It happens several times a year: My husband takes a 10-day business trip to India, leaving me to juggle my own life, work, and the family alone. For the first few days he's gone, I slip into frenetic survival mode. I tuck my three children into my chest and imagine the four of us are a pack of homeless dogs or a band of boy scouts, setting off for a week in the woods with nothing but a bag of almonds and a metal trowel.