Dr. Isis is blogging this afternoon from the Detroit airport. First, let me offer a shout-out to the young lady with the poster tube who recognized my now famous teal sequined pumps and saw me reading Science Blogs and put two and two together. It was a little creepy to be "recognized," but we had a lovely conversation. Best of luck with the PhD, little chicken!
This afternoon Dr. Isis is in transit between MRU and Massive Metropolitan City where she plans to spend the next several days visiting with Brother Isis and eating some amazing food. Dr. Isis loves to eat. I had been looking forward to this trip for several weeks as an opportunity to take off my Mommy and Scientist hats and reconnect with myself. I had planned to sit in the airport in between flights and begin sifting through the 500 articles in my Google Reader that I have been avoiding and then close up the laptop for the week, buy a copy of Vogue, and dream and reflect.
Figure 1: Dr. Isis prepares to tackle the huge stack of papers in her Google Reader. Except, you know, Dr. Isis is totally hot.
But then this morning Mr. Isis and the Isis family took me to the airport and we had a talk about how "Mommy was going bye-byes." We talked about how Mommy would be back on Friday and then we would all go to the airport on Tuesday to head to Grandmom's house for Thanksgiving. I thought we were doing ok (at least, that I was doing ok) until Little Isis chimed in with:
Little Isis: Mommy go airplane?
Dr. Isis: Yes, my love.
Little Isis: Me go airplane too?
Dr. Isis: No, honey. Next week we'll go together
Little Isis: I go if I say, "Please?"
And thus began the weeping (on my part, not Little Isis's) that has occupied the majority of my morning and the torn feeling between knowing I need a little sanity break in order to keep it together and the ache of missing my children.
The absolute deep visceral ache.
So, herein lies the real Isis - the woman who tries to keep it together and knows when she needs a break, but who longs for her children desperately when we are apart. More so than balancing work and family, I struggle with balancing my identity as a woman and as a mother. And I struggle with needing my children. Today, I especially struggle.
Comments
I relate. I just spent almost 10 minutes looking at photos of my little dude on our Picasa album. I must persist with data analysis this afternoon, but he's at home with a fever chanting "ma-ma, ma-ma" to his father. The heart, it aches.
Posted by: LH | November 18, 2008 2:42 PM
Ah the balance. My wee son is transitioning this week to a new daycare and this morning he spent 2 hours at the new, followed by the rest of the day at the old and my oh my he did not want to be left behind at the old. Too much energy he'd put out and he was done and just wanted to spend the day with family. After awhile of playing with him, at some point I just had to say good bye and try desperately not to be late to that meeting I should have properly canceled. For me the balance is often trying to find the line where support and encouraging a child to learn on his own meet. Today I don't think I found it.
Posted by: Peter | November 18, 2008 3:13 PM
My darling husband offered to take our wee girl to the other side of the country for Thanksgiving with his parents so I could have a whole 10 days to myself. While in so many ways it sounds so incredibly appealing, I couldn't bring myself to accept. I would like to get to a point that accepting such an offer would be possible. Because there is nothing my body could do with more right now than a holiday. Because getting on a plane in a couple of days, with all the preparation necessary for a mobile, but only slightly verbal child is utterly daunting.
But, the tactile withdrawl I would suffer in the absence of my wee girl would, for now, render the experience horrendous, not revitalising. Perhaps, what I need is practice, which will come only with accepting the kind offers of my sweet husband.
Posted by: PostDoc | November 18, 2008 3:26 PM
That is hard.
I can usually get by with 1 full day, maybe 2, away from the family, after which I start missing them in a big way.
But soon enough, if my little one is any guide, Little Isis will be actively telling you to leave. After I recently came back from a trip, my son told me to go back to California.
That hurts too though.
Posted by: Nat | November 18, 2008 3:32 PM
Many hugs. That visceral ache is so hard. Especially b/c of that conflict of needing them there, but needing the break. Does the knowledge that I just spend 1.5 hours getting the monkey to nap, while you get to sip wine and (what makes me most jealous) sleep in, make the ache slightly less?. Aaahh, the choice to sleep in. I can dream. it will happen again. I can dream.
Posted by: ScientistMother | November 18, 2008 5:44 PM
...
... who recognized my now famous teal sequined pumps and saw me reading Science Blogs and put two and two together.
Not to downplay the stranglehold you are quickly establishing on the intertubes but...
Wow.
I mean, what are the odds..?? . . .Quick, someone get us a mathematician in here..!!
The aches still occur years later. Usually at equally inopportune times. Knowing fellow-parent hugs.
...tom...
.
Posted by: ...tom... | November 18, 2008 5:45 PM
I know how that hurts -- especially when they're so little, and so consuming, but so completely loving and vulnerable, too -- I had/have times where I'm torn between weeping for need to be apart from them for a while, vs. weeping from the pain of being parted from them for a while.
Whoever it was who said that having a child = agreeing to have your heart walk around outside your body for the rest of your life, was right.
Posted by: sandy | November 18, 2008 7:41 PM
Yes, for the rest of your life! You need a break, though. Enjoy the big city and sibling time.
Posted by: Mimi | November 18, 2008 8:19 PM
I'm not going to pretend that I understand, because I don't have kids yet and therefore I know that I don't get it.
So instead I will say that I am sorry for your pain, Dr. Isis. :(
But you deserve your break, and try to think about how great the reunion will be!
Posted by: JLK | November 18, 2008 8:42 PM
You wait until they are teenagers and you want them to hang with you but they have other plans- OMG, I have been miserable with all of that. I hate the silence even more than I hate the noise. Or when they get on a plane/bus/car and leave YOU for WEEKS on end- and everyone around you says you should be happy but really all you want to do is curl up into a ball and cry. No, your partner/husband/boyfriend/bff cannot understand. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, you can call up your mom and tell her how crappy you feel. She probably will get it.
Dear Isis, hugs are sent to you, and lots of love as you do what you need to with a hole in your heart.
Posted by: anon | November 18, 2008 11:01 PM
I'm okay overnight, but by two nights it's starting to really bite. It doesn't help that the youngest cries her heart out, ESPECIALLY when I KNOW that within half hour such heartache will be forgotten (on her side) in a pot of yoghurt and Peppa Pig.
Posted by: literarydeadkittens | November 19, 2008 5:51 AM
Never mind the visceral ache, never mind the sequinned pumps; I want to say that the photograph of the non-hot woman on the ladder with the papers is pretty lukewarm. I'm sure I saw something similar in an advertisement from Parke-Davis many years ago, and it helped me to grow.
Posted by: Jeremy Cherfas | November 19, 2008 1:42 PM
Yeah. It's tough... they are going to get you on the back end of the trip as well.
The day we left for vacation and left the kids home with my parents- little A told me was the 'worstest' day of her life. And- the day after I returned from vacation- I had to stay until 5 because we had 4 pm seminar. I was talking to the little A just before seminar and she wanted to me to come home 'right now'... when I asked her what I should tell the seminar speaker as to why I wasn't attending... she said 'tell him you have strep throat and you have to go home RIGHT NOW'.
She's six, and she's really got my number.
Posted by: drdrA | November 19, 2008 3:12 PM
I admired Dr. Isis already... and now I totally respect her.
Posted by: Tina | November 24, 2008 9:32 PM