Miss You When You're Gone

I miss her every time she's gone...for an afternoon, for a night, for a few hours. I miss her a lot. We do what we need to do, and what we know is right, for her, for us, but I miss her when she goes. I wonder how there are parents who don't miss their kids? Who send them away to camp all summer long. Who spend every night in the garage. Who don't light up with excitement at just the sight of their child. Zoey lights me up like a Rockefeller Center Christmas every time I see her face...even when I hear her voice.

Tonight I miss her. She's staying at Baachan and Granddad's. Sunday night sleepovers help to give her Grandma a chance to keep her own life in order rather than just paying attention to ours, and it gives her Baachan and Granddad a chance to soak her up across more than just a short visit. It gives us a chance to do this or that without a toddler, but in the end I always miss her.

She's safe, and I'm sure enjoying being coddled and loved at Baachan's house...but there was nobody to tuck in tonight and that can leave a Dad feeling a little empty...this Dad at least.