Untitled.

I often find myself, on the weekends, thinking, "Wow, I would really love to X, but Ryan's here...". Replace X with things like clean out the guest room closet, clean out the coat closet, clean out the game room, paint the game room...the list goes on. He takes good naps, but sometimes you really just need a productive day to get shit done.

Today, I took him to my mom's around 2:00. He's crawling now, cruising along every stable surface in our house, and is into everything. It's hard to keep up with him. He's spending the night with my mom so we could get some work done. Like I was saying, we dropped him off at 2:00 and said our goodbyes. We went to Wal-Mart to get groceries (ugh, don't even get me started) and came home, did some things around the house and the quietness started seeping in.

No baby babbles of mamamamamamama or dadadadadada, or, his favorite..nenenenenenene
No singing drum, or singing school bus, or singing zoo, or singing ball popper thing.
No *slap slap* *slap slap* on the tile floor as he crawls

It was quiet. My husband was in the other room, I, in the kitchen planning our dinners for the week. I started to cry. I miss my son. He's going through a mommy stage, where I'm the one he wants. He wants ME to rock him, ME to feed him, ME to carry him, memememememe. The break is certainly welcome, but I find myself thinking, "What if it was like this all the time? What if Ryan didn't exist?" My life would feel so empty.

I do realize this was my life before children. It wasn't empty then. I just miss those baby babbles this afternoon, I guess.