Decisions, Decisions

Being a mom is difficult sometimes.

I know. That's the understatement of the year.

But I'm serious. There are times when I really want to be selfish. There is an opportunity that you really want to take and you find yourself at that decision-crossroad staring down the road of each choice.

And the one road is beautiful. I mean, beautiful. It has beautiful scenery and serenity and FUN! With no bumps and no hills and it stretches on forever with a beautiful sunset at the end. But as you stare down that road, you realize that if you go down that road, then there will be tremendous sacrifice involved that really doesn't impact you as much as it does other people, and you try and figure out if that proverbial price is worth it. I mean, it WOULD BE SO MUCH FUN!

And today I had one of those decisions to make (kind of). The kind when you realize that a decision is bigger than you.

There is a list of places that I've always told my husband that if he has to travel there for work, that I want to go and to please please please take the wife. The short list is as follows: Italy, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, Ireland and Scotland. OK, so it's not so short. But sometimes he gets to go these places, but more often than not, it is somewhere like China or Taiwan and as much as I do kind of want to go there, I'd rather go to one of those other places first.

Well sometime soon, husband may have to go to Germany.

I don't think you understand. That's like my mother ship.

I know some German, having studied it in high school and college, and I took my sister with me on a overseas study/backpack across Germany in college. It is one of my favorite places ever. Ever. I dream about going back. Nightly.

So when he mentioned that he may be going (in a by-the-way I may be going to Berlin type of way), my heart lifted, I got all giddy and excited and my butt came off the seat and my arm shot in the air like there was a team captain standing in front of me looking for a team of great players (Pick me! Pick me! Ooh ooh! Pick me!!). The skies literally opened and sang to me from the heavens and the sunlight peeked through the clouds and shined on me.

It was magical.

And then there were the "poo poo" moments when husband said mean deterring things like "Flights are outrageous though" and "Who will watch the kids" and crazytalk like that.

Then I secretly check flight costs when he's in the bathroom see that they're not actually that bad, I mean, actually they're quite doable. And I think about the week, ok, I can have the kids go here for half the week, then they can go here..." and the plan becomes more clear and visible and doable in my head, and I really start to get giddy and I think WOOHOOO THIS CAN REALLLY HAPPEN WEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Because I so love to travel. I lurve it. Lurrrve it. And I don't do it nearly enough. Hardly ever, really. I mean, sure, I take short trips. And those are fun. But I don't travel. And I'm getting that itch. Bigtime.

Then I go to bed and there is one unresolved "issue" that I have not reconciled yet and it is looming over me and keeping me from sleeping because all I can think about is how to solve this one little eensy weensy issue.

I'm still nursing.

So. I can go to Germany and pump the whole time, but there is the little issue of the actual flight which is something like 7 hours, not including the stopovers at two different airports. And where do you pump at the airport? Or on the plane, for that matter? You just can't. And I would bust! So that's not really an option.

So then I could bring the baby, but let's face it, there's all that gear involved...naps, and I don't know if that would really be worth the trip either. So that's not really an option. I mean it could be. But not really.

Which brings me to the only other possible option: Weaning. He'll be almost 9 months, he is teething, which means there is biting involved right now (but I know that will pass) and sometimes I don't know if he's getting enough milk or if I'm making enough milk and I get frustrated, but still I trudge on. Because I know deep down that it's really ok and not an issue. I think.

So there it is. The crossroad.

And I didn't even have to make the decision, really. It made itself. This morning.

I was nursing Mini before his morning nap and there he was. That little head. He'd fallen asleep while nursing and it was like a picture out of a magazine. The perfect silhouette of his face with his perfect baby head in the crook of my arm. So peaceful, so loving. So trusting.

And then there were tears in my eyes. Because I'm not ready to end this perfectness. Not yet. Not for a trip. Not because of my selfishness.

And I realized that some decisions, even like a (dream) trip to Germany, are actually decisions that are bigger than me. With other people involved. And there's no way I can rationalize going, no matter how much fun and wonderfulness I know that I would experience. It's just not worth it. In the grand scheme of things, it's just not that important.

I mean, there's plenty of time in life to do all that, right? I hope so.

Decisions, Decisions

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2008/08/decisions-decisions.html