Yesterday, after waking up at 4am from fretful nightmares about Blue, I tossed and turned until 5:30 trying to decide whether he should come home for the holidays or not. There have been so many discussions and debates between the four of us about it. I finally realized that if it was an ok thing to be doing, it wouldn't be this hard to decide. What was I thinking? I am a rule follower. I should have known that the nagging in the back of my head was not going to go away. Delirious, I fell back asleep until K. woke up. We talked it over, and it was decided. He called Blue, and I cried as I drove myself to the dentist. (There were several other weepy moments. Moon was at a bit of a loss during one of the spiraling down episodes. I heard K. say to him, "Get used to it, this is how it's going to be for a couple of weeks.")
Last night a friend sympathetically texted, "It sucks to be smart." It does.
So, Christmas needs to be mailed to Michigan. I always make an ornament for each of the guys, and today Blue's was stitched. The rosy ground is leftover flannel from his baby blanket.
It was the very first thing I ever made for a maybe-someday baby, about five years before Blue came along. Really, I didn't know if I wanted kids, but I did want to practice the recently learned crocheted edging. When I showed the finished blanket to K. that evening, he worriedly wondered if I was trying to tell him something?
"Well, if I am, you'd better start looking a whole lot happier!"
To his credit, he was ready to have a baby before I was, and beside himself with happiness with each pregnancy.
We last saw Blue when he was home for the holidays a year ago. There may be a road trip this spring. I don't want to miss seeing him be 22.
In the meantime, Christmas needs to go in a box. There are cookies to bake...
