I was going to go to the gym this morning. I’m up, I’m all dressed for it. But my stomach hurts. I forgot to take my medicine on Tuesday and this is what happens.

Also, I ran into Desmond in the hallway. Groggy, he thought someone had knocked on his door. No, I said.

“Can I go back to bed?”

“Yes, you can go back to bed.”

“Okay, I’ll be down in an hour.”

“Okay, honey.”

It’s harder for me to leave the house when I see my son, I have noticed. If he comes down before I get out the door, I don’t often make it out the door—unless I have to, like for work.

Part of it is I hate to think of him coming downstairs to a bunch of empty rooms and being all by himself. I mean, Derek is upstairs, and Aislyn is in her room, but they’re still sleeping.

It’s funny, because I don’t mind being alone sometimes, and I don’t think he does, either.

Mostly, though, I know that when I’m not here, I’m missing out on time I could be spending with him, and that really bums me out. He’s 11, which means he still wants to be around me.

I want to soak up every minute I can before he prefers the company of his friends. I can’t even believe how fast the time has gone by. Wasn’t he just a little bit of a baby, sleeping in his tiny onesie in his crib? He’s almost as tall as me.

Do I ever miss those days? I don’t know. Maybe sometimes. The way he used to stretch his arms all the way up in the air when I would wake him up to feed him. His baby laugh. The way, as a toddler, he would speak in third person: “Desmond eat tree (broccoli), want grape please.”

But I’m so excited for every new day with him, every new story, project, adventure. I don’t really dwell in the past. It’s fun to remember those sweet old moments, though.

Anyway, I guess I’m not going to the gym. I’m home today and tomorrow for online training workshops. Maybe I’ll ride my stationary bike or even take a walk at break time.