You know, you give 9 months of your life to them while they are gestating in your body, then you spend hours pushing them from your body in a manner that I still, in spite of having done it twice, have trouble believing can actually happen....you invest untold amounts of money in diapers, then baby proofing equipment, and books, and toys and clothes...and that's before they even go to kindergarten...they grow, they evolve into beings that have their own thoughts and feelings, they begin to move away from you, and once you have invested all that money and time...not to mention your heart and a huge part of your very soul...what do they do?
They leave you.
That's the thanks you get.
In a matter of what seems like minutes, they are grown people going out to lead their own lives. Who the hell decided this was the way to go?
This weekend we drove to Milwaukee...and back...to take the belongings of my Big One and my Bonus One to their new home. Seventeen hundred miles in one weekend...now that's love...and I did very well. Until I hugged him before we left. Then I couldn't help it. Tears. Everywhere. Yep, I couldn't help it, they spilled over in spite of myself. And, when mine started, so did the Little One's.
Now, never mind that the kids were coming back to Lexington, and then to Bowling Green for a bit before they move up there for school...and, never mind that I do want my kids to grow up and be whole people who lead happy and productive lives...and never mind that I really adore my Bonus One...
The child that I carried for nine months inside of me, that I labored through three and a half hours of pain to bring forth into this world...(yeah, yeah, I know, nothing to complain about there), gave up years of my life to be there for him, tried so hard to teach him right from wrong, and watched him grow into this man who is ready to fly out on his own...that child is eight and a half hours away from me.
This is a very strange place to be. I love and adore him, and am so proud of him...I really couldn't wish for a better son had I been given the opportunity to specify all of the characteristics I wanted in one. And I am so glad he has someone who "gets" his quirkiness, and whose own quirkiness compliments his, and who seems as devoted to him as he is to her, to make this journey with. Their life will be full and rich and wonderful, and I could wish for no more for him...and yet, I cannot describe how my heart feels to have him so far away.
This most definitely isn't the worst thing that can happen, it isn't even a bad thing, really it's a wonderful thing...so why is it strangely painful?
This gets better, right?