Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Maybe I should rename this...

The Absentee Mom.

I missed a call from my husband...then another from my husband, then the bit's DAYCARE.  So I call back the husband who tells me as calmly as he can that he's at the hospital with little bit in the ER and mumbles something about another kid at her daycare with strep and her having a temperature.

I will admit I didn't hear much past "little bit in the ER" before my brain went into auto-Mommy-panic.  I got up and grabbed my purse, automatically.

And then it hit me.  I can't drive frantically to the hospital and make sure my precious little girl is okay because I'm out here on contract, 1800 miles...at least 25 hours drive, if I go all night...drive.

Then I cried.

I hate feeling so damn helpless.  I hate feeling so damn absent.  I hate missing all her accomplishments, I hate missing my husband, I hate not being HOME.  I want to GO HOME.  I want to hold my little girl, cool her fever with a wet cloth, watch her smile as she tries to figure out a Popsicle.

I can't.  I have to be strong, because my family desperately needs this money.  They desperately need for me to work, and lay the groundwork so that sometime soon, we can be together again, someplace where if Mommy or Daddy loses a job, we won't have to move.

It breaks my heart.  It tears at my soul, and renders my mind a blank, numb slate.

I heard back from my husband...she's got strep.  But he's taking care of her...and things are looking up for things happening so far.

Things will work out.

I just have to be strong.