There is nothing worse than watching your son's heart break when leaving for work. As if i did't feel guilty enough, this morning, my son plastered his teary, snotty face to the bay window in hopes that I would get a last glimpse of his tortured soul, turn my car around, run inside and save him from the perils of daycare.
As I drove away, all I could think about was what if he figured out a way to open the window and jump from our first floor balcony desperately chasing after his mother. Yes, its a paranoid thought but then again I havent slept in 3 years, I am entiltled to be paranoid. So I thought about maybe calling "papa" (who was in the shower when I left) to reassure myself that my son was indeed in one piece.
Yet, as I reached the end of my street, I came to my senses. Luca was okay and he would survive the day at daycare. He would play with his little friends and forget all about missing his mommie. I would pick him up in the evening and he would tell me all about the excitement of his day. And even though this was almost always case, I still felt a twinge of motherly guilt for leaving my baby behind and going to work.
But I have to go to work. I have to have some sanity and feel like a part of the adult world. I am so sorry for my son but I have to think in the long run its better for him. If mommie is happy then hopefully it will make him happy. And for me there is nothing more valuable in teh world than to see my babies happy.
The life of a retired Southern Belle raising two Dutchlings in a kingdom far, far away.
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