Two! Sleeps! 'Til Brooklyn!

We are coming up on some exciting weeks around these parts. Long weekend adventures to my favorite city to see a favorite auntie and her adorable son, a week-long visit from another favorite auntie and her beautiful daughter, and in a stunning trifecta, Little A.'s favorite teacher will be babysitting ALL the girl cousins during our weekend retreat to an amazing spot, all on the books. Oh and we can't forget the tentative quick trip to Boston to say goodbye to some good friends. In between we'll hit the beach and the pool and stay over at the lake. So, yeah, we love August, in advance.

My good friend (and obviously one of my biggest inspirations -- thanks for all the writing prompts, Lynn!) recently shared her feelings about traveling with kids. Hell on earth, she says. And I can definitely see where she's coming from. About 2 hours in to our 3.5 hour flight home from a recent trip to Florida (which had a whole host of problems, really deserving of its own post), Baby G. got restless and spent a good 45 minutes slapping and poking me. It wasn't malicious, really, but really. Slapping. Poking. Jumping. All the while increasing her vocal volume until people started turning around to see what the fuss was all about. Finally I dumped her into my dad's lap and hissed YOU TAKE HER NOW and went to stand by the bathroom and pretended not to know any of my travel party for 15 minutes. There might have been a quick glass of wine involved but I'll never tell.

So. Was it relaxing? No. I was utterly exhausted by the time we got home. But was it worth it? Yes. I can safely say: yes. Though I didn't get to loll on a chair and read trashy magazines or even have one fruity cocktail without wondering if someone was going to drown or get sunburned or wake up and need tending, there were so many lovely moments. Watching the girls through my fingers as they run away from my beach chair to the edge of the Gulf of Mexico, holding their grandfather's hand. Discovering the tiny baby coconut that would become Little A.'s prized possession. Reconnecting with a dear friend while our little girls slept all piled into the same room. And all of our trips are like that. Tiring/exhilarating. Stressful/amazing.

So I'll start packing tonight, for my first solo road trip with the girls. Even though I know there will be moments of hell during our 6-hour drive, once we get there, and on the way home. Even though I just spent an arm and a leg on road snacks that will be eaten within the first 45 minutes. Because we need to walk to the coolest playgrounds in the coolest neighborhood in my most favorite city in the whole wide world. Because I don't want Little A. to think Maine bagels are actually BAGELS. Because I wouldn't miss the chance to see my dear friend and her boy play with my girls. Because I need to sit on a roof with my girlfriends and see and hear the same sights and sounds of my long-gone self-centered single gal days. Because I love to travel, and goddammit, so will my kids.

(Wish me luck, though, seriously.)

xoxo, A