Some MoB readers know that I travel for work. Not extensively but on average I find myself in another city every two weeks or so. It’s a blessing and a curse. A blessing because on the days that I am not traveling, I work from my home cave office which is incredibly convenient but incredibly isolating. After about 10 consecutive days of the home environment exclusively, I start talking to the dog… about important things. That is the canary in the coal mine — the sign from the universe that I need to get out of the house or go totally loco. Dave knows it. My boss knows it. And they agree that a warranted business trip every few weeks is in everyone’s best interest. I need to walk among the humans every now and then. But the travel is also a curse because I do have to leave my kiddos on a regular basis, even if it is just for a night or two.
So here I am on my first trip since July and I have to say I’m a little out of practice. Emotionally, that is. I know many MoB readers who have children travel for work. My brother just started an assignment that takes him away from his family to Pittsburgh a few days a week. I told him that he will get good at the logistics. But I didn’ t tell him that the separation is always tough. He will figure that out on his own. For me, the feelings are like clockwork:
- 24 hours prior to your trip you start to feel guilty about leaving them.
- 6 hours prior to the trip you panic that the plane is going to crash; you then quickly pay all the bills before departing.
- 10 minutes after you say good bye to them a feeling of amazing freedom washes over you as you move deftly through the airport without having to tell anyone to “please stop that.”
- 1 minute after you arrive at your hotel room you feel badly they are not there to jump on the beds.
- 8 hours after a great night’s sleep you remember why this is a good thing.
- 24 hours after the trip has begun you start missing them. (When they were toddlers I couldn’t bear to talk to them on the phone because it hurt too much. That gets better).
- Any trip longer than 48 hours really takes it toll on me. After the second night, I get cranky. Just on the inside though where I desperately crave to get home and smell their sweet little heads.
- Invariably, five minutes after I arrive home and get my wonderful hugs and kisses, the brothers start some sort of fight with each other causing me to say, “Fellas, that is NOT what I wanted to come home to. Do you want Mommy to go back to Kansas??”
Yes, my friends, I am in Kansas. I’m scheduled to speak at a conference this morning. Usually my business travel takes me to San Francisco or New York, or Washington DC where there is always something to distract me. But here, it’s rainy and cold – and my room has a pullout couch which the brothers would love.
Missing your children sucks – but it puts a lot in perspective. And I although I went out for drinks and bar-b-que with some very fun people here (requires its own post), I keep clicking my heels together and repeating … well, you know the words.
