Have I made going to LA my entire personality?? Not going to lie it kind of feels like it, but when I finally have something to share/talk about outside of motherhood stuff I try to lean fully in because I miss parts of myself that existed pre-kids. Plus, it won’t happen until my next trip in 6-8ish months (I usually go 1-2x/year), so soon you’ll be done hearing about it I promise.
Let’s start from the beginning… leaving my kids and saying goodbye. I’ve talked about this before, but I definitely get *very* anxious leaving the boys. I am always okay once I’m there, but getting out the door is extremely hard for me. I convince myself that everything is going to wrong, they won’t be able to survive without me, and every other potential spiral my brain could possibly go down. For me, this one specifically was around our baby’s sleep. He hadn’t been sleeping the past week at the beach and I was so torn up about it. I wasn’t sure if it was a regression, teething, or just a change of scenery, but we were up pretty much all night all week and I was panicking about leaving while he was going through this. Part of it was because I felt badly that Joe was going to be alone managing this (not that he’s not capable, but it just straight up sucks), and the truly masochistic F’d up part of me was having a hard time because I (dare I say wanted??) felt like it needed to be me to soothe him. The comical thing about all of this is that as soon as I left he slept through the night 3 nights in a row. So, it begs the question, am I the problem??
Leaving the boys was one thing, packing for LA was another. We got home from the beach on Sunday morning around 10AM and I had to unpack everything from our week at the beach, figure out what I was bringing to LA, pack my bags, and get to the airport for my flight that afternoon. It was a ~whirlwind~ (its safe to assume that I completely lost it in and snapped at Joe for simply existing). But… we did it!! I made it to the airport and was ready for my first work LA trip post-baby.
Speaking of traveling post-baby… there is something so glorious about flying alone after having kids. Uninterrupted time to myself?? Sign me up. Whenever I am traveling by myself I show up as late as humanly possible (arrived 15 minutes before my flight was boarding) and am the last person on that plane. I know that throws some people into a tizzy, but it is my preferred way of traveling. My version of ~living life on the edge~ (lol). Of course I had a full agenda for my LA flight consisting of: Summer House (I can’t fucking stop), To Be Magnetic work (more to come on this! I am in the very early stages, but excited for what’s to come), cross-stitching, and some video editing for upcoming episodes. Of course, I did not come prepared and, like every other single time I’ve ever flown, the WiFi didn’t work. This was such a comical experience for me to observe myself go through because I just kept gaslighting myself into believing that it would work if I just hit refresh one. more. time. To no one’s surprise: it didn’t. After endless amounts of tries, I eventually gave up and watched Anyone But You on the airplane TV and my god was it awful (sorry). Either way, I persisted and made it to La La land!!!
To be honest, I’m not an LA girlie. Here is why…