One Week Until...

A week from now I will be on airplane flying to Paris trying not to lose my shit.  The Chef will be holding my hand and I will be in tears for the first hour of my flight.  It won't be pretty.  It never is.

I have been scared of flying for as long as I can remember.  I have silly rituals that I must do on every flight or else (as in or else I might die in fiery metal ball).  I drink tomato juice the entire flight.  I rarely drink alcohol. All that does is push my emotional threshold past the boundaries and there ain't no coming back from that.  I make sure to have some kind of communication with the pilot, you know just to make sure their not all hopped on Adderall and Scotch.  I ALWAYS sit by the window.  No matter what.  Apparently I have rationalized that if we are going down I would like to watch.  Odd but I suppose I have always kept my eyes open for even the worst of things.  I am not very good at blindsiding myself.  

 But I am trying not to focus on the fact that I am going to be wreck for eight hours straight come Monday.  I am also trying to arrange  for some drugs.  Hopefully my doc will keep good on her promise to get me nice and 'relaxed' aka sedated for my travels.  Fingers crossed.  Instead of dwelling on my fears I have decided to focus on the positive.

I have seven days to spend with my amazingly awesome mini people and I am going to do it right.  Our week is going to be full of pumpkins, harvest festivals, museums, and food.  I am going to let Catcher Crazy Face sleep with me when the Chef works late and I am going to let Biggie Smalls drink all the goat's milk her little heart desires.  I am going to eat them up and try not to cry.  Which is not really working at this moment.  But I can do it.  I can leave my kids for a week.  I am a big girl and I should still allow myself to have time for myself.  But that just seems so selfish and impossible.  Ahhhhhhh!!!!!  I am making myself crazy.  But seriously I wish wish wish wish that we could take the kids on this trip.  But the truth is we can't.  And I need time with the chef and I need time for myself and I have never been to Paris.....so.....maybe I should just shut the fuck up, buy more boots, and start packing.

Right?