I'm anxious when I have to leave Oliver with someone - not because I don't think he's in good hands, but because I feel bad for subjecting a crying baby to the kind soul who offered to babysit. Like many babies experience at one or more points in their first few years, Oliver has separation anxiety. While this emotional milestone is normal, anyone who's going to watch him has to have patience, thick skin (who hasn't held a screaming baby and wondered why the baby doesn't like you?) and an expectation that there will be tears.

I'd put off a dentist appointment for months - a much-needed cleaning after the hormones of pregnancy and breast-feeding had potentially littered my mouth with cavities, and continuing work on a crown, a process I began before I was married - but finally arranged with a couple from my babysitting coop to watch Oliver today. I'd warned them about what to expect and they weren't deterred - they have a ten-month-old and have seen it all themselves.

Despite my own anxieties of how Oliver would do, I felt like we were off to a good start because, by pure timing coincidence, Oliver had just been up from a nap and fed (aren't we all better prepared to take on life's challenges with sleep and food?) when I dropped him off and left him happily playing with the other couple's baby. Immediately after my appointment for the cleaning (no cavities!), I fished my phone out of my purse desperate to see how many missed calls and text messages I had with pleas for me to come rescue them from my crying son. Instead, just one text message - a picture of a happy Oliver and an "All is well!". What a relief!

With the other hour of my appointment postponed because the dentist had called in sick, and a baby who surprisingly wasn't missing mom, I was faced with freedom I haven't felt in awhile. For the next hour and a half, I could do whatever I wanted. Really? So I took my second run since Oliver was born and jogged down Summit Avenue and past the city's historic mansions and then relaxed in the sun in a park overlooking the Mississippi. My post-run lunch and shower at home were that much more enjoyable - in a way only another parent can understand - knowing that I was not going to be interrupted by the abrupt end of my baby's nap.

I returned to pick up Oliver and received the rundown of his time away from mommy and was amazed at how well he did. There were few tears, and in fact, two of the three times he cried was when either my friend or her husband left the room. Sure he still had separation anxiety, but I felt like it was progress that it wasn't just reserved for me.

I was excited to see my adorable little boy again, and he of course was more than happy to have me back. Holding him in my arms again, I realized those three hours away from my parenting responsibilities, even when one of them was spent at the dentist, had an amazing effect on my mood. I was happy and relaxed, as well as relieved that everything had gone well, even if just this once.