Exhausted
I’m cooked.
My folks have been here keeping the ladies busy while John and I work on the boat. Climbing in and out of a crowded hatch a dozen times a day is an act my body is having a hard time remembering. Crazy to think that soon I’ll be guiding two little bodies down into the boat, a dozen times a day.
But the work is so satisfying. It reminds John and I of a time when it was just the two of us. In the midst of the dust and drilling, the heat and the grime, it feels good to be together. It feels especially good to be finishing this little house for our little family. It is now and forever ours; our ticket to the world.
Meanwhile Rosy’s contracted some mysterious stomach ailment and poops all the time but hardly ever pees. Talk about tugging at the angst of a non-vaxing, swine-terrified mama. She’ll be fine, but she’s not sleeping when I’m sleeping (she’s fine until I get to bed, and then all hell breaks loose), so it’s been a rough three or four nights. As my mother would say, with kids, “there’s always something.”
We leave for our first real family vacation in two short days. Lazy, chilly mornings in Maine await us. I have to remember to print the inumberable confirmations and directions, to pack the appropriate reading material and DVDs and sweaters (!!). It will be thrilling to be back in New England.
And just think. We’ll be coming back to a home almost ready for a trip back home.
