Momnesia

Sunday, March 9. Finish packing, 12:55 p.m. To bed at 1 a.m. Baby crying at 2.  Big Brother crying at 2:01. Up at 4.  Taxi driver rings doorbell at 5 (Doh!). Airport at 5:30. Flight at 6:30. Land in Richardson, Texas at 11:55 a.m. Meeting at 1 p.m.  Finally check into hotel, 10 p.m.  

A  nursing mother, away from my baby for the first time. She is 10 months old and probably enjoying chicken nuggets and cigars with dad. I, however,  am exhausted, on the verge of tears, and on my FOURTH refrigerator for my hotel room… apparently they don’t get many traveling nursing moms., and hence their refrigerators are more like portable heaters.  Whatever happened to the wet nurse?  I also had to send my room-service dinner back… no I did not order the salscicca pizza.  Salad. Right. Salad.   Take it back. But I will keep the wine, thanks.

Traveling for work sucks. Even more than that, it sucks that when you tell your 3 year old you are traveling for work, he crumbles, his face twisted, “But mommy, we LOVE YOU!?”  It sucks when you call home and your baby screams when daddy pulls the phone away because she doesn’t understand that mommy doesn’t actually live in that magical silver box.  Well I guess from her perspective mommy does live in that silver box. At least for the next two days.

 At first I was excited at the prospect of being away for two whole days.  I thought maybe I’d get a facial .  But then, as the days drew near, I felt overwhelming guilt. How would Chris ever take care of both kids, a dog, and still get to work?  Then, the guilt turned to creeping dread. My stomach churned. What if something bad happened?    Who would take care of them? Then, the real issue reared its ugly head, how will I be able to go on without THEM??

Back when I was single, I would sometimes go to bed and wonder, why should I bother getting up in the morning? What was there to look forward to?  I’d sit in bed, Leno on the TV, and read a book, or flip through Glamour or Cosmo.  Then the phone would ring. My roommate’s boyfriend.  Ugh.  Seriously, what was the point?  Groan.   More Leno.  More laugh track.

And then it would hit me.  I had something every morning that I loved.  Something that most people took for granted. Hot, black, strong…  Peet’s. Freshly ground French Roast…  I’d flip off the light and immediately fall asleep.    I told someone that Peet’s was what kept me going. They said it was sad.  Sad?    It was coffee that got me through some very tough times.  Who doesn’t reach for a cup when they need a pick me up?  

 These days, with two kids, husband, dog, a full time job…  I still look forward to my coffee.  Some days it’s still the old French press. Others it’s an iced soy latte with two shots and a pump of sugar-free vanilla syrup. Either way, I still look forward to it.  And it still keeps me going, no matter how tough things get.