Letting Go

     Today as we took our morning walk I thought about giving you to another woman in a week and I cried. I cried in front of the man who works on his lawn all day every single day even though it looks the same every single day. I cried in front of the woman getting her paper. In front of the kids playing tennis, the adults playing softball. I cried. Ironically, for the first time since my laser eye surgery I saw the world clearly. My vision was so crisp, it was scary. Cue the perfect song on Pandora about enjoying the simplicity of a moment.

     As I attempted to choke down the lump in my throat and loosen my grasp on the stroller, I realized this was a milestone in life. I cannot keep you under my wing forever. I have to let you go and I want you to know how difficult this is for me. As much as I love my job, I love you more. As much as I hate being away from you, I will love being with you more and more. And although we won't get to enjoy our days together, I promise to make every moment of our mornings, weekends and nights count.
    I need you to understand that one day when the kids talk about their mommies staying home with them that although your mommy couldn't stay home with you, she didn't love you any less. Someone told me they read a statistic about working moms being some of the happiest women in the world and even if this statistic isn't true, I am grasping onto it for dear life. Because sometimes you just have to trust yourself and your decisions in life, even the hard ones.
     One more week, LJ. Let's make it count.