It’s been over a week since we got back to the real world after the vacation Husband and I took just the two of us, and boy did we get back to reality. Since then we’ve had a family reunion event, work catch-up, Little Sister’s baby shower,
my in-law’s anniversary party, branding…
and zero time to unpack.
You should see my room.
No. You shouldn’t. I don’t even want to see my room.
Yes, summer’s arrived in full swing in our neck of the woods and so has begun the mad rush to fit in as much work and fun as we can in the 90 days we get of summer.
I love this time of year. Already the heat has sent Edie, Sylas my niece and me to the pool in town on opening day to take a dip,
running through the sprinkler, filling the baby pool, planting flowers, riding horses and all of the summer things I envisioned for us this year. It’s going to be a good one.
Now if we could just get some rain while we anxiously await the birth of the new addition to the clan. Little Sister is due in about two weeks, but just to freak her out I like to tell her she is for sure going early.
Any minute now…
She protests. But as she’ll soon find out, in motherhood, it’s best to just surrender the whole illusion of control thing.
It’s one of the reasons parents need vacations most of all.
I wish my parents had time for more of them when we were growing up. I’m sure we gave them plenty of reasons to want to leave us with the grandparents.
We’re just lucky we got the chance before this happens…
Coming Home: Time away together is an investment in each other
We said we would take a honeymoon later. I was on the verge of turning 23, out of college a couple years and on the road with my music. He was on the verge of 24 and climbing oil derricks, seven days on, seven days off and more if he could.
We were on a mission, on a roll, in love but on our own schedules.
We’d go when we had a bit more money.
We’d go in the winter when we craved the heat.
We’d go before the first baby.
We’d go. We promised we’d go.
But when you’re almost 23 and almost 24 you know nothing about time and how it sneaks up on you like the white streaks of hair around your temples or that old shoulder injury that grabs you when you’ve been fencing all day, and then suddenly you’re 10 years older and wiser, perhaps only because that’s what time forces on you.
And so we finally went. Last week, to honor those 10 years, we dug out our swimming suits, sent the toddler to her cousins’ and hopped a plane for a resort by the ocean, just the two of us, for the first time.
Oh, we’ve done plenty of traveling — work trips across the globe, family trips to the mountains, road trips and camping trips and trips to warm places with friends — but it was time to designate one of those tropical post-car trips for ourselves.
And I’m not saying you need to take vacations to places with sandy beaches and palm trees to stay in love, but I am saying it helps.
To see your man out of his element with the sole mission to relax, have fun and drink rum is like being reintroduced to the person you fell in love with before you had a toddler and cattle and a mortgage on a partially-finished house.
But if you hate long airplane rides or prefer, like one of my cowboy friends, that the air doesn’t get the chance to touch your legs outside your Wranglers, I’ve decided now that we’re back, sunburned and broke, that all you really need is a few days away somewhere.
Because if you don’t invest in each other, who will?
And part of the investment is remembering why you chose one another for this business of life in the first place. Funny how uprooting, for even a short amount of time, can help put it all in its place. I think it’s the daydream moments you get when you’re doing unfamiliar things, like swimming side-by-side in the ocean, watching the boats come in and out of the bay, wishing time would stand still so you never have to vacuum again …
And then a stingray swims between your legs and you jump up on your complimentary floaty faster than Michael Phelps wins gold medals and you’re reminded of the first of many reasons you’ve chosen life together on the prairie.
Reason number two?
I got seasick sitting on the floaty.
Life and love: just one reality check after another.
Go get yours, friends.