It’s no secret that I’m a working mom. It’s also no secret that I am pretty addicted dedicated to my work…almost to the point of “Seriously Katherine, take a freakin’ vacation day off already!” At work, I have been helping plan an event for the last few months that will take place in Minnesota. When I was told that I would not be needed for the event, Andy and I made plans to take Rylee on her first camping trip. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have planned anything for that time…especially something as fun as Rylee’s first camping trip! That’s typically the way things happen, right? I was “asked” if I could go…of course I can. Camping trips can be rearranged. There wasn’t really anyone else that could go for what I will need to be doing. Oh wait, who am I kidding, I’m almost positive we could find at least 1 other person to go and help, but let’s not forget I have been helping to plan this event and well? I’m Type-A. Enough said.
Since I am going to be out for a week, I figured I would enlist the help of a couple of my favorite blogger-mamas (I kind of hate that term, but hey, we’re moms and we blog, it’s kind of what we are). They have graciously accepted the challenge! They are both working moms like me, so I asked them to write about their first trips away from their little ones.
This will not be my first trip away from Ry, but I’m not actually sure I ever wrote about my first trip away. So, to kick off the “Out of the Office Week” I figured I would do just that…
I know I’ve written before about how I was back at work 3 weeks after Rylee was born and that there were no tears shed that warm early Summer morning. In fact birds were chirping, deer were bounding and I? was running out the door.
About that same time I was going back to work, I was also in the depths of helping coordinate our sponsorship obligations for an event. We were sponsoring this really great outdoor competition and the regionals were just wrapping up. After the regionals were the finals. As the archery sponsor of the event, every competitor was to receive a new bow to use in the final competition that was to be held at the end of Summer. It was somewhat expected that someone from our company actually be at the event. As the main point of contact for the event personnel and competitors, that person was me.
I was going to be taking a trip away from my baby when she was only 3 months old…cue the tears. Cue the anxiety. Cue the…no wait. Back-up. I was so excited!
The details of me getting ready to leave and even most of the trip are pretty fuzzy by now, but I remember clearly how I stressed over how I was going to pump while I was away. (If you didn’t know, I was able to nurse/pump all the way until Ry turned her nose to my boob at the ripe old age of 11 months.) We called the hotel and made sure to get a mini-fridge. I did my research about flying with breastmilk on TSA’s website. I made sure I packed plenty of freezer milk bags, extra bottles and extra little triangle jobbies that went with my pump. I bought extra batteries and even packed the power cord for the pump 3 days early so I wouldn’t forget it.
Like I mentioned, most of the actual trip is a blur, but there is one particular moment that I will never, ever forget. During the day of the actual archery competition, taking place over a half-hour away from my hotel, I had to take my pump with me in a backpack. At the point when I could wait no longer, I had to think fast. About ten minutes later? I was pumping in a porta-potty. A PORTA-POTTY, people! If that doesn’t SCREAM dedicated working-mom, I don’t know what would. In fact, I think pumping in a porta-potty takes working-mom to a whole new level.
On the way home, I had 4 days worth of pure liquid gold in a cooler. I was nervous about going through security. And I think righfully so. This was just after they had passed that 3-1-1 rule, or whatever they call it. I for SURE had more than allowed amount of liquid I was planning to carry on. I made it through the metal detector and then it happened. I was pulled aside by a dude-TSA worker.
He unzipped my cooler, took one look at the boobie attachments that go with my pump, turned a pretty little shade of pink, zipped the cooler back up and sent me on my way.
The rest of the trip was smooth sailing.
Of course, by the time I got home I didn’t let the child out of my sight for the rest of the weekend.
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And, last order of business, since I won’t be around to vote for myself…err, I mean, to ask for you lovely people to vote for me…here’s a quick reminder.