I whined, I complained, I came up with reasons why I just couldn’t go to Harrisburg, Pa., for the All American Dairy Show.

But this time, there was no way I could get out of it. I had the company credit card and a ride east, so it was inevitable; I was going to spend three days covering one of the biggest dairy shows in the nation.

Normally I was all about heading to the show. I would pack my bags, tuck my laptop under my arm and I was out the door. But this time was different. Maybe it was because I couldn’t take any of my kids along.

Maybe it was because our county fair is the following week and then I would be headed to World Dairy Expo two days after that.

Or maybe it was because I just didn’t want to leave my family behind. Whatever the reason, I hugged and kissed my family goodbye and hopped in my ride to Pennsylvania.

After driving all night to get there – which is something I don’t recommend for two mothers in their forties – we arrived just in time to take a three-hour nap and then sit ringside to begin our three-day dairy show reporting frenzy.

As I took pictures and reported on the show, I visited with other women and found out I wasn’t the only mom who had second thoughts about coming to the show and whose undivided attention was not on the task at hand.

The mother/ reporter on my right was busy trying to resolve an issue of drug testing for her daughter’s college volleyball team while getting up to snap pictures of the winners for the state of Pennsylvania.

The mom on my left was trying to figure out how she could get done with her duties at the show and still manage to make the five-hour drive home to tuck her son into bed on his fifth birthday.

The mom down in the trade show was trying to figure out how she could get an earlier flight home because she missed her husband and five kids.

Multitasking, we all compared notes and made each other feel a little less guilty about being away from the farm, while spending time working at jobs we truly enjoyed. We also talked about how we were getting too old for this and that if we were home, we wouldn’t be eating so many Hershey bars and cheese curls.

When the show was over and we said our goodbyes, we realized our days spent doing what we really didn’t want to do was actually a good thing, changing our perspectives on just how good we have it.

And as we walk into a house that has dirty dishes in the sink and a stinky laundry room, we may all wish we were back ringside, munching on Hershey bars and cheese curls.

The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with questions or comments for Melissa Hart may write to her in care of this publication.