Andy is going camping this weekend with a friend who promises not to talk except when necessary or Andy wants to be talked to (now THAT is a great friend, no?) I can't fully describe how excited Andy is about the trip and I am honestly excited for him.
The farther I get away from despising my role as a parent the more I realize what bad shape I was in back then. This weekend shows me a glimpse of how far I have come because I'm not dreading it. Yes, I have plans out of the house already so that Kevin and I don't get sick of each other but I don't think that negates anything. Even if I didn't have plans out of the house or with other people, I know that I'd survive and wouldn't crumble. That's saying a lot based on how I felt previously.
When Kevin had been with us for about 5 months, I went away for a scrapbooking weekend with some friends. I didn't want to come home. It wasn't that the scrapbooking was so great (I didn't get much done and didn't really like the pages I made) and it wasn't that I wouldn't see all of those friends regularly once we got home... it was just that I didn't want to return to my house and family. My shoulders sagged and my head drooped at the thought of coming home.
In October, I'm going away for another scrapbooking weekend and I expect it will be very different. I expect I'll enjoy being away from the family but that I'll be ok with going back even if I'm not itching to return. And I think that's normal, unlike what I felt before and continue to glide away from as I get more and more used to this thing called parenting.
Enjoy your weekend, Andy. I will enjoy mine.