


There’s a strange mood in the air at my house. Something’s . . . different. On the surface everything looks the same, but an odd calm has settled. It’s the first time in nearly two years there hasn’t been a child in the house.
We left him at my husband’s parents’ house, where we spent the weekend. He’ll be returned to me on Wednesday, none the worse for wear I’m sure. In fact, from what I hear he’s having a grand time, eating lots of popsicles and enjoying the nearby lake. Not missing Mommy at all, which is a good thing, I suppose. But I miss him terribly.
It’s weird, I know. I leave him four days a week to go to work, and I’m fine with that. But somehow knowing he was only 20 miles away comforted me. Now he’s 200 miles away, and I miss being able to peer in on him while he’s sleeping, to reach down and feel his little chest rise and fall.
I’m planning to use these next few days to Get Stuff Done, to do the things I never seem to fit in to my daily routine: cleaning out my closet, dusting, etc. Keeping busy will have to get me through until my little monkey returns and his happy giggle (or whines, as the case may be) fill my world again.