Since Jack took off for the wilds of Southern Illinois on Tuesday, I've been keeping in touch with him with daily phone calls.
The kid is having a freaking blast.
Every day, he talks my ear off, all about how he went swimming three times, went on a hike with Poppa, has a new Lightning McQueen sleeping bag there, played with his glamorous older cousin Devin's old toys, and on and on.
There has not been a single hint of tears or "I miss you, Mommy."
This is a good thing. Because meanwhile, Steve and I have been having a great time, too. Things are awfully relaxed here, and I have time to do things like put cages around my tomatoes before work, sit around and read a magazine, fold laundry without a "helper," and go for long walks with Steve.
I think that Jack's Big Adventure will have lasted the ideal amount of time. He's having lots of special grandparent time, Steve and I got a break, and although none of us are pining for the other, we will all be happy to see each other later today.
There is just one hazard to having Jack spend all this time with his grandparents. Mr. Jackson W. Crazypants is now the proud owner of a lightsaber. A lightsaber of his very own was an inevitable purchase that Steve and I were attempting to delay. We'd point to the "Ages 4 and Up" on the package and lament that he couldn't have one yet. Not because we thought he'd hurt himself, but because we dreaded spending every waking moment of our days having "battle-fights" with Jack.
But now, battle-fight we will. Steve went to Target last night, and now all three of us have lightsabers.