Breaking News: the boy is off for two weeks with his grandparents in Texas.
This is not an uncommon summer situation at the Reynard house. Because we've always lived a distance from our extended families (namely our parents), he's strapped on his backpack, put that unaccompanied minor pouch around his neck, and board a plane by himself to parts (un)known.
In the process, Jeff and I transform into what we were before...sort of. We are now two instead of three. We don't have the constant stream of consciousness of an 8-year-old running through the house. And, frankly, we're a little lost at the beginning.
For example, yesterday after dropping Doodle off at the airport, I came home and took a 4 hour nap. Good at the time...not so good when I wanted to go to bed last night. Jeff was on the computer uninterrupted for that time and beyond...and frankly he seemed bored by the time I got home from my meeting at 9, and wanted to be right-up-next-to-me (it was hot...not a good time for snuggling).
I like this time and hate this time of year. I'm glad Mercutio has a place to go and experience new things, away from me. It gives him a chance to be independent. It gives me a chance to catch my breath (because sometimes being a mom, and a wife, and a breadwinner is tough on my spirit).
It also helps remind me that I am a wife, a second half of a couple, a partner. That sometimes gets lost in the shuffle of the day to day drama of life.
So...we have a few days to get into our groove, enjoy each other, shake off the drama...and miss the boy.
