There are many unwritten rules amongst women when it comes to going out on the town.
One of the most famous, perhaps, being the dreaded “breaking of the seal.” We all avoid it. As ladies we know that as soon as we give in to our need to pee, the rest is history. We will inevitably spend half our precious night out becoming besties with the little girls’ room.
And so, we hold it. Drinking our cocktails and crossing our legs while playing a twisted game of chicken. Who will give in first – us or our bladder?
Let me tell you, we can never win.
Three full nights of sleep.
Three mornings of having my tea while it’s still hot.
Three days of bliss in California, where the temperature is 50 degrees warmer than it is in central Indiana.
This is supposed to be like a vacation, even though it’s a work trip.
However, going from being with someone for every single moment for the last year (I count when she lived in my belly), to not seeing them for a few days, is a complete shock to my system. It’s like I have been holding her, and suddenly had to let go.
I lost the game of chicken.
The outside world won, as it always does.
I broke the seal.
After we sent her off with her grandparents Sunday night, I calmly walked into the kitchen…
And I cried.
It’s like my baby girl grew up, even if it was just a little. Although she clearly still needs me, it’s now apparent that she needs me just ever-so-slightly less.
Call me dramatic, but I didn’t expect this step to be so difficult. Our bubble has been broken. It’s a harsh realization – our baby is growing up before our eyes, even after only four months.
The seal has been broken. It’s all over now. Pretty sure tomorrow she’ll be moving out to college…