Taking a Guilt Trip

Originally written on a plane ride to Portland, Ore. - April 23, 2008

I had to leave this morning – no, before morning… around 4:30 a.m. – to catch a flight for a business trip. So last night was my last night with Molly and Daddy for a few days. Originally, I was supposed to get back late Saturday night – around 10 p.m. I still do… but at 2 p.m. yesterday I had another trip sprung on me. So now I have to turn around and be BACK at the airport Sunday morning to catch a 9 a.m. flight. So I won’t actually get to spend any time with Molly in between trips – it’s basically long enough to go home, kiss Aaron, sleep for a couple hours, shower, switch bags, and head back to the airport.

Needless to say, I was a little grumpy.

We had a really great family night – played outside, took a walk around the neighborhood, grilled out and ate dinner on the deck, then watched (it’s Tuesday night…) “American Idol.”

Aaron did bathtime duty while I packed. As I’m trying to pack two bags for two completely different trips/time zones/climates (Oregon and South Carolina), in runs Molly, fresh from the bath in her Cinderella nightgown. (She’s recently discovered the pure girlie joy of nightgowns.) She tackles me with a hug and says, “Have a great trip, Mommy. Be safe! I’ll miss you. Daddy and I counted that you’ll be gone five nights – so I’ll see you after five.”

Oy.

So it’s not a business trip – it’s a guilt trip. As much as I really like my job and love traveling (and enjoy a little non-mommy time every so often), it’s so hard to leave Molly. She’s just so damned sweet. She takes very good care of her daddy any time I’m gone – like she knows she has to help him with the daily routine. Once I get to where I’m going, I’ll be fine… but sitting on a plane watching happy families head someplace together, it’s just tough.

UPDATE: So, I did get home late Saturday night - around 11:30. Aaron told me that Molly really wanted to see me Sunday morning before I left. I woke her up. She was still sleepy, so she wanted to cuddle with me in her rocking chair, just like when she was a baby. It was so sweet that I started to cry. And the kicker was Molly's good-bye: "Good-bye, Mommy. Have a great trip!" Killer.