My kids tend to sneak things into my suitcase when I go away on a business trip. Usually it’s one of their toys. Occasionally a picture.
This time around?
Nothing.
My son is entirely unfazed by my comings and goings, and my daughter is just downright pissed off. She’s decided my leaving is a direct insult to her tiny being and she’s crossed her arms in defiance and, this time, flat out refused to lovingly help pack my bag.
Empty.
There are no stuffed kitties or bunnies in my bag. There are no smiling stick figures drawn with care and attention. There are only my jeans and sweaters and a plastic airplane my son had placed between my toiletries and my coat the last time I left town.
We have all these discussions about women in the workforce, women in the office, women breaking the glass ceiling…but the reality is that despite wanting to dominate the world…my suitcase is empty.
I’m not sure if I can put into words what that does to me.
My suitcase is empty.
Despite having every ability and ambition, it just physically pained me to go pull out my pajama’s as I ready for bed here in this hotel room…and find no tiny puppies and zero little ponies.
My passion for what I do overwhelms me sometimes. It drives me to spend long hours writing, reporting, and organizing in the things I believe. I’m lucky that my job and my passion collide in such a wonderful way.
But my passion for a full suitcase overwhelms as well. And it tears at me as I try to concentrate on the task at hand.
Who knew such a small thing could make such a big difference.
Empty.
Wow. Words can’t describe how much I get this. Huge hugs
And a big glass of wine for both of us!
Awwww. Touching.
.-= Al_Pal´s last blog ..Sensitivity: I have it. =-.
Oh, I hear you on this. For me, I think the day that Jon and Laurel no longer want to meet me at the airport will totally break my heart. {hugs}
.-= Boston Mamas´s last blog ..Seeing the Everyday =-.
Ah the steps of growing children sometimes trample on our hearts…
Trust in this knowledge – you are doing a good job! You now have proof! Even if it is absent!
I’d order us both a nice cold martini… nice post!
.-= AsKatKnits´s last blog ..The Bohemian Grove Theory =-.
Oh this one got me. Our children moving in and out of ages and stages is all-together too heartwarming and too heartbreaking to handle sometimes.
Here’s to finding something in your suitcase next time. Even if it’s one of their dirty socks.
Don’t worry…one day, they’ll be proudly talking about you to their friends! Hope you can listen in!
.-= Roshni´s last blog ..Mamoni =-.
Oh, that is crushing. My kids dislike me leaving very much and what pains me most is the tears or fits I hear when I call home. It is hard to balance what I love, what I want to do with being a mommy because they both mean so much to me. They seem to get why I leave but their hearts don’t.
.-= Sommer´s last blog ..Acting Green or a Green Actress? =-.
Hm, not to worry I have a feeling it’s not quite over.
.-= Keyona´s last blog ..For The Last Time =-.
I’m banking on the same thing Keyona is.
And, BTW, here’s anticipating that the daddy ensures this doesn’t happen again in the future. (No one wants to see a begging mommy. Except an angry kid, of course.)
.-= patois´s last blog ..The Weekly Wonderings #145 =-.
Oh ouch. I am feeling this like a gut punch. Does it help if some of us get it? Urgh.
.-= Camille Bright-Smith´s last blog ..Money Honey =-.
An empty suitcase was how you were feeling before this happened. As a father of four, kids are always looking to be on the go and socializing with their friends. When the parents are the ones doing this, they instantly feel freedom and then emptiness.
From the woman I met at the Nevada Conference, I would say they are just being strong like their mom and trying to make a point. That no matter how many times you head out that door for work, you better never forget them. The kids were giving you some tough love and I am sure they will need a mom’s hug soon.
Best of luck.
Oh, so feeling you mama. My daughter has been making me cards to bring to work. Today she asked me to make her one in return that she could take with her in her lunchbox at school to “remember me.” Yeouch.
.-= mom101´s last blog ..The constant battle =-.
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