issues

I would really rather not give everyone the impression that I'm totally neurotic and frantic about my children leaving me at any moment. I kind of thought that I was over that stuff I wrote about in the last post. But then this morning I had a bad dream:

Tommy was leaving. Going somewhere on his own. I'm not clear on the exact circumstances- if Bill and I were divorced and the boy was going off to visit his dad (a situation I'm very familiar with from Kate's growing up), or maybe he was just going off on a trip by himself. But he was standing out on a street corner in his yellow crocs and blue spiderman t-shirt- not any older or bigger than he is now- waiting for a taxi to pick him up.

I was watching him through a window, trying to be cool, but then just lost it and ran out to him, crying, and begged him to come back home and stay with me for awhile. I was on my knees, hugging him and sobbing, and he was like "ummm, I don't know mommy. Actually, I think I'll go."

Is that messed up or what? I am getting all choked up again, just thinking about it.

It's going to be a long 14 more years for this kid, what with trying to live his life while his mom drags along behind him, holding on to his ankles.