The whole drive to work I relish in the wet spot left on my cheek from the sweet goodbye kiss of my two year old son. It was tough to leave today. Never wanting to just disappear on my little one I always say goodbye and explain I'm off to be "Dr. Pohl" for the day. This is a funny concept that my two year old disputed at first, saying "You're not a doctor, you're a mommy!" Well I'm both.
This particular morning everything about my little guy was endearing and I wanted to capture every cute phrase and silly look. It was a "this is it" morning - ordinary and wonderful. Aiden running around in his footed pj's and his baby sister lounging in the boppy. I'm in the kitchen packing up my breast pump and he yells to me "She smiled a big one at me!"
When it is time to finally depart he clings to me, giving me the cuddle I desperately try to get from him when I have the time to enjoy it. He follows me to the door, and against my better judgement, I lift him up again. He then contorts his little body so I can't put him down. I plead with my husband to come help me. I say, "My heart is breaking," because it is. He takes him from me and each kisses me goodbye. Then they wave from the window. I put on a show of waving wildly back but I'm close to tears.
I carry the feel of that kiss all the way into the hospital, cherishing it- until I finally wipe it off, crumbs and all, to put on my mask.
Dr. Pohl is an anesthesiologist with a 2 year old and a 4 month old.