I couldn't help it

It had been ten months, and I hadn't left Connor's side once. He was getting so big. He was now at the point, where he could sorta stand up. He had to be holding something, like my hand or the edge of a table. But still, he could stand. I knew things were about to get hectic, when he starts walking. He was already all over the place, with his crawling. Sometimes, I still thought that he was a dream. He was too good to be true. But there were other times when I realized that he was real. What my life has become is real. Times like when he first grabbed a hold of my hoop earrings, and almost pulled them out. That hurt too much for it to be a dream, and I learned my lesson, about wearing earrings. But mostly, when I realized how I felt about him being in my life. There's no way I could dream that feeling up. My imagination isn't that good.

Today, was to be my first day away from him. It was the day I had to return to school. I was strangely calm about leaving him with a babysitter. Mom, on the other hand, was freaking out. While, I was feeding Connor his cheerios, she was running around the house in circles.

"Mom, what are you doing?" I asked in a suspicious tone.

"Packing." she replied.

"Packing?" Then, I realized she was holding the diaper bag. "Mom, stop. I'll pack Connor's things."

She didn't reply. Nor, did she stop. She continued, to run around the house, muttering to herself, and picking up things, as she went. I stood up, making sure Connor was secure in his chair, and walked over to her.

Holding her in place, I said, "Mom. Stop. I mean it. You need to get to work. Connor will be fine. Trust me."

I started pleading with my eyes, and finally, she caved.

"OK. I'll see you after I get off." Walking over to Connor, she gave him a peck on his forehead. "I love you, buddy." Then she headed towards the door.

"Oh, don't forget to give the babysitter all our numbers! I love you." With that, she was gone.

I walked back over to Connor who was finished with his cheerios. I washed him off, got him dressed, and with him in my arms, ran upstairs to get myself ready. Of course, he loved it. He felt like he was flying. I put Connor in his playpen, and started dressing in a pair of jeans, and a tshirt. I put on my shoes, grabbed Connor and the diaper bag, and left. My book bag was already waiting in the car.

We arrived at the baby-sitter's shortly. It was a quick drop off, because I didn't want Connor to get upset. That didn't work, however. He started crying as soon as the door shut behind me. My calmness started abandoning my body. I didn't want to leave him with someone else. I wanted him with me.