I work. I have to work. I know I've talked about it before, but lately...lately it's gotten worse. I leave the house and work, 5 days a week. 5 full work days. Add to that my nearly 2 hour round-trip commute and I'm gone for the majority of Pie's day. If I'm lucky I get home for dinner, a little play and bed. But, god forbid, I have to stop on my way home and do anything crazy like get gas or run into the store, then I get home in time for bed. It sucks. Hard.
As Pie gets older, it is getting even harder. When she was a baby, I missed her and she was mostly a lump-o-baby. Now I miss her, and she misses me back (sometimes). She wants me (sometimes). She knows I'm gone and she's not happy about it. And depending on how unhappy she is about it, she punishes me. She wants to make sure I know she doesn't like it. Believe me baby, I don't like it either.
At this age she is changing so much, learning so much. And I'm missing it. I missing it for a job that I'm not passionate about. But I am missing it to keep a roof over her head. It's a necessary evil, but that doesn't make it hurt less. I don't know how many more days I can cry in the car, the bathroom, my office because my heart breaks every single time I have to leave her.