I'm getting ready to head out of town for a library conference. In many ways I'm excited to go. I haven't been to this particular conference since Wesley was less than a year old and the sessions I'm planning on attending look really good. I get along quite well with the person I'm rooming with, I have a few good books to take and I don't have to fly to get there. I should be on cloud nine.
But I'm not.
No matter how much I am looking forward to going, part of me dreads it too. I'm just a homebody at heart. I'd rather be with my hubby and kids than any place else on earth and being away from them, even for just a few days, is always rough on me. I get sad a few days before I even leave and call or text home several times a day.
Pathetic, I know.
Wesley and Ryan get in on the act too. I have told them when I am leaving and when I'm returning and each time they tell me they don't want me to go and how much they will miss me when I'm gone. They hold onto me extra tight and ask if I "really have to go."
Add to this the fact that there is going to be 30 degree difference in the weather during the four days/three nights I'm there and I'm really in a per-conference daze. The good news is that once I"m there I know I'll have a fantastic time. I always do - and there's coming home to look forward to.
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