I am leaving for a business trip. I have to be away for 3 days. It is the first time since i became a mom.
Here’s my fears:
1. I fear he will terribly miss me. Of course, him.
2. That no one will be able to replace me in those small things only a mom can do. YEah, right. We tell ourselves lots of stories, don’t we?
3. #FOMO. Fear Of Missing Out. I do not want to miss a thing. Not a small moment with my little baby. And i want to be here in case of a catastrophe. Because if anything has to happen, it will happen while you are away.
3bis. That my plane crashes. I love traveling, i loved flying, but since i got pregnant i have this new fear to cope with. They say it will go away… together with the weight… let’s hope.
Then, i put aside my worries and
1. prepare my bag, unexpectedly empty! better this way, i will have more space for shopping!
2. give precise instructions to daddy – who looks at me like i am giving an astrophysics lesson in a cinema hall before the projection of Rambo 45.
Then i realize he know he needs all these details, because until 5 minutes ago he did not even know where to find cereals. But most of all, i need it to be reassured on my duties as a mom. Because you want it or not, guilt is there for you. Always.
3. I leave. Without telling anyone. Yes, because as i tell people (my parents, family…) everybody just builds on your guilt: “and the baby? how does he do”? .. “he has a dad, you know?”…
During my time away, the nanny and dad update me through pictures of the mostbeautifulbabyintheworld. And the third day of survival, at the 40th picture of a smiling kid, guilt disappears and leaves place to pride of having reached independence (kidding) and genuine willingness to revert home!
I still have 2 hours before leaving, and i decide to walk in the sunny streets of London.
PArtly chatting with my cousin on a bench in covent garden, partly shopping.
But not the usual shopping, i come back with a baby pijama, and another one even nicer. A couple of books for kids … and another couple. There is nothing to do. English books are much nicer than italian ones.
The best part is my baby’s expression when i come back home, enter the door, and he looks at me like if that was the best thing that could ever happen.
It was worth it, just for this moment.
There is nothing more to add: this is the best love story that exist. Would be a movie, would end here.
But i always wondered: and afteR? what happens?
And then you go back to usual routine…
Ma io mi son sempre chiesta, e poi? cosa succede poi?
Eh, poi si torna nella routine. Inizi a parlare con persone intorno a te, e ti fanno tutti la stessa domanda:
“sei andata via 3 giorni? e con il bimbo come hai fatto?”
“eh l’ho abbandonato, e’ grande ormai”
“ma come, ma lo hai lasciato da solo”
“no, ha un papa'”
“e il papa’ l’hai lasciato da solo?”
“no gli ho preso la badante. Certo che l’ho lasciato da solo.”
E li mi sono resa conto, che lasciare il papa’ da solo per 3 giorni e’ stato un bel regalo per tutti, Perche’ ha avuto l’occasione di fare il papa’, e di passare piu’ tempo con il suo bimbo. Gli ha insegnato cose nuove, e la frase con cui ha concluso la serata (alle otto e mezza) la dice tutta:
“sono stanco, mi sono alzato presto tutti i giorni, e ho dovuto lavorare tanto per finire tutto entro le cinque e mezza e occuparmi di BB, Vado a dormire”.
AHAHAHAHAH… MA DAVVERO?
Quando si rinizia?