speaking of...

While we are on the subject of being the other mom...
Eliza is with her mom all this week for a summer camp. We miss her, of course. It may sound a little strange, but I miss telling her to pick up her room. I miss her expression that loudly screams "you are so weird." I miss the rolling of her eyes. This often occurs when I tell her to pick up her room. I miss her sweet hugs. I really miss reading her bedtime stories, getting her special yellow blanket tucked around her, kissing her all over her face, and telling her I'll see her in the morning. So I called her this morning to hear her soft voice and tell her I love her. I got the answering machine. Now here comes the confession... at the end of the message - to her mom - I said "Love ya... Love you guys." There are two possibilities here. Either Brigitta erased the message before she got to the awkward ending, or she listened to it all. I'm guessing she listened and thought it was a little odd. This is an automatic phrase. Yet also an irretractable phrase. This is a not entirely untrue phrase. But could be taken as strange phrase. Mostly I think this is a comical message. Later on I can have the conversation with my husband's ex-wife that my husband and I have had. The one that sort of goes like this-- "Remember the first time I told you I love you..." The conversation that ends in giggles over the sweetness and awkwardness of the whole thing. Or we could have the conversation about the stage of our relationship. The ones that go like this-- "I just don't know if we're to that stage in our relationship yet..."