I leave the house. Almost always in the same way.
Smoochies in the morning from the big guy and the little guy.
The little guy every now and then withholds, because he knows it’ll prolong the leaving. It’s a game. I know it, he knows it. Sometimes I wish he would play it better but I know I need to leave.
I have commitments, an energy that needs to spent outside the house. He wouldn’t like me at home all day long. And, we do better this way.
When I come home, he comes running to see me. He’s gotten into that. This big long run. The further away he is, the more speed he can get. He likes that. And then he does the big lunge. The implication being ‘what took you so long!?”. But I know that during the day, he didn’t really miss me. He had fun and played and engaged with other people and other things than what we do together.
I know he sees my eyes telling him how much I love seeing him and that I missed him. And even if it did feel like days, I was back. I used to pray that I would have this feeling when I became a mother and now I do.