I am not a sappy person, or so I would tell you. But as I sit here in Washington, DC fighting the same tears I have been choking back since pumping at 10 minutes to 6 this morning and so ut seems leaving my babies is harder than I want to admit.
Now its not that I don't like to work. I do, and I have discovered that I am not good at not working so rather than volunteer my time into chaos, it makes good sense to get paid for a schedule. Its also not that I don't like what I do. I am for the most part indifferent to my exchange of corporate work for money at this point. And it is certainly not that I don't like DC or travel. In fact if I have to admit it, that's probably first on my list of why I do keep this particular job. But, I can not get over Karsen's little cry yesterday when she got her 4 month shots, or Kennedy laughing out loud at Kayla who insisted on dancing in her white (yes as opposed to black) cat costume.
I guess it just means that somewhere along the way I really did become a mom. A real mom. The kind that will cry as she gets into the car the first time she leaves her babies in the uber capable hands of their dad and nanny and boards a plan where for 36 hours she is a 1 hour and 5 minute plane flight away from every little noise they might make.
Its not like I left little weak premies. Karsen weighed in at the 75th percentile at 14 lbs and 5 oz. With Kennedy at 50th at 13 lbs and 3 oz. Certainly I don't need to prove Kayla's health or independent capability as she moves into 5t-6t clothes and stands a head taller than most of her same age friends. *Not that she always loves on those friends: Evan got bit the other day for hitting her on the playground at school -- which her dad declared good self defense and evan used as solid debate material to prep for his white house run by arguing that he was in the lesser of the wrongs -- but alas, rather than spend my fleeting moments here in DC obsessing about the new boss I have or the mounting inbox or what I am going to wear to the very awesome opportunity for a girls dinner out tonight that I get to sneak in, I am just passing time until I can call home again and not look like a stalker.