On Monday Mark and I will have been married for seven years. We're celebrating this seven year itch by running off to Mexico with a pair of dear friends and leaving our children behind. My main goal all weekend is to not worry about the kids. Or the dog. Or some random thing happening. Or the fact that we have yet to designate a guardian for our children in the event we should die and not be able to drive Lily around anymore.
It's the first time we are leaving our girls behind for a full weekend and I am so grateful to my mom and my friend Vikki for jumping in to offer care. I can think of few other people I would trust so completely with my children and I know that they will be fine. I do worry a bit about my boobs. Anya is down to nursing only once or twice a day and I'm hoping they won't freak out after all that time without the baby. I know she'll be fine about it. She's so blasé about them now, that if I'm not around she doesn't even seem to think about them. I suspect that we'll be weaning soon, in fact and while I am totally looking forward to the end of almost four years of nursing, there is a little part of me that will miss that connection. We don't plan for any more babies so it really will be the end of my nursing career.
BUT I DIDN'T COME HERE TO TALK ABOUT THAT!
We're going away.
Without the kids.
Or the dog.
And we're going to have fun and not worry about the kids, even if it kills us. In which case my mom will be the designated chauffeur. At least, that's what were going with for now.