10.21.11

This week's evenings proved to be too long.


I cried too many times, and it wasn't out of exhaustion or stress.


Quite simply, I missed my son.


Too many nights I walked in as he was crawling into bed. I was able to read him a story or two, cover him in kisses, and turn off his light. 


But I didn't get to do afternoon snack time, and I didn't get to build block towers, and I didn't get to put puzzles together, or during dinner ask him who he played with, or what songs he learned in music class.


So when I picked him up today, I didn't want to let go, so much so that I lugged his 35 pounds in my arms as we picked up a few things at Target. He gladly let me sweat it out, snuggling in as much as he could.


I think he missed me, too.


I had a nice quiet day at work, and I was ready for a decent workout, but the thought of him spending more time in someone else's care wasn't going to work for me tonight. The therapy I needed was a healthy dose of Will.


So I picked up a few Servatti's treats, Greg picked up pizza, we watched a bit of Toy Story, put together puzzles, built block towers, and played guitar.


And now it's almost time to read books again. I'll kiss that sweet face goodnight, take stuffed animal attendance, refill his water one more time, and I'll turn off the light.


And I won't cry.