Does anyone else get this weird mix of feelings when they are about to drop of their kid(s) at Grandma's? Or anywhere else's for that matter?
I am packing up Will's things for a couple of nights stay and I am actually tearing up as I fold his jammies. Our bedtime routine with Will is one of my favorite parts of the day (and not, as one might suspect, because it's bedtime, but just because he's so sweet and it's fun to give him a tubby and rub lotion on this little body and then let him choose his jammies).
On the other hand, yesterday when it was rainy and windy and he was having a tantrum because I made him come inside, I thought, Gah, I can't wait until I drop him off tomorrow.
I also have a TON to get done. I have promised M (and myself) that I will work my @ss off until Thursday when he gets home, but then whatever didn't get done, stays undone until the weekend. As I won't be retrieving Will until Friday afternoon, that gives me a whole night and morning to lounge around and act all pregnant and lazy. As much as I am looking forward to being productive, I am really tired, so I am both excited for and dreading all that must be done in the next day and a half.
I am hoping to be bringing you some significant progress pictures very soon. Right now, it's time for me and my big bag of mixed feelings to go have a (okay, my second) bowl of Cheerios for the morning.