After my son was born, I was hit with the baby blues. He was my first child and the first months of parenting were filled with a bitter mix of failure and loathing. I felt like I had had a perfectly lovely life and I f*#ked it up with an inconsolable ball of annoyance. The situation was exacerbated by my failure to produce enough milk and his penchant for needing attention when I desperately wanted to be doing anything else. At one low point I fantasized about throwing him off the Martha’s Vineyard Ferry.
Fast forward eight years adding a daughter to the mix…
This weekend my son left for his first week away from home without a parent. My mother invited him for a week of intergenerational overnight camp in northern Minnesota. When my mom suggested the plan we were all excited. How fun for him to spend a week away testing his independence. The idea of a week with only one child to feed, bathe, clean-up after and drive around made me ecstatic. This was in the depths of winter.
Now it is summer and the idea is reality. It turns out that I am remarkably sad that he is gone. Sure things are easier. I don’t have to listen to sibling fighting, I have one less child to cart around and my son’s bed never needs making. But, our house is B-O-R-I-N-G. I feel like my left arm is gone.
I find myself looking longingly at his pictures. When I was folding his socks I felt whimsical about the stains on the bottom of his socks since they represent his joie de vivre running outside shoeless. When he is home that same joie causes me to yell at him about ruining his socks. And this too…I have this habit of sniffing my son’s head. I love the smell. In the summer it is a mix of sunscreen, chlorine, and his sweat. I liken it to the smell of sunshine. Luckily his sister is still here and she has the smell too but half of my sunshine is missing.
What happened to me? I am not sure when or how it happened but at some point I went from being a really annoyed parent to somebody who is mooning over my absent eight-year-old. The good news is that I realized how much I like having my children around while they are still young enough to enjoy having me around. The bad news is that in another ten years my son will leave home and I now expect a major bout of post-post-post partum depression. Luckily this time I will be well rested!
Epilogue
My mom called midway through their week. The good news was that my son was homesick his first night and missed home. The bad news is that he quickly moved past this and has been too busy to call home even once. This does not bode well for my future.