...like today, when I would've rather had my baby (Larissa, almost six) rip out my heart from my chest and step all over it. Instead she freaked out after I dropped her off at soccer camp, and run after me crying "mami, mami!"* not wanting to let me go. Gulp, sigh, and sniff.
Guilt is a powerful emotion. The need to hold her and cuddle her and keep her with me for the rest of her life even more so. And as her mom, the knowledge that it's better for her if I don't, the one that makes everything just suck. Ugh.
*for the non-Spanish speakers, the translation would be "mommy, mommy!"
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