July, 2010:

Every summer my Little Man spends time with his two grandmothers. He generally spends one or two weeks with my mom and another two weeks with his paternal grandmother. In years past, these weeks have not been consecutive. This year, however, they are. At first I was giddy with the kid-free possibilities. A whole month to enjoy adult things. To be able to sleep a little later since I didn’t have to drop him off at his dads or at karate in the morning before work. To be able to stop and do a little shopping on the way home from work since I wouldn’t have to rush to pick him up. To be able to sleep with my bedroom door open, thereby making the bedroom at least 10 degrees cooler. To be able to go to the bathroom without having him knock on the door to ask me some silly question. To be able to go out with friends and not have to worry about a sitter. To just be.

School ended and the time for his extended vacation approached and I packed up his little suitcase with glee. But now? He’s been gone two weeks and I can’t stand it. How am I going to survive the next two weeks?? I miss that Little Man soooooo much. He is having the time of his life frolicking in the Smoky Mountains in North Carolina. He’s been hiking, 4-wheeling, white water rafting, rock climbing, swimming every day. I don’t think he’s had time to miss me. He says he does when we speak on the phone, but I remember my summers with my grandparents and those were some of the most fun times ever. I don’t begrudge his good time. I WANT him to have a good time. I wouldn’t give up those summers with my grandparents for anything in the world. I want the same for him. The memories he’s making now will last a lifetime. He’s growing up so fast and I want him to enjoy every single second of his childhood. But I still miss him. A piece of me is missing and it will return home in 2 more weeks.

Just thinking that I still have two entire weeks before he returns weighs on my heart. Of course, ask me after he’s been back for a couple weeks and I’ll probably be ready to ship him off for another few days! But certainly not another month!

I started my blog as a place to get my thoughts and feelings out of my head and onto paper, virtual though it may be. Writing is cathartic. It’s a wonderful outlet. Except when it isn’t. The catch 22 with having a public blog is that sometimes you have to censor yourself, or shut yourself up completely because of people that read your blog. I’m not talking about the few people I don’t know personally who read my blog. Rather, the people in my daily life that read it.

I’ve got so many thoughts rambling around that I really want to get out. Need to get out. Normally, this is where I would come to let them out. This time, however, I can’t do that. It’s one thing to reveal my personal issues to the world. I make a conscious decision on what I allow the world to see. I have to be respectful, however, of the people in my life and what they might or might not want revealed about them on my blog. When those two issues collide, it leaves me in a quandary. I want to write, but I don’t want to violate any trust in those I love.

I want to scream and shout and let my fingers fly. But I can’t. So this is me writing about not writing.