But someone has to do it. Only that someone, this month, is me, dammit!
So I take a deep breath, pack my uniform, along with the wool coat, hat and gloves, zip up my beat up flight bag, grab the kid and the overstuffed diaper bag, as well as the car seat and the DVD player (a must have when traveling with kids), and off to the airport we go. Yes, the kid is coming with me to New York. That’s what happens when you commute to work and you’re married to a man who also travels for a living. The kid will stay with grandma in New York until the fifteenth of the month, and then it’s off to Dallas where he’ll visit his other grandma until the hellish month is over. Thank god for grandmas! (And Grandpas – let us not forget the grandpas!!) Of course I’ll be traveling back and forth by train, as well as airplane, to visit him on my days off. My two days off. Okay, so it’s really ten days off. Even so, that’s not enough days off- not when you break the days up into groups of two and three, and especially not when the flights are full and you don’t even know if you’ll get a seat on the flight in the first place! Did I happen to mention we’ll be gone until March? Yeah, it sucks. It really really sucks.