Yesterday, Emily and I spent a lovely day just hanging out and watching TV. We went to the library and the zoo. She helped me at the grocery store and everything. She’s such a great little side kick. I love hanging out with her.
Last night, after calling my aunt to rescue me yet again, going through some nonsense rigmarole, and then finally holding my breath and crossing my fingers, I managed to book Emily’s ticket back to New York. A few minutes later I was in tears. I hate the thought of sending her back. I wish she could just stay with me forever. It completely breaks my heart. She’s such a bright and funny young lady. We need each other.
I intend for her to come and visit us again at Christmas. And of course she has to come out for our wedding. But what I really want is for her to come and live with us next year. And I know that’s what she wants, too. And yet the idea of talking to her father about it makes me so nervous. In my skewed perception, he always gets what he wants. He always defeats me.
I realize that switching back and forth between schools might not be the most ideal situation. At the very least, I hope that she can spend a majority of her summers here and at least one school vacation a year. And now that I have a US phone number, I can call and text her as much as I want in addition to skype. It’s only the six hour time difference that gets in the way.
She’s my baby. My only baby. I don’t want to let her go. But that’s the reality. I’ll get used to it and keep going.