Two More Sleeps…


…until we have to board a plane to Montreal and all this week I haven’t really slept.

It’s not about worrying about what to pack, it’s not any fear of flying, it’s not about who’s taking care of them, it’s not about leaving the kids –as yesterday I would have boarded the plane right there in the Mall’s parking lot, after the runaway episode.

It is really about flying WITH my Man. Whenever I have gone away or the Man has travelled, it’s usually as a solo parent. We always know that ONE of us is going to be there with the kids, say, if the plane goes down, or if you get knifed in the ghetto of Las Vegas.

I just keep worrying, even though I know everything should be fine, I just do.

And then I remember, ever since I got pregnant, I worried. I worried about what I should eat while pregnant. I worried about the health of my baby-to-be. I worried that I may get into a car accident while pregnant and lose the baby. I worried that the car following us when we brought him home was too close to us. I worried all those wonderful, worrying good thoughts.

Then I have to put it in perspective, and realize that I will always worry. No matter if they are four or fourty.

I WILL worry.

I just have to reside myself to realize that worrying is part of being a parent. Not only is going away great for us, it is fun for the kids to hang with Grandma & Aunty. I mean REALLY, it is going to be Date Night for almost a week and that I am FINALLY going to eat REAL poutine, not the Burger King version.

It also helps to know that you have a will and life insurance.

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