April 1st, 2022
I’m on a plane, on my way back home after the first business trip ever. But that’s not the only first thing that happened to me this week, and this blog is about the experiences I went through and the funny discoveries I made.
The parents’ right not to share.
I forgot my toothbrush, so the first thing I did after checking in and leaving my lonely suitcase in the hotel room was go to the closest store. Walking under the bright light, flattering berries and greens, I realized that I wasn’t in the tickling rush I always feel in supermarkets.
I had nothing else to do, no one to read to or play with, so I decided to browse for a bit and see if there was anything I craved. I ended up getting three random items: raspberries, chocolate with orange zest, and Pringles. What I was buying at that moment was not just food or treats; it was the feeling of not having to share. I bought the right to eat them on my own, slowly, without hiding behind a bag of oats. Of course, I could do that at home too. And that’s what my husband does for me: he buys me chocolates, he knows the kinds I like, and he keeps the supply. But there was more to that. Show me a parent who buys a pack of berries to eat all by themselves. Yep, this species has not yet been discovered.
Do you think that four days was enough for me to finish everything I bought? Nope. I forced myself to eat the last handful of raspberries before checking out, and I brought the chocolate and Pringles home as souvenirs of freedom.
How hard will I miss my family?
On March 29th, I woke up in an empty room for the first time since I got married and became a mother, which means that I have never slept alone for the last 1800 nights. My husband and I started a family, moved to a different country, and changed careers, but I’ve never slept alone during this period of my life. That morning, the silence of my thoughts peacefully waiting until I was ready to approach them was palpable.
So, this week I got a chance to test out living on my own and face the scary truth: will I miss my husband and son or not? On a scale from 1 to 10, will I even give it a solid 8?
I was scared to enjoy the time on my own. I was afraid that I’d enjoy the life where there’s just me, my job, and my hobbies too much to stay considered a not-too-bad mom. And here’s what happened: my heart didn’t break when the plane was taking off at the Edmonton Airport or when I was going to bed alone. But I wasn’t celebrating in delight either. I felt a bit lost because I’m used to being anxious about packing everything my little one might need, about the way he feels and behaves, and now there was just me and… me.
The wave of the urgent need to hug and kiss Timofei behind the ear rushed on me twice. First, during our video call when I had to explain that I wouldn’t be putting him to bed that night, and second when I saw another kid of about the same age playing at the airport.
The outcome is that if I didn’t have these two, Denis and Tim, I’d have to spend much time figuring out what to fill my life with. With the whole work-from-home situation and the boundaries between professional and personal life being so vague, my family serves as a perfect switch between work and life modes. Every day, I have a hard stop at 5 pm because I need to go and pick Timmy up from the daycare. And a different routine starts: we get home, he asks to watch an episode of his favourite cartoon, we have dinner and talk about friends and events, read books, argue, go to a playground, and laugh. Without them, I’d need the discipline and motivation I don’t have to keep myself busy with anything but work.
The chameleon nature of Moms.
April 1st, I’m on a plane. I’m looking at a mom who spent three hours holding her child on her lap while he was sleeping. When the kid woke up and was taken for a quick plane tour by the father, that woman looked drained. This look of profound exhaustion that went far beyond just being physically tired was too familiar to me.
Somehow, mothers manage to turn Superwoman’s Mode on and off, depending on the situation. They are like chameleons changing the colour of their skin based on the environment, but they do that with their mood and energy level. I remember the same substantial shift from a girl to a mom in myself.
My first long flight was to Spain. We were on our way to spend three weeks honeymooning in mesmerizing Spanish cities. The flight was pretty long, and after about three hours, I got bored and tired and didn’t know what to do to keep myself busy. The second long flight was crossing the Atlantic from Istanbul to Toronto. It was a 10-hour flight that my husband spent watching films and sipping his drink, having been seated separately from us, and I was coming up with all possible ways to keep our 1-year-old from throwing a tantrum and waking up the whole plane. I had packed new toys, stickers, pegs, books, snacks, stickers – anything to keep him busy. Out of 10 hours, the only time gap I spent alone was when my husband took Tim, but he was a momma-boy, so it didn’t last long enough. I’m sure I looked the same way this woman on the plane did, and we both did the same thing once our babies were back. We were smiling and hugging them as if we had just woken up. There is an inevitable sacrifice in being a mom. And having a good dad next to you lets you share this sacrifice with another human, a soulmate if you will. And if this isn’t love, I don’t know what is.
Sometimes, I enjoy believing that I find signs showing that everything is as it should be. When I was typing this post on my way back home, Northern Lights were dancing outside my window. The soothing flow of green and yellow with a hint of purple reassured me that slowing down and paying attention was a skill worth working on.
That’s what I was thinking about on my first grown-ass woman business trip. Thanks for reading.
