I’m trying to tamp down the mommy guilt I am going to feel for the next 6 days.  I’m headed to New York for an almost week-long live in-person closing.   I’m worried that when I return, my 5-year-old will be a teenager.   And my 2-year-old, well he might be playing with Darth Vader and Luke Sykwalker — oh wait, that’s already happening.

Believe me, I’m thrilled to be involved in this deal — it’s sophisticated, high profile, and filled with lots of really good legal work (I do actually still like doing that).   But certainly the “deal-high” I’m bound to feel in about 24 hours won’t replace the “Mommy, you’re home!” high I feel every day.   I already miss those little faces.

And the guilt, oh, the guilt.  I usually am pretty good about keeping that in check — I really try and be zen about the whole thing — keeping things in perspective — remembering that most of the time, quality is better than quantity (true, right?!).  But I have to admit that this one is going to be difficult for me.   Perhaps if I was headed to a spa instead of a big conference room in Manhattan it might be a little easier to digest.  Or maybe not.

So hopefully, when I return, my 5 year-old will still be building train tracks and won’t be playing an X-Box.  And my 2 year-old will still be in diapers.  Or maybe not.

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