I’m leaving tomorrow for a quick business trip. I fly out at 6 am tomorrow morning and land back home at 6 pm Wednesday night- so I’m gone a grand total of 36 hours total.
Part of me wants to do my best Braveheart impression and scream “Freeeeeeedom!!” as I pack my bag. I get to meet with an old friend for breakfast tomorrow, travel with two of my favorite coworkers and attend meetings with some interesting companies doing some great things. Add in at least one or two great meals out and a night in a hotel and I am one happy girl.
That is, until my 2 year old asks me when I’m coming home. I tell her I’m going on a quick trip and I’ll be back when she wakes up in 2 days. “You promise, Mommy?” And that, right then, is when the arrow goes right through my heart. I realize in the grand scheme of things a quick 36 hour business trip is not the end of the world, but it’s a big thing when you’re little. For better or worse, my kids are used to the Hubs traveling for work, but they aren’t used to me being gone. I keep telling myself it’ll be good for all three of them- the Hubs, Scorch and Bean- to figure out things without me for a few days. The Hubs can try his hand at getting the kids ready to go to school on his own, deal with the fun that is swimming lessons solo and wrestle the kids to bed two nights by himself and the kids will be thrilled with all this attention.
Me? I’ll be loving life in the Big City all the while counting down the hours till I’m home.