Weekend Away

It had been on the calendar for months.  Rachel's Bachelorette Party.  A weekend away.  A weekend away.  Did you hear me?  A weekend away!  Not just away from home - but away from Frankie.  Yikes.  It's one thing to leave him during the day while I'm at work, but overnight?  Over two nights?  The thought gave me agida.  Yes, I was looking forward to a girl's weekend; I was sooo looking forward to a girl's weekend, but leaving your baby overnight is a big flippin' deal.  To me, at least.  He was certainly in good hands - I had no doubt that Frank could and would take perfect care of him.  (Really, I knew he would, despite making him recite Frankie's sleep and eating schedule to me a few times to ensure he really knew it.)  But it was still hard.  What if he wakes up during the night and needs me?  He hasn't been drinking much from his bottles lately - What if he doesn't drink enough throughout the whole weekend and needs me?  What if he just misses me and needs me?  What if something bad happens and he needs me? You know, all of these crazy scenarios run through your head and then you feeling guilty for leaving.  But, let's face it - The biggest obstacle to overcome was just the fact that I was going to miss my baby.  Miss him like crazy.  There were tears leading up to my departure - A few nights prior, I asked Frank if he thought I would cry while I left - And while asking the question, I broke down.  But...I left...without tears!  Well, without any streaming down my face.  I didn't let them well up enough in my eyes to pour out.  Off we went - Kelly and I - on our road trip to Lake Anna for Rachel's big weekend.

And you know what?  Frankie survived!  I survived!  Frank survived!  And I had a great weekend.  I had fun!  It was nice to slowly eat three meals a day.  It was nice to wake up at my leisure.  I even blow dried my hair!  It was a great weekend with girlfriends.  But I must admit that I had trouble letting myself go - I called Frank periodically to check on Frankie or ask for a picture update.  I shed a few tears while I 'talked' to Frankie on the phone.  Despite that pesky mommy guilt, I, along with the other 10 ladies, had a fabulous time celebrating Rachel!  We dubbed the weekend in a Mardi Gras theme in honor of Rachel's soon-to-be last name: French.  Let the good times roll, indeed.