Oooo look I’m in the reflection. Best. Place. Ever
I can’t believe I am doing this.
Right now I am feeling a mix of excited and traumatised which are two really weird emotions to be feeling at. the. same. time.
As I type this I am sipping on a steaming hot cup of coffee and eating what I think must be the world’s best bacon and egg roll (it has hollandaise on it people). To top it all off this is all taking place ringside to what is arguably one of the best views in the world: the airport.
Yup, the airport.
Some people like mountains, others like the sea, but me baby, I like the airport. I’m not sure what it is that stirs me so but it goes straight to my soul. It’s not just that I’m excited about going away. Airports rock my world even if I’m just dropping folks off or picking them up. Yeah I know. I’m weird like that.
Best every bacon and egg muffn
For me, the airport represents a world of possibilities. It reminds me that the little plot I’m currently occupying is just that, a teeny tiny little plot and not the centre of the universe after all. It refreshes and invigorates me and gives me a thirst for life.
We actually live on the flight path for the local airport so I get to see planes flying over on a regular basis. I LOVE it. Every single one of them makes me smile and I don’t find them to be a bother at all.
Anyway I’m faffing on about airports when what I really wanted to talk about is the fact that I’m going on a holiday (woohoo!) but that it involves me being away from monkey for 2 whole weeks (boo).
I think it’s pretty fair to say that emotionally I’m like an unstable explosive at the moment. Freaking traun wreck. For the past few days I’ve been racing between feeling excited to see my brother and my friends to feeling traumatised about leaving my monkey. Boing, boing, back and forth, I’ve been picking up quite a pace.
I want these in grown up size please.
I left in the early hours this morning so we had to do a pretend departure for Monkey last night. I even put my bag in the car to make it seem more real. He’s a cluey kid and wouldn’t have been easily fooled. He’d watched me pack and we’d been talking all day about mummy going on a plane and him staying with Oomah (my mum) and Didee (my aunt). We prepped him so well that he barely batted an eyelid when I left. I was trying so hard to give him a big squeezy hug and he just pushed me away and said “I stay Oomah. Bye, Mummy”.
So good. And sad. But good. And a relief.
Won’t be needing one of these baby rooms for 2 weeks. That should make me happy but instead it made me cray.
I thought I’d cry at that point but I didn’t. The whole thing just felt really surreal. Plus I think I’ve had a mammoth amount of adrenaline coursing through my body this past 24 hours. Kinda makes it hard to feel things.
The tears came though. As I snuck out of the house this morning to get my airport transfer I felt like a naughty schoolgirl sneaking out to see her boyfriend. Pump, pump went the adrenaline. Once on the bus I started to catch up on my blog reading. I started reading this post by one of my blogging friends about the earthquake in her home town in the Phillipines last week (they’ve had thousands of aftershocks – weird) and promptly burst into big silent tears when I got to the bit where she is worrying about her son. It brought all of my fears to the surface and all of a sudden where I had been otherwise numb there was the biggest most overwhelming feeling ever. It was like someone was sucking the breath out of me and all I could think was What have I done?.
Well what I’ve done is leave Monkey with people who love him who are also very competent at looking after children. When my mum and aunt (who have raised 5 children between them) return home at the end of the week Monkey will go and stay with his dad, a very competent and loving father. It will all be ok. We will Skype and he will see me and we’ll blow kisses and it will all be fine. It’s not the moon, it’s just North America and worst comes to worst I can be back in 24 hours. I’m not THAT far away.
Besides, as I keep reminding myself, he’s 2. He will not even remember this when he is older.
So I put my head back and practised my deep breathing. Things were going to be ok.
And hey, I can’t say I’m not excited about two weeks of sleep ins. I mean, come on, I’m no fool. It’s the bomb.