I hit the perverbial wall.



Seward, AK



Currently getting my eat/drink on at the w xyz bar in the aLoft Philadelphia.  A five hour flight behind me, I now sit feeling almost back to my well- adjusted self.  Last night at 8pm it was a much different story.  Sometimes I think we as mothers are harder on ourselves then anyone else ever would/should be.  Last night was one of those moments. 

Anyone who knows me or has read this blog knows I love my job.  I also love to travel.  Although it gets old once in awhile it is still a passion.  I enjoy visiting new cities and seeing new places.  Whether it is visiting a museum in Atlanta or going deep sea fishing in Alaska I try to do/see as much as possible in the short time that I am at each location.  I've never had anyone to race home to.  Sure there is my husband but his lack of wanting to see/do/try new things has resulted in a general understanding that if I have an opportunity I should take advantage of it.  Chances are he has no interest in doing/going/seeing said event.  Case in point, he has no interest in Europe.  None.  Not even when I say we can do an entire beer themed trip (Germany, England and Ireland).  Nothing.  None.  Zilch.  Zero.

Here in lies my new found dilemma.  I now have a princess to get home too.  At 8pm last night it hit me.  Like a small European sports car running full throttle into a moving freight train hit me.  I do not want to leave.  I do not want dad or grandma or daycare to take care of her for the next five days.  I do not want to miss what might be her first scoot or her first tooth.  Do not mistake this sudden twinge of guilt for wanting to stay home full time.  I'd go nuts.  Having a child now ... I realize that.  I'd go literally bananas.  But for the first time in probably two years I felt guilty.  I felt guilty for leaving, for working, for wanting to provide endless opportunities to my child. 

I told myself over and over, she has no clue that I am gone.  She won't even realize that I left for five days.  I'll come home Thursday and she'll be thrilled to see me.  Ben even stepped up and reassured me that all would fine.  I am pretty sure it isn't a matter of being fine or that I'm worried he cannot handle her.  I'm simply going to miss her.  I'm simply going to miss taking her to daycare.  I'm simply going to miss spending the evening getting her fed, bathed and ready for bed.  But will I survive, yes.  Did I pull it together, of course.  After my literally seven minute depression episode, I sucked it up and moved on.  This mom does not have time to feel guilty.  This mom chooses to work and chooses to travel.  After all it is a choice, a choice I've made, a choice I'm sticking with.