Wish I was there.
I haven't seen E in 23 hours. Every time we leave her with someone overnight...and I can count the number of times we've done it on one hand...it seems to get harder.
The first time was last April when we went to Vegas. Being surrounded by other couples who had also abandoned their offspring, unlimited quantities of free alcohol and incessant bright, shiny loudness was a fairly effective analgesic. We made it home relatively unscathed, as runaway parents go.
Then there were a couple of quick overnighters around the time of our move to Ottawa. They weren't too bad on account of their brevity, but the drive away from and back to her were riddled with thoughts of head-on collisions and roadside tragedies.
In May she went camping with her grandparents, and I came the closest I've been to aborting mission, simply because I missed her.
And now. Right now I imagine my sidekick is entertaining her grandma with bathtime shenanigans, urging grandpa to extricate himself from the comfort of his chair to Watch This! or Look At Me! And I'm here, 189km away, sitting on the deck, watching Ralph lick himself. I should have a mojito. That might fill the void. Of course it would help if my husband would come back from his stupid dinner with his stupid resident friends at their stupid conference. I'm not invited. The one night I could actually go. But don't feel too badly for me. J and I are going out for an anniversary dinner tomorrow night, by which time I will have been without my daughter for 47.5 hours and will have approximately 16.5 hours remaining until our reunion. So I have something to look forward to.
Believe it or not, I'm not one of those moms who lives solely for her child and spends each minute of each day positively immersed in all things juvenile, never needing a break or a drink or a deep breath. That's not me. I get excited when I think about these dalliances with childlessness. I turn off the alarm, I get last-minute facials, I eat chocolate out in the open. But, for some reason, I also spend a growing portion of each day desperately missing my baby. Because she is awesome. And absence does, in fact, make the child awesomer.
Today E went berry picking with grandma and grandpa, and I have the photographic evidence to prove that - at least at one point - she was alive and enjoying herself. I forced myself not to call, just in case. I will call tomorrow. And the next day I will hug her so tightly that she will beg me to get back in the car and drive away quickly. Until then, I will do my best to enjoy this side of the fence.