Last night the Hoos and I were alone. LP slept over at her grandparents' house.
When we went out to dinner, it didn't seem so odd. We have gone out to dinner before and left LP with her grandparents. Browsing at the book store also felt normal. Grabbing some ice cream and slowly walking along the river in Westport also did not seem so out of the ordinary. Picking up a movie and relaxing on the couch also wasn't much of a stretch from our normal weekend. Even staying up later than usual (12!!) to watch the movie seemed like a potential thing we might do with LP home.
As I walked up the stairs after watching The Prestige, an intriguing movie with an excellent ending, the Hoos called out a question about the plot. When I responded in my regular voice, THAT felt odd. I wasn't whispering to avoid waking the baby. I was acting as if LP wasn't upstairs splayed out in her crib, sleeping nicely. Because she wasn't.
As I write this at 1:30 on Sunday afternoon, LP has finished her nap and is enjoying lunch. At least, that is what my mother-in-law told me when she called a short time ago. She will be returning home soon, and I did accomplish quite a bit this morning (after rolling out of bed at 9!) but I am struggling to feel comfortable not being with LP. She was well taken care of, she behaved wonderfully, and she is having a great time. Me too, except I do know that I miss my cute little muffin... a lot.
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