I traveled for several years prior to kids and when they were little. Once they were born, I started to pull back. The worst time was late afternoon the day before I would have to leave and start to get things packed.
Now I don’t travel anymore and it is awesome. The caveat is that I like my wife and kids.
Traveling for fun is awesome. Traveling for work sucks shit through a straw. So does eating out every night and sleeping with the smell of hotel sheets. As does forgetting what room you are in because you are in a different hotel than you were this morning. And forgetting to charge your iPod, so you have to pound out your run with only the depressing whine of a shitty hotel treadmill and your exhalations there to fill the predawn mausoleum of the hotel gym. And pretending to be interested in what the local sales guy or client thinks about life, the universe and everything after they have dragged you to the best new restaurant in town, Texas Roadhouse, that just opened up and has a fucking one hour wait on a God Damn Tuesday at 6:30, but that’s okay because it the one time this year that their fat little wives let them out of the house, since it’s for work, on their own so of course we can wait.