So this weekend was a big first, it was my son’s first night away from home. Being Canada Day long weekend (and us Canadian’s love any excuse to drink and party) hubby and I thought it would be prime time to “cut the cord” and allow him to spend the night at grandma and grandpa’s. With that came the packing, I really don’t know what we’re going to do in two weeks for camping but a one night stay consisted of two bags and the playpen. There were his favourite stuffies that he HAS to sleep with which include Ducky, Lullaby Lamb, Tigger, and his Polar Bear. Followed by two movies, his bedtime books, his flashcards, two pairs of pj’s, two extra changes of clothes, his laptop, his bottle, some snacks, his blankets, his mobile, and enough diapers for two days.
We dropped off our child whom we had to fight for a hug and goodbye kiss because he was already too interested in grandpa and his new race car, already as we left I felt that cold rush that my baby wasn’t going to be home. Even that evening as we prepped for a hard night of drinking and socializing I still felt that pang that I was going to be away from my child for more than a few hours. I had made my mother promise to call me around 8 so I could talk to him, it took me calling her in the middle of the card game (apparently she was busy) and made her promise again to call once he was asleep. A little after 10 she reported that he was stuffed, played out, and asleep, and with my buzz going I felt relief.
I’m sure I would have had a horrific night if I hadn’t passed out partway through the morning due to drinking more rum and coke than I had since having my child. I was still up at the ungodly hour of 8am and picked him up before the designated time with a smile on my face happy to see him again. I strongly agree with Kat when she told me it was time to cut the cord and I’m sure it’ll be something that happens a little more frequently.