Leaving on a jet plane

I am preparing for a two-week international break. On my own. Alone.

I dare not show too much enthusiasm for fear of offending my nearest and dearest. If I act slightly pleased at the prospect, they may interpret this as me being relieved to be rid of them for a fortnight. They may think that I don't love them, or worse still, that I won't be coming back.

This morning I went to wake my eldest. I gave her the daily body-rub-to-get-going (a ritual that involves vigorous rubbing of arms, back and legs - great for wakening the senses and getting the circulation flowing). She didn't open her eyes. Instead, she held up all the fingers of her right hand and the thumb of her left hand.

"Six?" I asked. "What's six?"

"Six more days till you leave," she rolled over and pulled her duvet up over her head.

How am I supposed to take that? My five year old's first words to me in the morning are along the lines of I'm-counting-down-to-your-departure. What does it mean? 

For the past week my usually easy-going three year old has been grunchy and obstreperous. I was considering the possibility of premature PMT when I put my domestic puzzle together and realised that she might just be acting up in lieu of me leaving. Am I bad mother?

As for my adonis, well, I'm pretty sure he's not too thrilled about the prospect of my absence either. Don't get me wrong, he's been very supportive throughout (above and beyond the call of duty), but I sense he may be a little down about my trip. Am I bad wife?

Having just (as in the last month) dedicated myself completely to the health and welfare of my little family, putting my career aside to focus my attention on the needs and desires of the three people who mean the world to me, should I really be abandoning them to pursue my own wishes? Isn't that a little hypocritical? I am an awful person. Surely there is some kind of horrible punishment in the after-life for stay-at-home moms who abandon their posts. Perhaps I will be reincarnated as crash-test dummy, forever cursed with whiplash. Or maybe, if the re-incarnation thing doesn't materialise, I'll end up in heaven solely due to my Mother-status, and get assigned to the cherub's diaper department and do doo-doo duty for all eternity.