Well, I did one of the hardest things that any mom has to do.
I left my baby overnight for the first time.
My husband and I left Alexander with my parents so that we could enjoy a nice night out for our anniversary. No big deal, right? WRONG…it’s a huge deal. This is yet another thing that I didn’t understand before my son was born. I knew moms who didn’t leave their kid until he or she was 3 or even 4 and I, deep down, thought that was ridiculous. Turns out, not so much.
I tried to reason it out…my parents are crazy about him and would give him even more attention than we do…he goes to bed insanely early and wouldn’t even know if we came back to get him…we weren’t going far at all and should anything happen, we would be able to get to him in ten minutes, flat. It all made sense in my head. But, in my heart, I just felt selfish. It wasn’t as if I was leaving him to go in the hospital or to take care of an urgent family problem or attend a funeral. No, I was leaving him purely so I could enjoy a night out. Surely this was wrong and bad mommying defined.
Before we dropped him off, I cuddled Alexander extra close. I told him that I loved him and that we would be back for him. I told him that I would miss him. I told him not to cry. And as we climbed back into our car with an empty car seat, I felt sad.
Even though we had a great time, we were so ready to see him the next morning. Was he excited to see us? Not so much. He barely looked up from the new toy his grandparents had bought him. And, when he did deign to acknowledge us, it was casual, off-hand, almost as if he was saying, “Oh, hey…did you guys go somewhere?”
There is nothing like being appreciated.
I left my baby overnight for the first time.
My husband and I left Alexander with my parents so that we could enjoy a nice night out for our anniversary. No big deal, right? WRONG…it’s a huge deal. This is yet another thing that I didn’t understand before my son was born. I knew moms who didn’t leave their kid until he or she was 3 or even 4 and I, deep down, thought that was ridiculous. Turns out, not so much.
I tried to reason it out…my parents are crazy about him and would give him even more attention than we do…he goes to bed insanely early and wouldn’t even know if we came back to get him…we weren’t going far at all and should anything happen, we would be able to get to him in ten minutes, flat. It all made sense in my head. But, in my heart, I just felt selfish. It wasn’t as if I was leaving him to go in the hospital or to take care of an urgent family problem or attend a funeral. No, I was leaving him purely so I could enjoy a night out. Surely this was wrong and bad mommying defined.
Before we dropped him off, I cuddled Alexander extra close. I told him that I loved him and that we would be back for him. I told him that I would miss him. I told him not to cry. And as we climbed back into our car with an empty car seat, I felt sad.
Even though we had a great time, we were so ready to see him the next morning. Was he excited to see us? Not so much. He barely looked up from the new toy his grandparents had bought him. And, when he did deign to acknowledge us, it was casual, off-hand, almost as if he was saying, “Oh, hey…did you guys go somewhere?”
There is nothing like being appreciated.
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