Absence Does Indeed Make the Heart Grow Fonder

Well, the commotion caused by the chair fire (or chair smolder) has died down. Insurance companies are battling it out (our tenant's and ours) over who pays what. But it's being taken care of. The cleaning guy has a big air purifier fan in the tenant's side to get the putrid smell out of the air, and they'll replace the carpeting. So all's well in mudville.

I just returned from four days out of town on my scrapbook retreat in New Jersey, so it was a nice homecoming last night when I got home. Margaret and Patricia were still up so I was able to greet them, and they were very happy to have me home. Four days at home with Brigid really took their toll on them. It was Jack's birthday, so I was able to be home to raise a glass of wine, wish him happy birthday and sit down for some Oscar watching. Don't know why ... we haven't seen any of the nominated films. We did see the best actress winner in "La Vie en Rose," and she was deserving. Great film.

But Brigid was already in bed when I got home. I didn't want to chance waking her up by going in an looking at her in her crib, so I just waited for the inevitable middle-of-the-night wake-up, which came about 3 a.m. I jumped out of bed (I was very anxious to wrap my arms around my Baby B) and went into her room. She had been crying generically and when she saw me, her voice raised and she cried out, "Mommy! Mommy!" That was enough to reduce me to tears of happiness. I scooped her up in my arms and she put her face on mine and wrapped her arms around my neck. She then snuggled down on my shoulder and when I climbed into our bed with her, she had a sleepy smile on her face. All was right with the world again. She seemed so relieved and relaxed, she kept reaching over and touching me, as if to reassure herself that I was indeed back. It was great to get away, to go to be with "my people," 300 like-minded women who look forward to these retreats to work on scrapbooks and socialize, but boy, it was wonderful to crawl into my own bed and to hear that joy when Brigid said, "Mommy! Mommy!" Did my heart good.

Jack had the girls to himself those days, and although the baby was out of sorts, he said it wasn't as bad as we both had feared. Both Margaret and Patricia put in exemplary efforts and pitched in to help. I think they were sick of it by the time I got home, but they were great. Couldn't have done it without them. Jack said over the weekend that Brigid would be a little weepier than usual, that she had odd napping and waking schedules, but he was able to get her back to sleep sans boob, so that's encouraging, especially as we look ahead at weaning. And if she didn't have boob last night, I think Brigid would have been equally happy to just drift back off with me by her side. I got nearly 30 pages down at the SDV, but my best would have been if I'd had taken a picture of Brigid in her crib when I walked in her door. It's good to be home.