I came back last night from a three day trip to Portland, and no one missed me. Well, no one at home at least.
I was on a business trip, but I kept all day Saturday to myself to explore the city and have a bit of me-time. And I flew back just before dinner last night. My husband seemed to have worked overtime while I was away to be super-fun dad, so when they all picked me up at the airport, they were much more interested in telling me about all the fun they had with dad rather than being excited I was back.
Part of me is thrilled they had so much fun, and that my husband was so capable. But most of me wanted them to miss me terribly, unable to live without me.
Of course, in the three days I was away the kids didn’t eat a single vegetable and stayed up more than two hours past their bedtimes. And no homework was done, no piano practiced. But they had fun.
And frankly, I didn’t miss them either, so I guess we’re even. And no guilt about being away, so maybe I’m the worser parent. No that anyone is assigning blame, of course. 😉