I'm in Chicago. Which is cool, because I've never been to Chicago...only, I'm not really IN Chicago...I'm near Chicago.
I'm visiting mailshops in the Chicago area. And, if you know anything about mailshops - but really why would you unless you work in the industry - they are not in fancy places. They do not take up space in the penthouse with an amazing view. They reside in the bowels of a city. Usually in a warehouse, lost in a sea of warehouses.
So I have not seen the sites of Chicago...instead I've been driving around the industrial gut of Chicago...places like Burr Ridge and McCook and Palos Hills.
But still, it's a nice change of pace to get out of the office and I was treated to an amazing dinner and I got to stay in a hotel by myself!
Do you know what that means? If you are a mommy of young children, then staying in a hotel by yourself is the stuff dreams are made of...it doesn't matter where it is.
I got a bed to myself.
I got to take the longest, hottest shower.
I got to watch whatever I wanted.
I got to go to the bathroom by myself.
I got to read.
I got to blog and visit blogs without feeling any guilt.
But...
I didn't get to rock Freddie to sleep.
I didn't hear "I love you Mommy" from Ainsley this morning.
I didn't get to cuddle.
I didn't get to watch Dora or Tom and Jerry or Phineas and Ferb with an excited little girl.
A hotel is a very quiet place...and though a little break is nice, I miss the noise.
