NYC or Bust

simmering soup

Goodbye, warm little kitchen.

Bethany and I leave for NYC tomorrow.  We're taking the red-eye, hoping to sleep on the way, but not really caring.  I do care about how to fit in all the meals and snacks we're planning, though.  Is there a way to stretch my stomach? Stretch the hours in the day?

I'll really miss the kids by the time I come home.  I love that feeling.  Sometimes when I'm slogging through the day-to-day, I can't imagine missing them. I can get on my soapbox about mothers taking time away.  We need it so desperately, but we fall into the trap of thinking we're indispensable.  Please, please--call up your mom or your mother-in-law or your co-worker who's offered to babysit a million times.  Get it on the calendar. If you're anything like me, making the request is the most difficult part.   Once I do (whether it's for childcare, grace to extend a deadline, etc.), I am always blown away by the "Yes!" that's comes in one form or another.  But we can't get what we need unless we ask for it.  Okay. Stepping down from the soapbox now.

It changes the way I see everything--NYC or my backyard--to know I can share it with you.  Reminds me again how all of us need witnesses to our lives.  It might not be as public as a blog, but experiences are seldom complete without the retelling of them.  I'll come back with photos, restaurant menus, less money, big hugs for my kids and husband, and stories for you.  See you soon.