We miss him. Okay, I miss him. I am not sure how much an 11 month old can actually understand someone not being there - but in my heart that look of overzealous bliss that happened around 6pm every night when the front door opened was there waiting for the few first days after his dad left.
It's Friday night and the novelty of being solo is beginning to wear off. And we still have another week to go. Our apartment can't really get any cleaner, I have already re-arranged the whole living room and our taxes are sort of being worked on. I will say, I have been extremely productive in his absence.
But today, on the way home from swim class, I drove along the rugged edge of the Pacific Ocean and watched as the spray of mist curled together with the gusting wind which formed a kind of film over the view outside the front of the car window. Short glances into the rear view mirror showed a completely conked out little baby boy - who was heavily resting his sleeping head on the side of his car seat. And then, when it rested into my awareness and I took a deep breath, I started to cry.
I think the hardest part is the extremeness of the distance - not just the geographical distance, but the complete lack of communication. No text messages, no Skype, no emails, no voice mails - nada, for 11 days.
And so, as with anything that can become more painful or uncomfortable when we add the torment of emotion to it, I am going to turn off the computer, light some candles and do my own meditation. Then, I will find some really girly music, maybe even have a grown up-beverage and baby proof the kitchen drawers.
And so looks the life of a temporarily single mom.