This morning's 100 words:
I woke up this morning with an ache in the pit of my stomach, the kind of pain that comes with the realization that something wonderful will soon be ending. It's an ache that fills me with dread and loneliness and sadness, all premature, yet I feel it weighing so heavily. The suddenness of it all, its imminence, has hit me--slammed into me--and it hurts.
My son starts preschool in the fall, only a few weeks from now, and I'm not ready to let him go. He's always been with me--every moment. I feel lost.
I know that preschool will be good for my son. I know that he'll be happy, that I'll ultimately be glad I sent him, that we'll both adjust. But it's still hard to think about right now...
I woke up this morning with an ache in the pit of my stomach, the kind of pain that comes with the realization that something wonderful will soon be ending. It's an ache that fills me with dread and loneliness and sadness, all premature, yet I feel it weighing so heavily. The suddenness of it all, its imminence, has hit me--slammed into me--and it hurts.
My son starts preschool in the fall, only a few weeks from now, and I'm not ready to let him go. He's always been with me--every moment. I feel lost.
I know that preschool will be good for my son. I know that he'll be happy, that I'll ultimately be glad I sent him, that we'll both adjust. But it's still hard to think about right now...
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