Leaving (check) on a Jet Plane (check)

On Friday David and Nate are leaving on a father-son trip. To San Francisco. Without me, or Jake.

This trip has been a year in the making. You see last summer I went to BlogHer’08 in San Francisco and I asked my husband to come with the kids. I thought it would be a nice chance for me to have some "me" time at the conference and then have some family time after the fact. It proved to be one of my less brilliant ideas from a logistical point of view, but otherwise, at least for Nate, it was a blast.

Nate ate calamari for the first time and loved it. He rode up and down hills on famous streetcars and he went up and down the hotel’s glass elevator too many times to count. He walked for miles, all the way to the science center one day, and he held his nose the entire time we were at Fisherman’s warf.

It was the trip of a lifetime.

And we heard about it every day for weeks: “When are we going back to Santo Cisco?”

Gradually it lessened to every other day.

And finally, weekly. At which point we thought he would eventually give up the rally call. But no. So, somewhere in November, David asked me if he should take a special father-son trip with Nate, back to San Francisco.

I thought it was a brilliant idea, as did Nate whose Diego suitcase has been packed, with 20 toys, a newspaper for Daddy to read, and his favourite shirt since then.

We’re two days away.

Can I mention that I’m a little excited. And even more nervous?

What if Nate runs out in front of a car? What if David forgets to apply sunscreen and make him wear a hat? What if they get bored? What if Nate doesn’t wear his seatbelt on the airplane and they hit one of those sudden altitude drops? What if it can’t live up to the first trip?

I am the worrier in the family.

I’m excited for my boy. Excited for his adventure. I hope that many memories stay with him forever. I hope that he discovers more great qualities than the ones he already knows in his dad. Frankly, I hope I survive the trip and an absence made all the more poignant in that it is they who are leaving me. My first born child is growing up far too rapidly.

I don’t think I’m ready.

::: This is an original Canada Moms Blog post. Mandy also explores life and its intricacies at The Gratton Grapevine:::