Going Away Gets Harder

Strange stirrings today.

I am leaving for Portland tomorrow to attend a meeting for a volunteer gig. I will be gone a total of less than two and a half days. Now, I haven't been jet setting around the globe (or, honestly, before Quinn's arrival, but it's not like we haven't been anywhere - Africa, Fiji, Boise...) but have probably been away from my boy a total of less than two weeks.

I was thinking about the first trip I took after he had weaned, at a blessed 20 months; (his idea, thank god, so easy schmeazy). Was gone for two days and enjoyed myself. Yeah, I missed him and worried about him, but knew that he and his Daddy were doing Male Bonding and enjoying all that comes with that. I could live with the fact that his clothes were, most likely, a tad mismatched and perhaps he wore the same socks two days in a row; didn't bother me. In fact, I realize now that it was pretty simple for me - none of that sitcom poop where the mama has to call home every 15 seconds. I was glad to come home, but it was good to be away, too.

But as I'm trying to figure out what the hell to wear to only the second professional event I've been to in two years, (where in bloody hell did I put those pants that don't have that elastic pregnant front panel???) I find that I'm really sad about leaving Quinn. After some sobbiness this afternoon I tried to attribute to upcoming hormonal events, it occurred to me that leaving him now is different than when he was still in that baby-blob and non-verbal stage.

Now he has a little internal life, one that is complicated and fascinating. He thinks about things. Tries to figure them out. Relates one thing to another, and is affected by them. I know that I will really miss all the times during the day that I see his brilliant mind working and am lucky enough to be there to watch the connections taking place. It's more than his cute face - it's really HIM that I'll miss for the whole 60 hours I'm not here.

In addition he now understands that I'm leaving, that I won't be around for a while. I did go with a friend to California in early July, and before I left I told him that "When Mama goes away, she always comes back" and reiterated that after I was home. For this trip he's been talking about my leaving and I have heard him a couple of times chatting with himself, reassuring himself that "Mama always comes back".

It's nice that our awareness is in sync. Does my mother's heart good.

But. I would still rather stay home.