6 Weeks and Counting

Boy has been gone for one month today. Yeah, we've talked on the phone twice. Facebook has been very helpful for communication, but you know, it's not the same. It's not like I can drive over and see him.

The strange thing is that I've been pretty cool with the entire off continent for ten weeks thing.

Until today.

Today, because it's Wednesday? or it rained? or whatever ?  I miss him.

And I've got six long weeks to go.

The hard part is that I don't want to be a pest. I don't wan to be that demanding mother who guilts and railroads her kids into bending to her will, regardless of their age.

I don't want to smother him.

I refrain from posting on his Facebook page how much I miss him. I try to suck up the emotion in my voice (which, according to Girl I totally FAIL at) so that he doesn't hear that I miss him.

But darn it! I MISS HIM!

He hasn't lived at home in nearly four years, so it's not the empty nest thing. I don't know what it is, but I've got six weeks to deal with it.

I tried a distraction at Christmas that ultimately failed. I won't be doing the same thing at New Years. What's a mom to do?

And what if, at some point in time, he decided to live outside the US? It could happen! His line of work could take him anywhere in the world.

Then I'd never see my grandchildren (who don't exist at this point in time). I won't be able to bond with his lovely wife (of which he doesn't have one currently). How can I bake this kid a cheesecake if he lives in Africa?

No one tells you as they place that tiny infant in your arms at the hospital that the years will fly and that ungrateful, selfish child will grow up and start a life of their own.

So selfish!

I suppose it's better than him loafing on my sofa, eating our food, and playing video games.

Sigh.

Six weeks.

Just six more weeks.

Then I'll cry when he comes home and he'll laugh at me. He always laughs when I cry.

Rotten kid.