the prodigal emotion returns...

...and i'm hoping it's only here for a visit and not to stay.

i rushed out the house today because a. i wasn't carpooling and therefore had to get on the road immediately or miss that tiny window of no-traffic opportunity on the 10 freeway and b. i wanted to avoid the MIL. in the process, i breezed past a whiny, needy aly and a solicitous, wistful dylan in my haste to GET THE HELL OUT.

if it's not yet apparent, reason b was the primary reason for my mad dash for freedom. we've been at odds for the past 2 days now and, being women, we have perfected the art of civil silent treatment. i know i can keep this up indefinitely - our house is big enough - but the kids get caught inadvertently in the crossfire and that's what's bringing on the guilt.

stupid prodigal emotion. thought i'd gotten rid of it several lents ago.

anyhow, my levels of guilt are legion, but for the sake of brevity and because i have to let the kids in in less than 15 minutes, let me just highlight the most heart-piercing (although, oddly, also the most seemingly petty) incident of guilt inducement...

dylan has this routine where he stands in front of the garage door - or the front door, depending on which point of egress i choose that day - and seeing me off for work. he's done this since he was little, ostensibly to "watch my wheels go", but nowadays i wonder what goes on in his little man brain. he always looks so wistful, like he wants to go wherever i'm going but knows it's not possible. most times, we've gotten ready at the same time so he's dressed and primped and opens the car door for me, suffering a quick kiss on the head if the boys have come to pick me up and tolerating a hug when i drive myself. sometimes, i leave early and he's still in his underwear so he stops short of the driveway and just watches me leave for the day. regardless, he always expects me to roll down the window, call out "have a good day; i love you!" then give him a honk of the horn before i zoom off. (i've even trained the boys to give him the honk when they pick me up for carpool).

today, it was the same routine, albeit rushed because of the aforementioned reasons. nothing new. same old, same old. right? but dylan actually picked up my rolling cart so it would clear the threshold on my way out. and he actually hugged me back when i asked for one instead of impatiently standing there as is his wont. and when i told him it was GNO (girls' night out), he looked so crestfallen that i almost half-decided to call and cancel.

so, yeah. that's it. i pull out of the driveway and head out - yes, i honked - and it seemed very normal. but something was plucking at my heartstrings and when i examined it during the long drive alone to work, it articulated itself thusly: dylan is a boy. and he will outgrow his "momma's boy" phase soon, never to return to that simpler, sweeter place. in fact, i realize now that he's already been pulling away from me. it's been a gradual process, as most things are, but it's happening nonetheless. i told myself i was relieved that now it's "greg's turn" when dyl chose to hang with his dad instead of going to the mall with me, or happy that i got to spend uninterrupted "girl time" with aly. but in truth, i wasn't really happy or relieved - i was in denial, trying to bury the ache of losing my son under these less painful emotions.

when this particular epiphany hit - somewhere between the milliken and haven exits - i was crushed with the guilt of rushing out of the house without spending a few, precious moments savoring that hug or complimenting dyl's chivalrous lifting of my rolly cart. how many more times will this happen before he becomes too cool for mom? before he decides sleeping in is infinitely more rewarding than standing in front of the garage door, shivering in his underwear, to see me off? when will he become sullen and closed off and refuse "sleepovers" in his bedroll at the foot of our bed because that's for babies?

these questions may seem petty and premature, but can you blame me for trying to guard my heart from shattering? because it's inevitable, you know. a mother's curse. i can only hope that when it happens - the vanishing of my baby boy - i will be able to replace him gladly with the man i hope he becomes.