I’m currently on an airplane at 10,000 feet (yay wi-fi!) en route to Atlanta for the Type A Parent Conference. I’ve spent the last 12 hours or so learning about the hot new toys for the holiday season (Doc McStuffins, Sofia and Minions, oh my!) in New York City. It’s been a whirlwind and I’ve only been gone a little over 24 hours.
I’ve got my rock star husband at home, pulling double-duty, and we just hired a fabulous new sitter, who I know will take amazing care of my children while I’m not with them.
But I’m still uneasy.
I don’t know what it is about flying that makes me nervous. I never used to be, but having kids has totally changed everything. (I promise I’m not just realizing this.)
I thought having a car pick me up instead of having the family drop me off would help. And while I didn’t tear up the way I usually do, my heart was still rapidly beating in my chest as I waited in line at check in.
The first phone call home got my daughter a bit upset. It’s tough at her age; she doesn’t quite understand where I am or why I’m not home. With Bug it’s easier. He doesn’t want me to be gone, but he forgives and forgets at the drop of a hat.
This trip is good for me. I need some mama time. I need to connect with friends who share my passions and interests. I need to stretch my brain and learn new things.
But I still miss my kiddos. I still miss my husband.
Sunday will be here soon enough. For now, I need to let go, relax and enjoy.