Ok, I have a confession. I haven't left my son with a babysitter for more than two hours. Heck, I haven't left him with my husband for more than 4 hours. Yes, he is almost a year old. At first, he was too little. Then he was a bit bigger but wouldn't take a bottle, only my breast (much to the dismay of my husband's family, but that's another story). Then there was no one banging down the door, offering to help me and babysit him. And then the seperation anxiety kicked in. Big time.
I would go to playgroup with Alex every week, same group, same house. I would try to leave the room to go pee and a meltdown would ensue. Every. Time. It's not like I'm a helicopter mom, I'm always trying to get him to let go of my pant leg. I would try little baby steps away from him and it was torture. For both of us. Especially before he mastered crawling and couldn't follow me. Alex is a little better about it now. I can leave the room and he'll play on his own. Most of the time. Eventually he'll crawl into the room where I am, and heaven forbid I should leave the room he worked so hard to get to (like when I'm bringing food to the table from the kitchen).
So tomorrow, Alex is going to Auntie Cathy's house for 4 hours while I take a sewing class. I know how to sew, but my sewing machine is buried in the closet, and the fear of needles around is too great. This hip sewing shop just opened up and their classes sound like fun. I'm abandoning my son (ok, that's a little dramatic) to go and make oven mitts. I've never made anything with batting so it will be something new for me.
I used to love sewing. I made my prom outfit (pants and a bustier, oh so 1992) and made a few for friends. I made a quilt for my sister and her wedding dress. As a teenager I seriously considered going into fashion design (to the point where I almost applied to university to study it). It's been a long time since I've sewn anything. I'm excited to be doing something just for me.
I really want Alex to do well tomorrow. Even if he doesn't I know my sister will be able to handle whatever happens. I'm so worried he's going to lose it. I'm conflicted about leaving him. I feel selfish for wanting time away from him, I feel guilty that I created this baby who won't go with anyone else. This is supposed to be something fun for me. I'm a little excited, and a little anxious. Ahhhh!