On irrational thoughts...

I've been back a week from my whirlwind trip across the pond to Paris and London. I'm home with my boys. And I'm happy.

Happy I went.

Happy I'm back.

Happy to know I could go again.

Happy to know I can stay home.

While I was away, I thought of Max a lot. And I felt very much out of my realm of normal. Since Max was born, I've worked everyday to feel comfortable in our "new normal"...but as it turns out, getting back into my "old normal" world felt very VERY different.

Rolling one suitcase through the airport...sleeping on the airplane...not lugging a diaper bag...and make medicine three times a day...and change diapers. I missed all of those things. It felt wrong to just be me. It felt like I was pretending to be someone I was not a lot of the time.

And then, there were the irrational thoughts. Being without Max, those sometimes crop up...and I can't help it. Thoughts like....

"What if the plane crashes and I'm stuck in the middle of the ocean without a phone to call Steve and check on Max?" (Not what if the plane crashes and I don't survive...because there would be nothing I could do about that...but if I were to survive a plane crash in the middle of the Atlantic, I would HAVE to find a way to get in touch with Steve.)

or

"What if while on top of the Eiffel Tower, I'm mistaken for someone I'm not, and get arrested and put into a foreign jail and it takes forever to get a lawyer?" (I need to stop watching so many espionage movies with Steve.)

or

"What if while riding under the English Channel on the Eurostar, the train breaks down and we're stuck under the tunnel for hours?!!? And Steve hears about it on the news and I don't have cell phone coverage and can't get a hold of him?" (This one was pretty close...minus the breaking down part...I didn't have cell phone coverage from Paris to London for most of the day...and there were problems on some portion of the Eurostar the day we traveled, but we were not delayed.)

or

"What if I'm walking down the street in London, or on the tube, and the next terrorist event happens?" (Again...really need to stop with all the espionage tv and movies with Steve.)

or

"What if somewhere along the way, someone coughs on me, and they have the non-treatable form of tuberculosis, and I catch it and can't ever be around Max again??"

I mean REALLY...why do I have to go "there" with all of these thoughts? Why can't I just seize the day when it comes to something nice for myself? Why do I have to constantly worry worry worry about how it will interact with Max?

Because I am his mom. And he is my life. And as long as he's with us...I want just that...to be with him. I want US to be together as a family for these memories.

I'm not saying I didn't enjoy my trip. These thoughts were passing, and immediately recognized as RIDICULOUS! And I know it is important to get away, and recharge, and be ME.

But...it can be done in different ways. And I certainly don't have to jet-set across the Atlantic every time I need or want a break. I'll take an afternoon sitting at the beach with Max's heavy little head on my lap napping to the sound of the waves next time!

I'll take that any day.