Runaway Mom

It is 7pm on a Monday. I am sitting in yet another airport lounge, waiting for yet another business trip. I took an evening flight so that I could take the big boy to karate and have dinner with the family one more time before six days on the road. As I wait to board my now 90 minute delayed flight, I’m preparing for a full week of high powered negotiations, executive meet-and-greets, power lunches and strategy sessions. Each day will begin before 6am and likely end well after midnight.

And it will still be a piece of cake compared to an average day at home.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my kids. Love my husband. Love my life. The BadAssMama has it pretty good. But I am f*ing exhausted. While my days will be filled with business meetings and high stakes deal making, work is a walk in the park compared to battling a tantruming three-year-old. While a potential business partner may attempt to change the basis of negotiation at the 11th hour, there will most always be some shred of logic to their approach. My 5 year old repeatedly trying to catch his own spit in the middle of karate class? Not so much…

I began to realize JUST how much I was looking forward to this trip just on my way to the airport. After yet another day of doctor appointments, laundry, balancing the checkbook and running errands (in addition to completing my actual “job”), I piled into a car service at the very last possible minute to head off to the airport. My shoulders were up to my ears, thinking about how I could get my kids to be better listeners – how I could help to direct their independent spirits without breaking them. How in the hell I was going to get them ready to start REAL school in September. Then, it hit me. The closer I got the the airport, the less intense my worries seemed to be. As BadAssMama Central began to fade into the rear view, my tension and stress levels also began to diminish. As I prepared to face six straight days of grown up conversation and challenging, yet extremely logical business problems, my mommy guilt, slowly, but surely, began to transform into sheer giddyness.

And there would be room service. Plus housekeeping. And cocktails…

So, just for the week, I am running away from home. I am leaving my cape at the cleaners and spending a full six days focused on grown-up problems. True, I will miss my kids. And, true, the behavior issues will not magically disappear over the course fo the week.

But it sure will be nice to get a six full nights of sleep….

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