Every now and then I get to leave the nest, myself. (big props to my mom who my children have affectionately named, "Momo") There is nothing like getting away for just a couple of days to really set your head straight and put priorities back in perspective.
However, as the day of departure approaches I always have a series of small panic attacks that gradually build and culminate in a full-fledged cry right before I leave. The thought of being away from my kids isn't terrifying, it's the thought of what might happen while I'm gone that scares me.
One particular time, I returned from a trip to find that while I was away my daughter "blossomed" in the span of three days. Seriously... full bloom. She's TEN. Are you picking up what I'm putting down? TEN. Lady bottom, mood swings, and all.
I left behind my little girl, and came home to a "wow it's great to see you...you didn't get me a WHAAAAAAAHHHHH!" pre-teen. The scariest part is what's in the near future...the P word.
I've got the vapors.