Getting Away

Way back when I used to be a world traveler.  When I had kids, I figured it was something I would need to give up, for a variety of reasons - some financial, but mostly practical.  It's just not so fun to jet set with a toddler.

Then, when Braden was 15 months old, a good friend in Australia proposed that we meet in London, where we both had mutual friends.  My gut reaction was to say of course not, but then I reconsidered.

Why not?

So I did it.  I flew out on a Wednesday night and was back on Sunday.  It was exhausting, it was fun, it was refreshing.  I felt like I found me again, if only for a few days.  The me who wasn't a wife, wasn't a mother, wasn't a lawyer.  The me who was just a fun loving, laid back, globetrotter up for anything.  And I really love that me.

The two that made the trip all worth it.  Love you guys. 

And I'm so glad I went, because I almost didn't.  A few days before the trip, I got really scared.  Me, the former world traveler - scared!  It had been so long since I'd done anything like that by myself, that I wondered if I could still do it.  Travel overseas?  Alone?  With luggage?  How ever would I do it?  It's crazy how a learned helplessness had crept up on me.

I felt strong when I came back.  I felt independent.  I promised myself I would make it an annual thing.  Not necessarily a London trip, but some kind of mini-trip just for me.  A chance to reconnect with myself.

It hasn't happened.

Then, this past week, I found myself yearning for a get away more than ever.  And I allowed myself to silence all of the excuses I normally give myself:  How will the kids survive without me?  How will they ever get over their grief of missing me?  Should I really spend money on something like this when I'm not working?  What if the plane crashes and my children are left orphaned?  What I just want to kiss their faces and I can't because they are thousands of miles away?  What if some volcano erupts on Iceland and I get stuck in Europe for a year or more?

And so on and so forth.

I said screw it.  I went online.  I brainstormed all the possibilities, and I had a few key criteria:

1) The destination had to be international.  I just get super excited about using my passport, that's all.
2) The destination had to have friends.  This narrowed down the search to London, Edinburgh, Melbourne, and Tel Aviv.
3) The destination had to be close enough to do in a long weekend.  Melbourne and Tel Aviv got the ax (sorry Simi and Kim).

So London or Edinburgh?  Drum roll please.... I chose....

Edinburgh!

For a variety of reasons.  It's green.  It's pretty.  It has a castle.  It has deep fried Mars bars.  My friends there have a real house, with a real guestroom, with a garden.  And my best friend from London will meet me there.

But the real reason is that it's been seven years since I've been there, and I just need it right now. It's a home that I need to return to.

T minus six weeks, and I'm Scotland bound.