Away from the manger

My purse is empty of every crayon, Little People person, baby wipe, pull-up, spare underwear (size 2T), plastic hair clip (not that they're ever worn but JUST IN CASE), sippy cup and snack trap. It is half its normal size.

I am not responsible for keeping track of any one's nap schedule, bodily functions/outputs, bedtimes, moods or entertainment needs except my own.

I am able to carry on a conversation with my husband that does not include any whispering, spelling out of words or interrupted trains of thought (except when my pregnancy brain takes over, of course).

I will be able to sleep in tomorrow (theoretically) and wake up to no one's voice calling insistently for me.

I will spend the next three days looking at towns and homes in what will be our new home state: Virginia. With CG. Without Zoe. I spent the two flights it took to get here reading. WHOLE CHAPTERS AT A TIME. And brazenly eating peanut M&Ms and bad-for-you "snack mix"es at a non-official snack time.

I can't believe I'm spending this much time away from my baby. I know she will be fine. I know her Nana and Papa are taking good care of her. I know this is important for us as a family, to really take time to explore our new home state before the new baby comes and we're moving and it's too hard to figure out where we should live. I know it's important to us as a couple to have time away and not have every moment revolve, at least a little bit, around our joyous, demanding and chatty whirlwind of a daughter.

I can only hope I don't miss her so much that I fail to enjoy this precious, precious time alone with my husband. Everything I see or hear, I imagine her reaction. On the drive from the airport, I pointed out "horsies" to CG in my excited mommy voice. It's so hard to turn that part of my brain off. I don't really want to.

Except, for maybe, just a few days.