Today is the first day without my bug. It started rather early when T’s alarm sounded for him to wake. I had every intention of falling right back asleep and taking full advantage of the morning silence.
I tried and tried. Tossed and turned, fluffed my pillows, sprawled out in the center of the bed….
Sleep did not come to me. All that came to me was a frown and the urge to climb into my little boy’s bed.
I fought this urge for a while, but the longing to smell the scent of my little guy was far too strong to resist. I made my way to his bed.
I laid there. Then, out of nowhere, I felt warm wet liquid on the sides of my face, my nose started running. What? No Lacey. Stop.
Yeah, I wept. I didn’t cry. I wept. These were tears of sorrow. Everything inside me wanted my little boy home in his bed.
Seriously, what is my problem? This is supposed to be a relaxing, month-long break from motherhood. I am supposed to be drinking a mimosa with breakfast, basking in the hot summer sunlight, reading books and foremost, SLEEPING. I miss sleeping so much. And yet, here I am. In my son’s bed, weeping on his pillow and longing to touch his cute flushed cheeks as he sleeps.
Oh how precious he looks when he sleeps…. My heart is cracking.
I finally got a grip on myself and decided to find a distraction. I put on some obnoxiously loud music and started cleaning. It was 7:55am and I was cleaning. SERIOUSLY LACE! YOU ARE PATHETIC.
I cleaned furiously. I sang loudly. I cried intermittently. I brewed a pot of Starbucks French Roast.
I went around scrubbing this, sweeping up that, putting away dishes, throwing laundry around all the while a perma-scowl invaded my should-be peaceful face. Boo. This month is gonna suck balls. Why did I think this month was going to be the best month of the year? I was utterly mistaken.
But as I pouted, the smell of my favorite Starbucks roast took over the house as I cleaned. I started taking deep breaths, drinking in the aroma. Mmm…time for a coffee break I thought. I took my coffee to the living room and started sipping. I continued to smell the beautiful dark roast glory, tasting the righteous nectar of the Caffeine Gods with each long and leisurely drink.
Wait a minute. This coffee is still hot and I’ve almost finished the cup. I smiled. I put my cup down on THE SEAT CUSHION of the couch. I got up to check the quiche in the oven. I came back, the cup hadn’t spilled. I picked it up, drank it. The last sip was still hot and filled with victory!
I miss my son and my heart is cracked. But my scowl is gone and I am on my third (uninterrupted) cup of Starbucks.
So it might be small but I have found something worth enjoying out of this whole separation.
DELICIOUS HOT COFFEE!
I’m hoping to find more little pleasures to enjoy in order to mask the sorrow of the biggest thing I enjoy being absent.
***I hope all my American friends enjoyed their Day of Independence yesterday. Mine was a mixed bag of balls, but the fireworks at Niagara Falls were breathtaking.***