Early last month, the mom of one of AB's classmates said to me, "Everytime I see her she's smiling. She's such a happy kid. Is she like that all the time?" I thought about it and could honestly answer that about 90% of the time, she is a happy kid. I had never thought about it before, but I am blessed to have a kid with such a sweet disposition. I think that it is easy to focus on the times when our children misbehave. I will be the first to admit that I am guilty as charged in that regard. But this comment made me proud that despite the "situation", I am successfully raising a happy, considerate, well-adjusted kid.
However, this realization has made her moments of sadness into little daggers that pierce straight through to my heart. Over the past 5 semesters, I have been away from AB due to evening obligations no more than a handful of times. It was a very rare occassion indeed. However, this semester, my final semester, I have not been so lucky. I have two evening classes. Therefore, I am away from the kiddo for two evenings a week and she is asleep by the time I get home. Meaning, there are two nights a week where I am not putting my child to sleep. Meaning, there are two nights a week when my child is as sad as sad can be because I am leaving. Meaning, there are (at least) two nights a week where I feel like a bad mother. I feel so bad for the poor babysitter who more often than not is left with a grief-stricken child with tears streaming down her face.
After the first couple of weeks I just had to leave my mommy guilt at the door. Why? Because carrying it around with me to, during, and from class would be absolute torture. Because it would not change a thing (hello, required courses). Because she can count on the fact that I will always be there when she wakes up, be it in the middle of the night or the next morning. Because the end is in sight. Because the world will not end.
