Actually, it's going to be more of whine. I apologize in advance.
It's a busy travel day for those I love. I'm happy for all of them. I'm sad for myself. Please, allow me to wallow in self-pity for a moment.
Amster is taking the boys to Disneyland for a long weekend, end-of-Spring-Break, treat. Two other families are joining the fun. I was invited, but large public spaces and I have had an on-again/off-again relationship since I was perforated. I ruefully refused the invitation and so, off they went, at noon today, in a mini-van caravan to The Most Wonderful Place on Earth.
Pictures have been promised, and I'll share their joy vicariously. Still, not having my favorite little boys around, missing my favorite spur of the moment lunch partner.... I'm a little bit sad.
Big Cuter will be in Vienna when you read this post. I've worried aloud already; his text that he's safely landed at Dulles in D.C., followed by the one telling me he was safely on the plane to Vienna reassured me while also remnding me to worry.
I want him to have a great time, to teach and learn and grow and smile; I just wish I could encase him in a protective bubble while he's doing that.
And then there are Dr. K, who is packing the car, and Not-Kathy, who finishing the last of her work emails, as I type to you. I'm on the couch of the apartment they've occupied for the past 6 weeks, bemoaning the fact that there won't be another lazy Wednesday afternoon like this for a very long time.
It's time for them to go home; I just don't want them to leave.
Everyone is focused on the future, and I am in the uncomfortable position of not wanting anything to change. I want the world to stop, to stand still, to just let me be for a minute. I like having the kids around, I like my son in relative safety, I like my friends living at the corner of I'm-there-every-day and It's-on-the-way.
There. I said it. I feel much better.
Thanks for listening.