Not Even a Few Tears?

I just got home from a long weekend visit with a dear friend... it was my first time away from Jude and, I'll be honest, I was a little nervous about it.  He's always been a bit of a Mama's boy... we spend so much time together, it seems only right.  I was so looking forward to a little girl time, non-mommy time, etc.  But the apprehension persisted.  I knew my husband could handle it; it was how Jude would feel that worried me.  

However, my fears were seemingly unfounded.  He did great.  Excellent.  He didn't really have a sad where's-Mommy-moment.   He did ask to call me several times, though.  And it's a good thing he never broke down, because there were moments, listening to his sweet little voice telling me he loves me, that I almost did.  If he would have cried, it would have been over for me.  He did so well that I actually felt a bit disappointed that he never had a meltdown.  I mean, where's your heart, kid?  If I, the adult, almost cried, couldn't he muster a few tears?  Just to make me feel better?  

I must say, this vacation had a wonderful effect on me.  I came home sooo happy to see my fellas and energized in my role as a mother and housewife.  I really must do this more often...