So, it's been only two days since our not so little man left California, to head back to this land that he now calls "home". It's been two days that I've had to walk into his room to put his freshly washed clothes away into his fire truck labeled drawers. It's been two days that I've walked passed his toy area and completely left it, as he left it. Those two days that have passed means only thirty more until we see our smiley boy again. YAY! ( I hope you can all 'see' my eye roll and hear my sarcasm.) But, on a positive note, Spring Break in California (where it doesn't rain), was a BLAST for the extremely loved six year old.
Ten days ago, my husband and I picked up this brave big kid from the airport. It was the first time that our boy flew 100% by himself. He walked off that plane like a twelve year old. Meanwhile, the adult child, was waving furiously and smiling uncontrollably as his mini triumphantly walked that plane ramp. I want to cry just reliving that moment. We spent most of our days soaking in the delicious sun, doing outside childish things. It was perfect. Everyday. I'd pay millions for it to never end. But the saying is true... "All good things, must come to an end."
In two days, we've gone from parents, to husband and wife. In two days, we've tried to not let emotions take over our day. In two days, we've tried to come to terms with it being a complete month until we see the little man again. One day ago, was especially tough. It was the first time reality hit for our usually smiley boy and the words, "Did you know that (my daycare) still happened over spring break. I think my friends found new best friends because I was in 'Canafornia,' with you guys.." came out in a VERY sad and confused tone. How does one even comfort and make it ok that 'Canafornia' is the new "best friend tearer aparter" and we, his other set of parents are just unbuckling inside because we never could have imagined this for him. For any child, ever.
*How does ANYONE go a month at a time, for the majority of the year, without seeing their little human, not to mention, being actively involved in their child's life AND actually remain sane..?! Please, I'm searching for answers*
It's been two days since our house was filled with unstoppable laughter, cars up the wazoo, farts, burps, fruit roll ups, dirt, sand, hats and bath tub tidal waves, to the tunes of Veggie Tales. It's been 41 days since the Judge ruled that the mini would remain there permanently. It's been one hundred and ninety four days since our previously assigned Judge let this precious soul move 'temporarily.' It's been two hundred and thirty one days since we received the first notice of a move. Two hundred and thirty one of the hardest days of our new marriage and the most emotional two hundred and thirty one days of our thirty years of living.
After two hundred and thirty one unthinkable days, the last two days have at least filled my mind of sweet memories. Folding little clothes, stuffed animals all over the floor of his room, and cars, trucks and Legos that still consume the play area... I'm only mentally just now taking it all in.
And for this moment, I'm leaving our favorite little Mr.'s joys, as is...