Garbage Guilt — Life at Lancaster Land

Go out, they said. It will be fun, they said.

Okay, we’ll do it.

And then we’ll feel like garbage. As soon as we leave the house. Sounds like a dream, right?

In JANUARY of 2020, we bought concert tickets.

It was January, of 2020. So, you can imagine the concert was rescheduled once, twice, three times. And then it was here. My parents, who are wonderful and kind and generous and who my children absolutely adore for all the right reasons agreed to stay overnight while Joey and I went to said concert. They were to get take-out and to watch movies and to just enjoy the sleepover. The end. Everyone was SO excited.

So excited.

My mom arrived, got some snuggles from Elsie and Leo and I finished getting ready. We were staying at an airport hotel (another long story - Joey had a 4 a.m. wake-up call the next day for a flight for the beginning of a week-long motorcycle adventure), so we packed a few things, said our goodbyes and were about to head out. I would be back in 12 hours, before anyone was awake.

And then, it happened. Alligator tears, sobbing through verbal cries, Elsie’s arms were locked around my torso.

Please, don’t go. I don’t want you to go.

I tried to rationalize all the reasons being gone was going to be okay - she’d have so much fun with grandma and grandpa. I’d bring breakfast treats in the morning. I’d be back before she even woke up. We weren’t going far.

Please, don’t go.

PLEASE.

Don’t go.

I nestled into her, told her how much we loved her and how important it was for grown ups to have grown up time and that she’s very safe with Grandma and then I picked her up, sat her on the couch, pivoted and ran to the door. I closed the door quickly but quietly and then hopped in the car, which Joey had running. And, I felt like garbage. My heart was racing. My stomach turning.

Garbage.

I felt like calling it all off.

Garbage.

The guilt had me feeling like total trash. And we were on our way to this thing we had planed for literally two and a half years, and I wanted nothing more than to just go home and snuggle my babies. It wasn’t worth it.

Tell me you’ve been there - those moments, and we have so many, that you’d sacrifice yourself again and again for the happiness of your little people? That your needs, wants, the things that used to make you whole get put on the back burner because those little ones are your whole world? It sounds selfish, but especially over the last two and a half years, when it’s all been just so heavy and so riddled with worry and all of it, a little time and a little bit of a different kind of joy - I don’t know, we were really hungry for that.

Tell me I’m not alone. I mean, I hope I am, but I bet I’m not.

But then, you know what? We drove for about five minutes before I checked in with my mom.

They’re fine, everything’s fine. Have a great time.

She sent pictures. They were fine. Everything was fine.

I breathed. Deeply with gratitude, I breathed.

The traffic was terrible, the company was wonderful, the weather was awful, the concert was magic, the 4 a.m. wake-up was challenging and the breakfast treats were delicious.

I’m just saying, if you have the means and you have the village (I realize this is really hard), take the time. Everyone will be better for it.

Also, thanks mom and dad <3 And to Joey who reassured me it was okay to keep driving.

Pic above is proof we made it.