing those moments that makes it hard.
So saying goodbye has been the difficult part…
Not for him thankfully, I leave and he says, “Bye-bye Momma” and he looks happy, and comfortable, secure and ready to play.
And I end up in the elevator with a lump in my throat!
What a journey… This thing called motherhood, this thing called love….