Well, not really. I’ve actually been on quite the roll since I last wrote. It just seems like ever since I heard from my High School/Now-living-in-Russia friend and he said, “where do you find the time to write so much?” I haven’t had time to write. Classic.
Either way, it’s good to be back. (And I am currently resisting an overwhelming urge to jump straight into quoting from AC/DC here…☺)
Last I wrote, I was a couple of days away from the ultimate get-away. SANTA FE. I spent that Friday and Saturday getting things organized, writing up a three-page instruction brochure on caring for the littles (as if my mother never did this before), and doing laundry. (I can assure you that my list was also pages long. Yes, I am THAT person.) I lined up rides to and from school for Miss 6 each day we were away, got a homemade-ish gift together for mom’s arrival, did some grocery shopping, hosted a Friday afternoon playdate that turned into a parent playdate lasting until late evening. Fun times.
After all of the intense preparation, we were late getting to the airport. (Did I mention that Saturdays tend to go to sh** for me?) Poor little mom was standing out on the curb when we got there, looking rather forlorn. To our credit, her flight was over 20 minutes early. Unheard of.
And with that, the whirlwind officially began. We had one day and two nights to get her up to speed. Get her used to the girlies and their routines. Even though it sounds like I am the anal person from hell, my intention was to make sure she would be as comfortable as possible. I mean, what a HUGE thing for her to do for us. (She barely makes left hand turns in her hometown and she’s lived there since she was TWO.) Regardless, I knew she could handle it, but it was still a big deal for all of us.
We made Sunday HER day. We did a marathon canvas of her favorite Boulder places in preparation for her being stranded in SoBo for the week. (Including Whole Foods, of course.) Had to get that out of her system. We walked the city and took the bus home. Another fun day.
Then, after a late night packing scramble, it was Monday. Time to go. Miss 6 dropped safely at school, quick Ruby walk, picnic lunch packed and we were on the road. SANTA FE OR BUST.
It was almost unsettling to be in the car with no backseat chatter. So I had to adlib during the drive: “Daddy? I need to go potty.” “How much longer?” “I am so bored.” “I’m STARVING.” “Can you drive faster?” Hubby just kept shooting me the look. But for the first time in years, I got to listen to my entire favs playlist on the iPod. Quite heavenly. And we did talk some too. ☺
The drive was pretty uneventful. The typical stop-at-Wendy’s-to-pee-and-while-we’re-here-might-as-well-grab-some-fries. (Even with WF chicken salad in the car.) We took the back way through Taos. It was more scenic, but we had a spa appointment we were trying to get to, so we couldn’t just enjoy. I did see a huge ribcage of something near the road in the canyon. It doesn’t get much more scenic than that.
When we got to Taos, I was craning my neck to see if I could spot Julia Roberts and the twins. (No luck.) Instead, when we stopped for gas, I noticed the Crackberry trying desperately to get my attention. Against my better judgment (and with hubby giving me the eye), I took a quick peek. It was an e-mail from Boulder Valley School District on addressing the tragedy at VA Tech with your kids. Huh? (Cue record scratch sound effect.) Eight years ago we were in Mexico during this same week. Sailing and snorkeling, having lunch on the beach. In the middle of the reverie, another couple on the boat asks, “Aren’t you guys from Colorado?” Columbine. Nothing like a psycho or two to put a tear in your vacation fabric. Now it’s happened twice. What is it with this week in April?
After we got out of the canyon, the message light was going again. This time it was a voice mail. The spa was calling to see if we were going to make it to our 5 p.m. appointments. Huh? (Another record scratch.) Our appointments were supposedly at 6. And it was 5:30. Damn it all to hell. Vacation day number one.
In the interest of not making this entry novel-length, I will provide only highlights of the subsequent vaca:
1) Our new favorite restaurant in Santa Fe: Café Pasqual’s.
2) People drive like maniacs. (I almost got hit by a red light runner, we heard a woman screaming “move your ass!” to the car ahead of her, and we were asked for directions by a woman drinking tequila in her rental SUV. Tequila lady was also extremely relieved that we spoke English because the people before us that she stopped were, “Australian!”)
3) Second favorite restaurant: The Shed.
4) Adobe Mud Wraps are over-rated, 80-minute massages are NOT.
5) It’s impossible to escape the news AND family drama — no matter where you are or how much planning you put into it. (Story to come later.)
6) Getting away with the hubby, even after 14 years of marriage (almost), is ALWAYS the best.
7) Having an AMAZING mother who re-organizes the house, cleans out the garage, rakes the yard, empties the litterbox, and does laundry — all while caring for two girlies — is Mastercard commercial PRICELESS.
So, in spite of the aforementioned (and highly unnecessary) family drama and the even more unnecessary and senseless VA tragedy, it all went off without a hitch. (Special thanks to the b-partner for holding down the fort. ☺)
Now, mom is back in the southland — sadly. (Miss 6 cried buckets at the airport.) Hubby is back at work. Miss 6 spent yesterday mastering the bike and has it DOWN: stopping, starting, turning, etc. Yay! Beanie spent last night cutting more teeth and flipping onto her stomach and getting stuck — again and again. And I woke up today with a knee I can’t bend. Egads. (Or, correction – CAN bend, but WON’T due to bone-crunching pain.) Welcome to the jungle.
TODAY’S THEME SONG: Home. Marc Broussard. Nice to get away from, but always nice to be back. With or without the knee pain. ☺
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