I’m leaving home this Tuesday and I’m not bringing my family with me. It will be the first time I’ve left Stump overnight. I’ll be flying out of Seattle to go to a four-day work-related conference in—-wait for it-—Utah.
I was invited in December and I thought that of course by then Stump and I would be ready for the separation. By then, of course, he would be sleeping though the night, and not crying every time I left the room. Oh, and I figured he’d be toilet trained, able to dress himself, and feed the dogs. And while it’s true that he’s grown and changed in the last six months, he hasn’t achieved any of the goals that I just named. He can now say “Mom-meeeee” while he’s crying. And twice in the last month he’s slept until 4 am without waking up and demanding milk. That’s about as far as we’ve come.
So I wouldn’t be exaggerating to say that I’ve been dreading this trip, entertaining the worst-case scenario as the most likely scenario.
In the worst-case scenario, Stump barely sleeps for the three nights I’m away. He wakes up screaming and refuses to be consoled. Kellie loses her mind from the sleep deprivation, and when we talk on the phone, she makes sure that I know how miserable they are. I am miserable in Utah. It’s hot, and the pool is scummy, and everyone at the conference wears suits. I come home with bedbugs. Stump, upon seeing me, bursts into tears of anger and relief. Everyone is exhausted, including me. We never catch up, and Stump never forgives me. He grows up to be a convict, or an author of short stories that always feature neglectful mothers.
This worst-case scenario has been turning over and over in my head. But there have been a few brighter moments where I’ve entertained a best-case scenario.
In the best-case scenario, Stump is easy because I’m gone. He’s a little fussy the first night, but settles with a some comforting. He gets it that nursing is not an option, and the by third night he’s learned to sleep soundly. The hotel in Utah has a beautiful pool, and there’s a convenient place to hike. I eat good food and drink some wine with colleagues. I come home refreshed to a house of pleasant people who have had a good time without me, and a baby who is happy to see me and who now sleeps through the night.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
I don’t have plans to leave but I dream of having them. I’m ready for a night away. I’ve never been away from Nolan and only one night did gray spend without me.
I’m ready to night wean! I’m tired of nursing all night long! So I’m dreaming And I imagine what you have described in your blog but I hope the latter or some place in between is how reality plays out for you and me.
At least you should have a good time even if they aren’t…. !!!
Wish you could come too! I most worry about that period between 4 – 7 am when were really are like those pigs.
I hope your conference goes well and that you find more aspects of the best-case scenario than the worse-case one when you return (but that worse-case scenario you outlined sure made me laugh!).
Thanks! Fingers are crossed.
Uh, Jenn? Hello-o. You forgot about your secret weapons. Do you want Carole and me to fly into Seattle, or meet up with you and the boys in Utah?
P.S. This made me laugh. I love the first illustrative photo, but you may have some self-image issues to deal with.
P.P.S. Enjoy the clean white sheets. ❤
Kath I actually have half of my arsenal deployed. Mom’s staying with Kellie. Maybe you should meet me in Utah?
That would have been amazingly fun! We could have peed outdoors a lot. 😉
Safe travels. I’ll be rooting for your best case scenario. Definitely would suck if Stump turns into a prison convict from your business trip 😉
Thanks! I’m trying to believe the best-case scenario is possible.
Oh, we will do just fine, especially if I continue to sleep out in the shed…..x0
I hope so!
I hope things go well. I guess kids have to learn about separation at some point.