Today, Tom and I will be headed to my hometown to hang out with my mom and dad.
(Also, it is my mom’s birthday today. Woo! I love you, mom! Sorry this post is about my fear as a mother and Tom — but since you’re awesome, I bet you’re okay with it. And since you’re my mom, I’m sure you’re not surprised. Kisses!)
Tom and I are going to spend the night with my parents, and then tomorrow Kev will meet us and then…
We will leave Tom.
(I’m pausing so you can let those words sink in.)
Does that scare you at all?!
Because it scares me to death.
We will be leaving Tom with my parents for the weekend while Kev and I go galavanting in warm, sunny Florida.
Now, I’m not worried because he will be with my parents. I think we can all agree my parents are completely awesome at raising a wonderful, well-adjusted, thoughtful child.
I mean…have you met my sister?
Let me just say: By the second child they knew what they were doing.
(And…sometimes I’m nice, so they did an okay job there, too. I think.)
So Tom should be no sweat.
I’m not worried about them and Tom. What I’m worried about goes something like this:
1. What if he thinks I’m leaving him FOREVER?!
2. What if he thinks I’m DEAD?!
3. What if he thinks I’m NEVER COMING BACK?!
4. What if he thinks I DON’T LOVE HIM?!
5. What if he realizes my parents are quite awesome and when I come back he clings to them for dear life, refusing to come to his OWN MOTHER?!
I realize some of those seem the same, but I think of them differently.
I think maybe a normal person should be kinda excited about a weekend alone with her hub.
And I TOTALLY am.
It’s just that right now, that’s about 3%.
I’m 97% scared Tom will hate me, mourn me, get over me and not want to come back to me.
You think when I get down to Florida with my hub, and our friends, and the beach, and the alcohol that may be around that I’ll forget my child thinks I’m dead and just enjoy myself?
I’ll let you know.