Before I put the kids to bed tonight I told them that I am leaving tomorrow for a few days for a publications conference in San Antonio. I planned this carefully. I didn't want them to have to stew about it for a long time, but I didn't want them to be surprised when I head for the airport instead of sacrament meeting tomorrow morning.
A - emotional, loving, flexible child - cried and cried, made me promise to leave him a red lipstick kiss on a piece of paper and make Daddy roughhouse with him. (Yes, I am normally the one who does that. If you have been reading this blog for very long you already know that we have our gender roles a little funny in our family.) Then he prayed that I would "have safe travels" and not get hurt.
S - mischievous, creative, stubborn child - first confided his plan to stow away in my suitcase and play Pirates of the Caribbean on his Gameboy all day while I attended my meetings, thereby missing school and escaping three days' worth of homework. Then he prayed that God would "bind me to the ground" so I couldn't leave. You can imagine him saying this, if you know S.
My kids are used to G being gone, but not me. It does feel different. Is it because of our habits, or because there really is something different? I can't answer that; all I know is that it's hard. I am really excited for this conference because we are getting ready to start up a magazine. But I am awfully glad I don't have to travel for work very often. I don't know how other mamas do it.
Adios! I'm off to the Riverwalk, leaving my sad little kids behind.
3 comments:
Crap! I forgot to tell you what else to look for! Mebbe I will call you in the evening (crossing my fingers that you have your phone with you).
I mean, c'mon... we all know this trip was really so you could souvenir shop for me! ;)
Come back safe & soon!
You can call my cell anytime this week. I know one thing you want. (Born on a mountaintop in Tennessee ...)
I've heard San Antonio is really beautiful.
Sarah used to cry when I left a lot right after my son died and I was on an activist tear. She loved the presents I brought, but I remember her crying on the phone and I changed my reservations and paid extra and went home. One time.
I didn't leave her very much, but it was traumatic when I did.
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