Monday afternoon, in a wild swirl of hugs and kisses, I said goodbye to my kids for six days and nights to go on assignment in Chicago. I have to say, the emotions associated with work trips never fail to blindside me. On the one hand, frankly, it's awesome to have a break from the day-to-day. Mine is a two-full-time-working-parents household, with a 9-year-old and a 6-year-old. My husband and I are both Scout troop leaders. The kids take gymnastics classes. If it's not one thing going wrong in terms of maintaining our '50s-era house, it's another. Add in a nightly homework load that I personally find ridiculous, and most nights by 9:30 I'm wiped. Done. Finished. So, comparatively speaking, a work trip should be a welcome break. Even something to look forward to. But somehow it never seems to play out that way for me. I can't wait to get away. And then I feel guilty for feeling that way. I think part of the issue may be that my trips are rare, maybe once or twice a year. Perhaps if I left a little more often we'd all get better accustomed to it. When my son's eyes fill with tears, I get a lump in my throat I can't swallow. I remind him that as an owner of an iPhone (his begged-for and gleefully received Christmas gift) he can text me as often as he wants, and we'll catch up on FaceTime in the evenings. He's still bummed and, therefore, so am I. Do you take trips without your kids? If so, do you feel guilty? If not, for whatever reason, do you wish you could? Tell me in the comments.