"Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need to know of hell." ~Emily Dickinson, Parting
I had myself a fun mommy day on Saturday; I met up with some friends to discuss a book, then went shopping with another friend for baby toys at our local thrift store. It was a splendid afternoon of not toting Maeve around with me.
Maeve did not see it that way.
She cried from the moment she woke up from her nap until I walked in the door. I was hoping she'd enjoy a little quality time with Daddy, but not so much. Dad was not Mom. This appeared to be the only factor in her equation. In fact, I heard from DH that she seemed to calm down, then started crying again when something reminded her of me - like her "cd player" playing Rubber Duckie. Aww.
Depending on her mood these days, Maeve will stay with her dad or a babysitter just fine, or it will be sheer hell for her and all in the vicinity. It's a normal phase in her development, but it isn't fun for anyone, and it certainly doesn't make me want to go places without her, even though I must, for my own sanity's sake. Separation anxiety makes it sound tame. I'd call it separation misery.
But it does feel good, way down deep in my heart, that she misses me; that I'm not just a walking aid and food dispenser. I'm a person and she'd rather be with me than not. I guess it's a no-brainer, but it still makes me happy that she likes to be around me.
|This is my mom. I claimed her with cookie goo.|