I was away last week, from Saturday morning through Friday night, to attend a work conference. I've done this every September since Hoss started preschool, so it's nothing new. Yet every year, I spend half of my small talk conversations answering questions about who is taking care of the children. My husband's work schedule is mostly predictable; perhaps it's not normal (concerts and back to school nights and such don't lend themselves to a M-F, 9-5), but we know what's coming, so we do the best we can to compensate for his need to solo parent during the week I'm gone. My solo parenting tends to be of a shorter duration, but happens far more often over the course of the year. In the eleven years since we became parents, I don't ever recall anyone asking who was taking care of our children when Hubby was working. We contributed equally to the creation of the kids, so it's a bit out of line to be shocked that we'd both be expected to raise them.
I was Hoss' age when my dad started taking business trips. Those were the days before free long distance minutes on cell phones, or emails and texts to compensate for time zone differences or tough scheduling. Keeping up with the goings-on at home is much easier thanks to technology, but that same technology enables me to fall into a mentality that makes me feel as though I should still be on top of the homework and the evening activities and the communication with the school the same as I would at home. There is something endearing about a Gmail message waiting for me at the end of a 14 hour workday, and the letdown that goes with my day ending after the rest of the family has drifted off to sleep is mitigated by being able to send a return message.
Maybe this means that when Princess is old enough to travel for business and fear that her own kids feel neglected, she'll be able to pull up the virtual Mommy to leave at home with them, and they'll never know she's gone.
