Vacation, There and Back

We just made it to Mexico and back. Spring break. I have been absent from this blog for that reason (and others, like John), but not absent from creative happenings.

To be true to our days (but not so true to blogging), I am going to fill in spaces and backdate a few of our vacation creations. But first, a few thoughts:

Traveling with four young kids is not exactly a vacation. Still, there's a lot of joy in that high energy of say, cruising through security. The kids get a thrill from throwing off shoes, hefting up back packs, filing through the screen, grabbing stuff left and right. It feels not unlike the feeling of juggling.

The flights themselves (we had four legs in all) continued that juggling feeling, but were really quite smooth. With seats in two rows, we were throwing more backpacks around, books, markers, paper, food, drinks, movies, headphones. Only on the last flight did I feel like a seasick exhibitionist. Since we pre-board with our brood, I got to sit there for about 30 minutes, greeting boarding passengers with my shirt practically off trying to quiet my screaming baby, comfort my exhausted three year old whose blue pencil wouldn't work, compliment my other daughter's rainbow 100 times, wrestle with my oldest son across seats, and share a cup of coffee with my husband. The youngest two kids finally fell asleep literally on each other (picture to come) when we landed in Denver.

Anyway, that was just the travel part. Along with all the physical juggling, I juggled thoughts in my head as we transported from place to place. Our day began at 3:30 am (another story), and we arrive at our destination at around 5pm, and it's gorgeous. Too good to be true. But, all I can think is, "This is so beautiful, why can't I relax!?!?!?" Hmmmm.

Jeff made up a wonderful Knock Knock joke for the kids that is a huge hit. It goes like this:

Clara: Knock Knock

Will: Who's there?

Clara: Interrupting pig.

Will: Interrupting...

Clara (interrupting): Oink Oink

You can play the game forever, moving from animal to animal. Our first day in Mexico felt like the interrupting knock knock joke in my head:

Thought: Wow, this is heaven.

Interrupting Thought: I can't find ___.

Thought: Look at that view.

Interrupting Thought: I forgot to bring ___.

Thought: The kids look like a postcard swimming in an infinity pool.

Interrupting Thought: I wish John would let me put him down.

Thought: In our landlocked life, we dream about this ocean view.

Interrupting Thought: My eyes hurt. Why do I always run out of contacts before a trip?

Thought: How lucky are we that the kitchen is stocked!

Interrupting Thought: Why isn't there any Tequilla?

My head eventually eased and I relaxed and enjoyed the vacation. Tremendously. But then, I start the whole juggling process over again when I get back home. Our return travel day began at noon, and we arrived home at about 12:30am. "Ah. My children are safe in their beds. I get to climb into mine. Why can't I relax?" Hmmmm.

Thought: We made it. Everyone is safe.

Interrupting Thought: Is this really my home? Where I've lived for almost 10 years?

Thought: No more juggling markers or babies on a crowded plane.

Interrupting Thought: How do I live in this mess?

Thought: It's spring! I can't wait to garden!

Interrupting Thought: Did I really dig up half the yard before we left? Do we really have a huge hole in the middle of it all???? (See previous blog, the WRCL)

Thought: It's so nice to get back into our routine, our rhythm.

Interrupting Thought: What is our rhythm again? Do we have one?

I've now made it through a day back home, which included a late arrival to school, a trip to two grocery stores, and two rounds of various lessons. I'm settling back in. I do remember this place. And I do love it, too. Even if it's (we're) frayed at the edges, to say in the least.