Missing You

August 15th, 2010

BlogHer glow aside, I really left out the most important part of it all — that of leaving Sam for the first time.

Which. Um.

You guys? I was fine. I was … fine. I was FINE. I mean, mostly fine. And by that I mean I wasn’t spending every second pining for her. It was a relief, and it was also horrible. I felt a mixture of giddiness and guilt for feeling this way. I missed her terribly, of course, but I’d be flat-out lying if I said there weren’t moments when I was nearly drunk with the freedom of being able to go places without a small person. I could ride! On an escalator! Without a stroller! I stayed out — alone — past MIDNIGHT some nights! I mean, not ALONE-alone, but without the concern of being home for a baby who would be getting up as the dawn cracked across the horizon.

It was kind of amazing.

Sam was with my parents for two reasons — one, Adam recently started a new job, and time off is kind of not the best thing to do right away, plus he doesn’t really have any yet; and two, I grew up an hour and a half outside New York City, and I was wonderfully, happily comforted by the idea of having Sam close enough that I could be there to sniff her head within minutes, not multiple hours, should something go wrong. And obviously, my parents rule.

I was away from home for eight days — four of which were before BlogHer — to give my parents time to get Sam acquainted with them as her primary caregivers in my absence. Away! From home! And while Adam deserves props for taking a week off from his family (yes, he was well rested, but he was also lonely, as apparently he really likes us), you guys: my parents. My parents are saints.

In the days leading up to the conference, they were … well, amazing isn’t quite the word. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so loved. They treated me — and my daughter — like princesses, and I hate that phrase, but there’s no other way to say it. It was really, really special. I slept past seven almost every day, because my dad was nearly downright OFFENDED if he wasn’t the one to get Sam out of her crib. I learned this the hard way, by getting her out of bed one morning and bringing her to see my dad in his study. His face was one of abject horror.

“But … but … I brought the monitor out here! I am DISAPPOINTED! Jonna, she couldn’t have made a peep! I had my ear to that thing! I wanted to get her up!”

And he did. He also made her (and me!) the most delicious meals imaginable, and more than once, he and my mom promised to get her up after her nap while I did things like go to stores! ALONE! And my mom! She slipped in so seamlessly that one night, after much hand-wringing by me, she put her to bed (BED!), right in front of my face. My daughter seemed to barely notice, frankly, that’s how skilled of a nana my mom is.

It was … well, it was something, and it turns out that was something I really needed. Truth be told, in the last seventeen months, we haven’t had a babysitter. I hadn’t been away from my kid for more than three, four hours TOPS since she was born. Strangely, these are the side effects of a screamy infant. You’re so used to being trapped, positive that no one else can handle your child’s misery quite like you, and before you know it, you’re almost two years into this gig, your kid is no longer difficult, and yet you still haven’t had the luxury of a night to yourself.

When I finally (and reluctantly, I must add) left, my dad sent nightly emails packed with the events of the day, and good man alive, did my kid have fun. Swimming! Farmer’s markets! Playtime with my nephews! Donuts! Cookies! Ice cream!

I don’t even know what to say. I don’t know how to ever thank them, and I’ve been staring at a blank thank-you note for a week, positive that words won’t even capture how lucky I felt, how happy I was to have them, how much I needed that time, and how much I appreciate everything they’ve done for me.

Thanks, Mom & Dad.

****

This weekend, we went to Davis Farmland again, and man, if you’re a Bostonian or a Metrowester and beyond, you must go. It’s like Disney, but smaller and more, uhh, farmy. In other words, nothing like Disney at all. But it never feels crowded — even on a busy weekend — and they have animals roaming free (pygmy goats! Jacob sheep! Baby goats and calves!) and you can just let your kid wander without fear of them getting into anything they shouldn’t, for it’s ALL kid-friendly. And hot damn, their staff is awesome.

Plus, they have a splash park, which my new-thing-phobic kid surprisingly loves. And you know, for a kid who is terrified of new things, I’m surprised and grateful that she loves animals so much, though I will concede she could use a little MORE fear in this area. Kid is afraid of nothing, provided it has four legs and a tail. Nothing.

Happy Monday!

*John Waite, before he lost his mind, invested in Aquanet and joined Bad English

Entry Filed under: Beeber McSteebs