It's kind of weird but it comes and goes. I can't deny that it's nice to come home and lay down on the couch undisturbed
But I think it's easier too because I know he's coming back so it's not like I need to wail and gnash my teeth at a cruel world who tore my son from me.
Right now, my biggest concern is finding him part-time daycare for when he's in kindergarten this fall.
He was still alive last I visited him
He didn't really want me to leave, but he's not miserable or anything. I think he just misses actually being "home" with his room and all his stuff, etc. Kind of like when you're on vacation for a while and kind of feel done with it and are looking forward to leaving the hotel.