This feels like a dream I have when I'm sleeping.
We missed Archer's last week of 2nd grade and Fable's last week of preschool and I feel unresolved. Unfinished business in the form of folders overflowing with artwork and music sheets for the Spring recital Archer wasn't there to perform.
I got so much honey that the bees envy me...
I sing along and he tells me to stop.
"I'm going to travel the world forever!" I used to say. Roots are like shackles. Rent's up, go forth!
And every time I dip my foot in different waters I am paralyzed with the knowledge that I must remove said foot. I must back slowly toward home. And now I'm here. And I love here, but I also love leaving... it feels good to get outside. Let's all go outside! The lighthouse is that way. Just a little farther down the road, quick, get your shoes on!
"See you at Christmas," my kids said to my sister as she hugged them goodbye.
Everything was perfect there... how do we go back?
"We can't go back."
That's the shitty thing about adulthood... saying those four words over and over and calling ourselves broken records as we do and "what's a record, Mommy?"
If only we could go back...
Wouldn't it be amazing to buy a big camper and pack up the kids and just... ride.
We could sell our house and buy a B&B on the eastern seaboard somewhere. Live in a sandy old house with wicker chairs...
Let's move into a lighthouse and grow beards and drink soup and sleep on the floor in sleeping bags until we die.
I'm up, I'm up! Okay, okay.
I'm up and we're up. At normal times now. Bodies once again acclimated to the changes and the changing back. And now we have all of these incredible moments we get to wet our hair with as we go about our days. As we work toward new goals, tear out old pages, look forward to day trips and the beaches where the sun sets instead of rises, the end.
But it was so beautiful there and everyone was so happy.