|Photo courtesy of www.wallpaperbase.com|
I used to travel for work a lot and getting on a plane wasn’t much different than getting in a car. For a while, I had a regular Tuesday 6:30 am flight and I scheduled the cab to be at my house at 6:00. Twelve minutes to a small Austin airport, ten minutes through (pre-911) security, getting to the gate as all rows were called to board, no worries.
Now, as a Mom, especially as a Mom with a nursing baby, getting on a flight feels about the same as getting on the Space Shuttle to orbit the earth…
It feels complicated and full of potential danger. “What if I get stuck in Minneapolis because of a blizzard?,” I wondered when I traveled last month, in September. What if planes are grounded again (post-9-11-fear) and I can’t get home? What if my baby girls miss me and they cry? That is the one I think of the most. What if they are crying and I’m not there?
But, more than that, I don’t want to live in fear, making plans (or not making plans) based on however many bad (and unlikely) things might happen. I don’t want to live that way or model that way for my girls. I believe in my husband and how he takes care of the girls and I want him to know and my girls to know that I know he is a great Dad. I want to do well at work and I want to have some time for myself, so I’m on my way to San Francisco for a work conference, leaving a day early to spend some time on my own.
The funniest part of my trips is getting the breast pump through security. Even when they take it aside and inspect it and send it on through, I can see the confusion in their eyes about how exactly it works and I’m tempted to do a demonstration.
I love you Noel, Sparkles, Buttercup and Blue Eyes. As my flight heads away, I already look forward to coming back home.