A few days ago, my brother (who lives in California) called me and said, “Hey, I’m in New York for a few weeks for work. Why don’t you get a plane ticket and come visit me?”
My non-thinking self: “Heck yeah! I’ll be there in ten minutes!”
My thinking (and true) self: “I don’t know…”
“What if I die in a plane crash?”
“Who will take care of my kids?”
“Who will make sure they wear clothes that fit them and shoes that match their outfits?”
Well, my non—thinking self won. My best friend assured me that the evil thing we call “mom guilt” had snuck up on me, and I needed to go. And have FUN.
I’m still stressing just a bit (it’s what I do), but I’m hoping to be fully immersed in all things New York by tomorrow with no worries to hold me back!
So I’ll be leaving these little love nuggets…
and really wishing this guy would be holding my hand on the plane.
While I’m certainly more than excited to see this skyline, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that mean ol’ mom guilt is always nagging at me. That’s normal, right?
Have a great weekend!