Thursday, April 29, 2010

Back Home

Last week was trying. Mostly in good ways, but I've decided it's probably not healthy - mentally or physically - to be that busy. Which is ironic, considering that's how I spent my high school and college years.

I'm not sure how, but I made it through last week. It was a bit of an emotional roller coaster, to say the least.

DS is teething something major. I think his molars are coming in, though he won't let me look and bites me if I try to get a feel. That led to a rather sleepless night last Sunday (before my trip), which led to both of us passing out around 7pm on Monday night. So I got nothing done that evening. Tuesday and Wednesday night were meetings, and I got home at 10:30 and 11:00 pm, respectively. Thursday night was departure night! My flight didn't leave until Friday morning, but I wasn't driving and the ladies who were lived 20 mins away, and closer to the airport. It would be a bit much to expect to be picked up at 4:30 am just so I cold hold DS for a few hours more. Didn't stop the tears, though.

Let me say that I am not a crier. No offense to those who are, but I tend to keep my emotions in check and hate the thought of being seen as "weak." A pride issue more than anything, but I'm working on it. Regardless, I was bawling like a baby when I left home Thursday night. I barely slept that evening and spent a marathon day traveling on Friday.

California itself was a blast. Everyone was really cool, and I had a lot of fun. And a lot of drinks. Really took me back to my college days (not that I was a boozehound, but I knew how to party). And, as sad as it is, being drunk each night certainly helped me sleep, instead of laying awake worried about DS.

We got back Sunday evening. He was in tears on seeing me, and spent about 2 hours firmly attached to my breasts. He had refused any bottles or sippy cups of milk while I was gone, so he was making up for it with a vengeance. And that made me very happy, though I can't tell you how sore I was the first part of this week. It was almost (almost) as bad as nursing a newborn again. But the emotional joy makes up in spades for the physical pain. I know which one is temporary, and which one will be with me forever.


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