*sniff, sniff* BWAAAAHHH HAAAAA HAAAA

As I sit here typing, I keep blinking to hold the tears at bay. My boy, my buddy, our son, has left us. He went on a THREE DAY FIELD TRIP AWAY FROM HIS MOTHER! He's leaving Michael behind, too, but Michael never carried Hunter in his womb. Michael never felt him kick his intestines around. Michael never went through hours of labor, after-birth pains, postpartum emotions, and engorgement, all to bring about the life of this child. They'll be ice skating, visiting the state capital, going to an indoor water park, eating out, visiting a historic mansion, a science museum, and an old but still in use army fort. WITHOUT MEEEEEEEEE. But it wasn't going to be that way originally. I was one of the lucky ones whose name got drawn out of a hat to be a chaperon. (Spell check says that's the right way to spell it. I think there needs to be an 'e' on the end, but whatever.) I had it all lined up. Babysitters for the girls, pick ups and drop offs so that Miguel wouldn't have to worry about locating the various homes where the girls would be staying. I even planned on selling my collection of things-I-don't-use-but-someday-might-need at our citywide garage sale next weekend to cover my cost. But, alas, it was not to come to pass. You see, the thing about being a mother is that while you want to be there for one child, you also feel compelled to be there for the other children. And while I know my friends would have taken care of my baby girls and would have done so happily, (they were rooting for me to go too, so that I could keep an eye on their children) there was still this nagging voice in the back of my head that said, "You're going to leave your 2 year old? For how many days?! With someone who is not her mother?!? What kind of a monster are you?!?!?" And all those extra punctuation and question marks were literally right there. I could feel them puncturing and questioning in my brain. Reiterating the horrible-ness of my decision to abandon my toddler.

Not that I don't want Hunter to go and have all these amazing experiences, it's just that he's having them without me. It's something we'll never be able to share. He's growing up. He's unraveling the apron strings one thread at a time. Michael, bless his heart, tried to make me feel better. "This is a good thing. He's learning independence. He's a big boy. You'd probably just end up embarrassing him anyway, so it's best you don't go. I mean have you ever watched yourself on ice skates? See what I mean?"

So, I made the decision to stay home and take care of the one(s) who needed me the most. The one(s) who cannot as of yet prepare meals, wash laundry, entertain themselves, tuck themselves in, and snuggle to sleep without me. (Michael would be included on this list. He's a little stressed right now.)

To make matters worse, when I went to the school to bring Corrine an extra pair of pants (she spilled her milk during snack time today--see? I suppose I really was needed here) another attached parent said to me, "You don't want to know what your boy said just as they were leaving."
You're right. Don't tell me. TELL ME.
"He said, 'I miss my mommy.' Just like that. He actually said the word 'Mommy'. I thought it was sweet."

Sweet. He's right. It was sweet. Oh, but what's that? That smooshed trampled upon thing lying underneath the tires of the school bus? That? Oh, nothing. It's only my HEART.