That’s the name of my toe-nail polish, swear to god…Windy City Pretty. Of course I did it on purpose.

Last year as I packed for BlogHer, I was nursing Princess Peanut in between folding skirts and shirts. I was fretting over how many hours a session would last, and how long it would take me to nurse my daughter after breakfast, before session #2, during the cocktail party…you get the idea.

I was worried how my mother and the Kaiser would handle two kids in a hotel room. I was still TOTALLY uncomfortable leaving my children for any length of time, even to join my friends for a once-a-year get together.

Tonight, I’m doing laundry, packing, and counting the hours before the Kaiser and I leave for LAX. I’m wondering how many drinks I can have on the plane without feeling like shit. I’m wondering if I can add a day to our get away just because. I’m wondering if I’m a terrible mother because not only do I want to get away from my kids, I am DYING to get away from my kids.

Let me be clear, I’m the mother who wouldn’t let you HOLD my child. I’m the mother who never spent a night away from her kids. They were GLUED to me. GLUED.
NYC for BlogHer business was my first trip away. I’m now determined to never come home. Ok, kidding, kidding…but I feel like a freshman at college who got away from her parents and suddenly fucked everyone and drank like a fish. I now want to leave my children ALL THE TIME. I went from one extreme to the other.

I’m not sure it’s healthy.

I can’t do much about it now…with BlogHer in Chicago beckoning me with its yahootinis and wonderful swag bags. With its familiar faces and hugs from bloggers I’ve only typed with.

…but when I get home…I’m thinking I need to sloooow down a bit. Reengage with my children, my home, my life. Stop trying to escape like a forlorn teenager and find some balance between hovermom and freedom lover.

In the meantime, me and my Windy City Pretty toes are off.