So recently, I found myself scheduled for not one but three trips without my child.

And I started feeling a little guilty.  Okay, I’ll admit it.  I started feeling a lot guilty.  After all, I’m a so-called Travel Savvy Mom.  What’s a trip without a little child, a little puke and a whole lotta temper tantrums thrown in?  Would the child-free travel experience measure up to the richness I encounter when I go places with Chet?  How would he react to being left behind?  Heck, how would I react to leaving him behind?

I was lucky enough to have a bulletproof childcare plan.  Chet’s Dad would watch him for two of the trips and my Mom for the other.  I knew he would be well cared for.  But I couldn’t help but feel like I was a bad Mommy for going out on my own.

So I asked my Mommy friends how they dealt with the guilt of leaving kids behind while traveling.  After receiving a few incredulous stares, they gave me the skinny.

“Oh, no.  Your Mom can’t watch him.  You’re not going to ask me to watch him, are you?”

“There’s nothing to feel guilty about.  He’s going to be so spoiled by Grandma he won’t even notice you are gone.  She’s the one who should feel guilty.”

“Happy kids are those with happy Mommies.  And happy Mommies get to go have some adult time once in a while.”

“If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s impossible to feel guilty on your third Mai Tai.”

“Guilty?  Are you frickin’ kidding me?! There’s no time for guilt when you are making an escape.”

But still, guilty was how I felt.  I’ll admit the idea of having my own time was very appealing.  Getting to sleep past 6:30am in a hotel room, eat dinner at a restaurant that doesn’t serve french fries, and order a second glass of wine after dinner does sound quite intoxicating.  It just seems that I kind of forgot how one actually goes about doing those kind of things.

With two of my three trips down, I’m happy to say that it’s just like riding a bicycle.  It is a true relief to say that one never loses the ability to motion the waiter back over for another round. (But there are very few restaurants that do not serve french fries — and if you ask your hotel concierge to find one for you, expect a very strange look).

I have to admit that I loved getting back out there and traveling solo—even if only for a few days.  I enjoyed my alone time and definitely got a lot of work done.  And despite my absence, Chet managed to not only survive, but thrive under the care of others.  With that, most of my guilt was quickly diminished.  But you know, the missing him remained.  Even after my fourth Mangotini.

In Bruges, an advertisement for the French Fry museum made me a bit weepy.  I had refused to take him when we traveled there together the year before.  And in New York?  I could have spent an afternoon going to a museum that doesn’t appreciate the 4-year-old set but instead found myself wandering amongst the knee-high masses at the Museum of Natural History.  Traveling on your own is definitely easier and it is a lot of fun.  But there’s just something about traveling with my boy…

Perhaps I should space out future trips that I do on my own to really appreciate them as they should be appreciated.  Or barring that, try my friend’s trick and switch to Mai Tais.

So what about you, dear readers?  How do you handle the guilt (if there is, indeed, anyone else out there that actually feels guilty about it) when traveling without your kids?

April 27th, 2009 | by Kayt Sukel 5 comments