It just dawned on me that a year ago yesterday, I learned that we were going to have a Baby Leo.  (Granted, we didn't know it was a Baby Leo, but a baby nonetheless.)  A year ago yesterday, I had my hair pulled back, wore dark blue Vigoss jeans, a white blousy pleated shirt, tall gold heels, and I was pregnant.  I came out of the bathroom after seeing the test, dressed my little 18-month old Patrick, whispered my news, went to work, and I was pregnant.  I came home, went about my normal business, never told Adam, and I was pregnant.  For the record, those jeans are still tight.  Also for the record, I would have it no other way.  My sweet baby Leo.

Two days later, I did finally tell Adam.  Disguised as a simple little getaway night since he had been working like mad, we checked in to a hotel downtown, ordered a buffett of cooked sushi, and a bottle of Prosecco (for him).  At exactly 8:10pm, room service showed up again, this time with warm chocolate chip cookies, Traders Point Creamery Milk, and a small green-and-white-striped envelope for Mr. Walden.  Here is what it said:

My Daddy-

I do not have a face to see or to put inside a frame.
I do not have soft cheeks to kiss and I don't yet have a name.
You can't yet hold my tiny hands, nor whisper in my ear.
It's still too soon to sing a song or cuddle me so near.
But all will change come this May; that's when Mom thinks I'm due.
I'm your new and tiny baby and I will soon be meeting you.
All that I ask from now until then is your patience while I grow.
I promise I'll be worth the wait--you've been through this.  You know.
And from where I am, I'm loving you as I know you are loving me.
My Daddy, I cannot wait to join this growing family.

(Also included was a little note from me, which will not be shared.  As little as I mind sharing personal details, some memories lose their charm when not kept close.)

Sadly for my sweet baby Leo, this week has not been so warm-and-fuzzy for him.  With school back in session as of Monday, and Leo having never gone without me for more than a couple of hours, I was terrified that it would have gone much worse than it did.  For all I know, it was much worse, but my wonderful babysitters have all lied to me.  In short, Leo misses his mom.  I'm at a loss for what to do, if anything at all.  I contemplated weaning him, as to maybe break the attachment a little, but the thought of that brings tears to my eyes.  I know I'm not ready.  Obviously, neither is Leo, and I really don't want to lessen the mother/baby bond.  Breastfeeding is a breeze for the both of us and I hate the thought of disrupting this good thing we have going.  I'll wait another week or two and see how things are going.  My hope is that he just adjusts to these new changes and I'll have to do nothing.  I have the day off today, and tiny Leo is in a very good mood to have me home. 

Patrick, on the other hand, loves the new transition.  He barely gave me a kiss and a wave before I was out the door on Monday.  He loves going to see Uncle Thomas, Aunt Leeney, Grandma, and Nana (whomever has them on whatever day).  He's our little social butterfly.  He lives for these little outings and, though he is a creature of habit and desperately needs a schedule, he's pretty open to change.  He's been great through all of this, even so far as to "help" me study.  Not a night has gone by this week that I haven't been trying to study with at least one, and sometimes two, sleepy children on my lap.  I'll take it, though.  They could be screaming, hell-raising monsters who never let me get anything done (and, chances are, I'll have at least one day of that before this is all over), but for the most part, they are pretty cooperative.  My guilty conscious aside, things are going well.  It's nice to be back in the swing of things.  I like to be busy.  We'll see if I'm singing the same tune in a week.