The train makes mommy cry

(Yes, it has been far too long since my last post. I have been writing lots of posts in my head. And have a few drafts sitting that I should really publish.)

Today LC turned 3 years old. *insert cliche here* They're all true. I sit here and marvel at how much LC has grown and matured. He's by no means a big kid, he's still smaller than most of his peers, but he can do so much now, understand so much. When I'm not actively involved in whatever he's doing, I find myself staring at him in amazement.

I just got back from dropping LC and Mr. Chili off at the GO station (local commuter train in our area). LC and Mr. Chili are going on an adventure. They are going to a pre-season game to watch Mr. Chili's beloved Toronto Maple Leafs. We have season tickets* that have been in Mr. Chili's family for a couple of generations. They're great seats, not as good in the ACC as they were in the Gardens, but pretty good still. Bloody expensive too.

I pulled into the "kiss & go" parking area, Mr. Chili gathered up the diaper bag (loaded with lots of snacks and toys and spare clothes) and the stroller and unbuckled LC from his carseat. I got out of the car and kissed my guys good-bye. Told them to have a great time. Then I sat in the car and watched as Mr. Chili carried LC to the station doors. My eyes welled up, watching my big boys go off to a night of fun. I felt so many things: so proud of Mr. Chili for being such a great dad, so proud of LC for being so mature, sad that I wasn't going with them (and a bit jealous too), sad about LC not needing me as much anymore. Etc.

I know LC does need me. But not like he used to. And most days I'm grateful that daddy is not only a choice, but the preferred choice. The first two years of LC's life were very, uh, intense and demanding of me. He was very attached and I was a nursing/co-sleeping/etc momma. So I was the ne plus ultra of comfort. And I remember wishing that he would just leave me alone for a moment. And now that time has come and I'm a bit sad about it. Never satisfied, some might say... Or is it that we always want what we don't have. I don't know. I figure these feelings are okay, so long as I don't wallow in them.

What makes me feel better is realizing that I am going to get a chance to do those first two years (and more) all over again. I'm terrified and thrilled. I'm now 17 weeks pregnant. Pinto Bean (PB) is doing great. And in just a few short months, I'll get another shot (probably my last) at doing this all again.

I'm blessed.


* We sell most of them, they're so danged expensive.