See you Sunday

Three new sheets await Addie, Ben and Theo for tomorrow morning on the breakfast table — Rosie can’t read yet, so she doesn’t get one.

Addie’s says:
Addie. You are a caring, smart person with powerful joy. I love you and think you’re amazing!! See you Sunday.

Ben’s says:
Ben. You are a thoughtful creative person with big feelings. I love you and think you’re amazing!! See you Sunday.

Theo’s says:
Theo. You are an expressive, dynamic person with a magnetic personality. I love you and think you’re amazing!! See you Sunday.

Tomorrow morning, 4:45 am, I’ll be up and boarding a plane to Calgary, and then to Atlanta. I’m gone until Saturday. That’s the longest trip I’ve taken all year long. Five entire days, I’ll be without my family, and my family without me.

The parts I feel worst about being absent for are the parts for which there are no substitutes or helpers: early mornings, and the middle of the nights, when nobody else but parents will do. It’s a lot for a solo parent to handle.

Kendra’s says the hardest parts are the dinner hours, trying to get food prepped, while also managing kid homework, with end-of-the-school-day wild energy, and solo parenting.

I’ve got a keynote talk to give on Thursday.  I’ve got lists of tasks and jobs to do on airplanes and hotel rooms in the meantimes. I’m hoping to make it worthwhile, using downtime for creative output and reading, seeing the conference as a chance to give a compelling talk and meet new contacts. And, oh yeah, I’m getting sick.

Last time I was in Atlanta was in the airport on our way to the Bahamas for our honeymoon.

I will breathe deeply, and hope for rest, creativity and connections. I will hope that my family back home will thrive during this significant absence.

4:45 am will come all-too-soon. I never sleep well on the nights before flights with early-alarms, awake at every second moment to check the clock.