It's freedom, baby.

In a few weeks, I have a business trip to New York City, the big apple herself. I have to say, it's a little weird for me.

How many times have I asked just for this -- the ability to be baby-free for a weekend and talking to adults about stuff that doesn't involve how many times my kid pooped today or where you can find pull-ups on sale? How many times have I secretly wished for an opportunity to leave my son with his father for more than 2 hours so CPT Dick can see how truly exhausting full-time parenting can be?

And yet, as I made my travel arrangements, I felt my heart break just a little. Will Munchkin know that I'm gone? Will he cope? Will his Daddy be able to take care of him as well as I can? Either way, the answer isn't fully satisfying.

But the weirdest part? Seriously? It's the fact that I'm most looking forward to the plane ride. This just goes to show that I haven't fully assimilated that I'll be in NYC, playground for adults. But all I keep imaginging is a plane ride where I can pee when I want to. Where I can actually read a book, watch the movie or sleep. Where I don't have a sleeping child drooling all over my arm or screaming because I won't let him run up and down the aisles. Those couple hours to myself, suspended in the sky with my own agenda, well, that sounds just about as close to heaven as I might ever get.