"What a working mother will do to relieve a little guilt" By Maria Bailey We've all had those moments when you get sent on a business trip during the week of your daughters dance recital or a project deadline causes your children to go to bed without their mother's kiss and bedtime story. You know the feeling. When you drag your tired body home long after the lights in your house are out. You stand over your son or daughter's bed with hose still on and pumps in hand and you wonder if it's all worth it. I always just attributed the rush of emotions to jet lag or hunger. I always estimate that I'll be over the feeling sometime between my shower and the Jay Leno show. This particular day, my son had called me at the office to say goodnight and asked me to promise him that I would kiss him goodnight when I came home. Of course, I made the promise and sealed it with our secret code words for a super-dupper important promise. I could tell that he missed me and I was disappointed in myself that I was once again working late. The feeling made me sad and haunted me as I rapidly tried to finish a marketing plan, which I knew would be changed with the next management meeting. That's always when you start hearing those voices in your mind say, "What will you be remembered for when you are gone, a perfectly orchestrated excel spreadsheet, or the quality of your child?" I knew that I'd try to find a way to spend an extra special moment with him to make it up. It's my way of managing the whole work and family balance thing. Upon arriving home, I wearily went through my routine: look over school papers; pick up random evidence that four children and a husband live here and a shower for myself. I was saving my goodnight kiss for the finale of my day. As I put on my pajamas, I listened to the snoring of my husband. I wonder if his dreams included a long list of reminders and uncompleted tasks? Didn't sound like it at the moment. Upstairs finally standing in my children's room, I smiled as I looked at all three of my children soundly sleeping in their bunk beds and trundle. It makes me chuckle inside that my husband and I worked so hard to buy a four-bedroom house yet they elect to sleep all in one room. As I kissed each one goodnight, no one even rolled over to acknowledge my gesture. I wanted to make sure they knew I kept up my end of the bargain but how? Then it came to me. I thought about how many times Owen had requested me to snuggle with him in his bed. It was time for a spontaneous decision. Not only was I going to uphold my end of the promise to kiss him good-night, I was going to let him know I was there by letting him find me in his bed when he woke up in the morning. So I climbed into the trundle of the bunk bed. There I was. Me, my son, Lucky, his stuffed Notre Dame leprechaun, two blankies and some unidentified toy sticking into my calf. I needed a good night sleep but some things are more important and this was one of them. The night was to hold many challenges. A comforter turned horizontally. Cold toes. The wood railing that I was wedged up against every time I rolled over. I remained focused and committed to my son's emotion and my goal to relieve my guilty conscience. The moment of commitment revealed itself sometime in the wee hours of morning when I felt warm liquid seeping into the flannel of my pajama pants. Too tired to wake myself up, I drifted off again. Finally, the hour of reward was upon me. 6 a.m. brought my son's nudge and inquisitive look when he saw me sharing his pillow. As I awoke hesitantly to his, "hey, mom what are you doing in my bed?" I could smell what the warm water I felt earlier was. A little accident. As disgusting as it sounds it just didn't matter. No, it didn't matter at all. My son was happier than I had seen him in weeks and my pajamas could be washed. I don't know who was more amazed at my commitment to our promise, my son or myself that I had endured a sleepless night wedged into a trundle bed complete with a shower of bedwetting. All for the sake of emotion. What a mother won't do for her children. Have you got a story about motherly guilt? Share your experiences with other moms on our message boards. Maria Bailey is the mother of four and CEO of BlueSuitMom.com. Email her at maria@bluesuitmom.com