It's Good (and Bad) to be Missed

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Each week now I have two days where I have to go to work in person. Most of my days are remote, home with my son, but August 21 marked my first day that wasn't telecommuting since March 18. It was almost like maternity leave ending all over again (emotionally at least). But Baby is older now. He's able to last longer without my milk. And he's always been a social baby, so he has no problem hanging out with my parents and brothers while I'm working instead of Hubby and me. Still, I marked the occasion by dancing with my son just as I did before, and giving him that first every haircut.

Now it's been three weeks of leaving my son a couple days a week for work. I say goodbye with big hugs in parents' driveway and then he sits in my mom's arms, watching me reverse onto the street without a smile or a frown. It isn't until I start to turn the car that he suddenly gives a great big wave. Which makes me smile. I don't know it I would be able to leave if he started crying instead.

Just today, though, I felt a mix of sadness to see him sad with a bit of a warm heart when I learned he really does sometimes miss me when I'm gone. It wasn't when I left for work (thank goodness), but right before I came home.

I was one street away from my house, stopped at a stoplight, when my mom called me via Facetime. I had answered using my steering wheel buttons, not realizing that the call was more than audio. Of course I couldn't video chat while driving, but the phone in the cupholder next to me was propped just enough for me to briefly catch a glimpse of my son smiling as he briefly caught a glimpse of me before the light turned green and my mom hung up. I later learned that after the call ended my son had the saddest face--lower lip out threatening to cry--until my dad put on videos of me and my husband dancing at our wedding in order to distract him. He loves to dance and he loved seeing Mommy and Daddy nearby. Finally, I reached my house, quickly showered off any germs, and then arrived back at my parents' house to pick up my son and give him the biggest hug.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, but returns are the best. And I'm glad to know he wasn't sad for long.

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