Trading Places

Most days, "traveling" for work means I walk from the kitchen to my desk in the basement. (The desk has been moved upstairs for at least the next two months so my in-laws can live in our basement while their house is being renovated, but that is a blog post for another day.)

The view from my office in San Diego

So it was a bit jarring earlier this month when I found myself 3,000 miles from home, in San Diego for three days for a work conference. Exactly one week later, it was Belle traveling for work for three days. This meant the parenting duet we have so carefully choreographed over the past nine years temporarily would be solo performances. 

I felt a little guilty about leaving as my work trip neared, so I compensated by buying as many extra groceries as I could so Belle would not have to worry about whether she had enough grapes for lunches. We explained to the kids how dad would be gone for a few days, and then mom would be gone for a few days. They were primarily concerned about whether their morning smoothie would still be made and what was on the dinner menu.

I was nervous when I woke up way too early on a Wednesday morning to go to the airport because I couldn't remember the last time I went to a work conference but also excited to travel on my own. I might as well have had TSA Pre-Check based on how quickly I got to my gate compared to traveling with a party of five. I might as well have been sitting in first class on the plane, seeing as there were no kids to entertain or monitor and I could doze off as I wished.

I landed in sunny San Diego, bought a single ticket to a Padres matinee and life was pretty good. I'm not much of a schmoozer with strangers but I made a point to walk up to tables at meals and networking times with complete strangers and kibbitz. And the fish tacos. Oh, the fish tacos. 

(I also learned a few things during the educational sessions of the conference.)

Overall, it was a great trip, and it was short enough that I didn't really have jet lag upon my return home. Which is good, because immediately I had to get into the mindset of being home alone with three children. Belle also would be leaving way too early Wednesday morning and returning late Friday night, so I spent Monday and Tuesday reviewing the kids' calendar of events for the rest of the week and literally writing out lunch menus for each kid, the sous chef taking the reins in the kitchen.

In all honesty, it wasn't hard watching the kids by myself because they have varying degrees of self-sufficiency and they know the school-day rhythm. It's just that Everything. Takes. So. Much. Time. I made lunches the night before so I would have enough time to get everyone ready for school so I would have enough time to at least shower before walking to the bus stop. I started the bedtime routine at approximately 4:15 p.m. so everyone would be asleep at just slightly later than normal.

Except for me, of course. By the time I cleaned up the kitchen, caught up on emails and watched a little TV, it was past my bedtime. One thing I didn't do, partly out of exhaustion and partly because I knew I could get away with it, was a nightly clean up of our playroom. 

Like most families, we have accumulated a lot of toys. We try to give away toys as the kids outgrow them and get new ones for birthdays, but there is still a lot of stuff. And when the kids get playing, to quote the great Bruce Dickinson, they really explore the studio space. 

Belle has taken great pains to ensure every toy has a storage location and will spend time many nights putting everything back in its designated place. I will help her, and I'll pick up stray Legos and dolls off the floor. But I've always thought, if we're not having guests over, why put toys away tonight if the kids are just going to pull them out tomorrow? So, I pursued a strategy of playroom containment for two nights and cleaned up Friday night before Belle came home. 

Was every doll, magnet tile and Barbie accessory back in its exact, rightful place? Definitely not, because Belle wasn't there to answer when I asked, "Where does this go?" But I was able to doze off on the sofa waiting for Belle's return with the satisfaction of knowing the playroom floor was clear and, more importantly, the house was still standing. 

The next morning, we were back to being a family of five and life continued as normal. I feel ready for when Belle travels on her own again in the fall. Perhaps by then I'll find those missing puzzle pieces in the playroom.