It was strange to be away from my kids for 5 days. John is not quite 2, so this is the youngest yet that I have left one of them overnight. All 3 of them stayed with Grandma and Grandpa. Not that they seemed to suffer. For weeks before the trip, all I heard was, "When is it time to go to Grandma's house?" Maggie and James, anyway, couldn't kick me out the door fast enough. "They" say that a strong attachment leads to security during separation. I will have to hope that is the reason the kids don't really seem to care that I am gone. :)
I called the first night, feeling dutiful. "Oh, hi, Mom!" James sounded cheerful. "Yes, I am fine. Here, would you like to talk to Maggie?"
"Mom! Hi!...Yes, I'm fine. Oh, John wants to talk. Bye!"
"Hi Mommy! Doggy! Bye Mommy!"
Apparently the sheepdog was out across the road, moving the sheep into their overnight pen. I can't really expect to compete with that for excitement or attention. So, I hung up satisfied that though I missed them, they were doing fine without me.
Overall, I thought we all did quite well with the time apart. Except I failed at packing. I was feeling smug at getting everything into a carry-on so I didn't have to check luggage. Perhaps I should have recognized that this was a bit too easy. It was quite distressing to discover at the start of a 5-day trip that I had forgotten the breast pump. Okay, I wasn't trying to save milk or anything. But we were talking about some serious discomfort. Also, I was left worrying if my milk would dry up in that amount of time, leaving John weaned more abruptly than he might prefer. Just a little something to add to my mommy-guilt about being gone for so long in the first place.
Despite that, we managed to have a good trip. We got good work done. We went out for a nice dinner to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary. We caught up on sleep. Our presentations went well. We networked and schmoozed and all that stuff I hate. We came up with new ideas to bring home. We worked early and late and got tired.
We flew home through the most amazing thunderstorm. Towering clouds filled with lightning on either side of the plane - it reminded me of a movie set from Tim Burton (a bit frightening, a bit comical, a bit surreal). We landed safely and slipped into bed without waking the wee ones. In the morning, they didn't even come looking for us (their cousins were still in the house and a bigger pull). John was happy to see me, at least. I was surprised that he didn't even ask to nurse as he sat sleepily in my lap. Until James suggested it, anyway. Then there was no stopping him. Fortunately for both of us, the forgotten breast pump didn't seem to have caused any long-term problems. So, one mommy-guilt episode assuaged.
