Well, we’re off. Tomorrow is the beginning of our “Wait – who are you again?” vacation in New York.
I’ve written the tome that contains the minute-by-minute instructions for the grandparents, the one that prompted Matt to tease, “Don’t forget to tell them to brush the top and bottom teeth…”
I’ve packed Jennifer Graf Groneberg’s “Road Map to Holland” (which I am partway through and only put down when someone yanks it from my hands) and Miranda July’s “No one belongs here more than you” (go look at that website if you haven’t already). Maybe in the morning I’ll throw some clothes into the bag as well, we’ll see.
I’d like to write one of those “you probably won’t hear from me for a few days…” posts, but I’ve learned that this would be utter nonsense, coming from me. As long as I’ve got my iPhone in my pocket, you’ll be hearing from me while I’m in NYC. Probably a whole lot more than is strictly necessary. (Particularly as Matt is scheming about such things as finding Adam Gopnik’s home and building a shrine to him in the front yard. I can live-blog that for you, at the very least.)
I’ll be sad to say good-bye to the little munchkins tomorrow. Although I’ve been away from them myself for as much as a week here and there, we’ve never both left them for more than a night or two. It’s different. Baxter declared tonight, “Even though we’ll be having a great time with Oma and Pops, I’m still going to miss you a lot, Mommy.” We’ve got all of our little hearts out and ready to fill up with “squeezy, squeezy” hugs and kisses and lots of love, and I’ll keep mine by the side of my bed. And when I’m missing them the most, I’ll stop by here and take a look at these adorable faces.
(And then go out for more coffee and the New York Times.)