What A Weekend!

My son got to go on his very first Easter Egg Hunt on Saturday. He would have gone on one last year, but with the rotavirus and the hospitalization, we missed Easter. He was too cute with his basket and the eggs. He opened each egg and dumped it into his basket before moving on to the next one. Precious. :) After the hunt was over, the church had a petting zoo and he got to feed baby goats. Again, that was a first. We then went to lunch with our friends who invited us to the hunt. Mmm… Chuy’s… We had a really good day together and on the way home, my two-and-a-half-year-old proceeded to serenade me with such songs as "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" "A, B, C’s" and "The Itsy, Bitsy Spider."

Where has the time gone? I was lying down in bed last night, tossing and turning, my mind spinning with all the changes on our horizon and I felt sad. In fifteen days, I’ll have been back to work full-time for exactly one year. One year. I have enjoyed getting out and about every day, interacting with adults, contributing to society, etc, but I also missed so much! So of course I have some residual guilt centered around all of that. Am I being a good Mommy? Does my son really get enough time with me? Do I play with him enough? At the end of the day, do I have meaningful interactions with him or do I spend more time sitting on the couch, watching TV, and unwinding when I get home? I’d like to believe that I’m the "Perfect Mother" all of the time and that I always say the right things, do the right things, and never lose my temper or show frustration, but I know that is not the case. I could blame the job on it, but I know that I wasn’t perfect prior to the job, so that can’t be it. I just want so much for my child to grow up and remember his childhood as safe, secure, fun, and loving. I also want to freeze some of these moments and keep them forever.

I suppose I’m rambling this afternoon, but it can’t be helped. Today (and last night) I am full to bursting with all of these random thoughts and loving feelings that they are just spewing out in a choppy mess. It happens.