As of Friday evening, my holidays will officially begin. There is an airplane involved, although I won't be on it. Moms, if you're reading this blog, sit down. NOW.
My husband and daughter are flying out to Newfoundland on Friday morning and leaving me at home. By myself. For two weeks.
So let me reiterate. I am taking my holidays, albiet working from home some, and trying to create some semblance of order in preparation of my cousin and his wife's visit with their two kids in the beginning of August, but still not doing anything strenuous. I will go to bed when I want. I will wake up when I want. I will eat what I want.
I will be free to go out with friends without worrying who will watch the kiddo. Hell, I can dance nekkid all around my house and not worry! Good Goddess, I'm so excited! I have every intention to knit and sleep and eat for two weeks and maybe fit in a few great books. I'm thinking a nice February Lady Sweater?
Oh, don't get me wrong. I'll miss my family - at least, near the end I'm sure I'll miss my family. I'm sorry to not be heading to Twillingate with the beautiful scenery, great food, amazing icebergs, but I'm SO excited to just have some time for myself. I've never done anything on my own for more than a day since Elodie was born, and if it weren't for the animals (damn it), it'd be like living on my own again.
I already have plans to eat sushi, drink wine, sing karaoke, hang out with buddies. I CAN'T WAIT!
ps. If you could all offer up a little positive thought for me, that I handle the eight hours of waiting I'm going to have to endure while my baby flies thousands of feet up in the air to her destination on Friday? I'm sort of an anxious flier (okay, that's an understatement), and I seem to be suffering from some minor transferrence.