Dear Ittybit,

You've gone off with your father on trip.

Perched high in the crane truck, strapped into your carseat, I bet you're on top of the world.

Car counting, word games and road food await.

It will be a few days before we are reunited as a family.

I won't miss the argument over bedtime. I won't miss harping at you to brush and floss your teeth. Or even the smoothing of tangled hair (though that chore is growing on me, I must admit).

But I will miss tucking you in at night and listening to you read to me. I will miss reading to you and playing our silly games. I will miss your face in the morning and the cup of coffee you slosh through the house ... for me.

Your shoes are scattered about the house - no doubt considered for packing, packed and then reconsidered. As I collect them and put them away - a chore I have protested time and again - I find myself missing your scabby, stinky feet.



Love and Kisses,

Mommy.