Emerald City

I just painted my nails a lovely shade of green; the name of the color is Emerald City. I’m hoping maybe I’ll have ruby slippers when I wake up to magically transport me to Fiji. I would do almost anything for some beach time right about now. With unlimited umbrella drinks in my hands and having my biggest worry be making sure to get down to the beach in time to reserve a cabana. I’d like to worry about getting sand in my shoes and whether or not I have enough sun block on. I’d like to lie on the beach and stare into space without worrying about what was being left undone. I’d like to simply forget about grocery shopping, laundry and making sure everyone around me is fed and clean. I’d like to be faced with endless buffet trays begging to be sampled one bite at a time.

Why am I obsessing about a vacation I won’t get to have anywhere in the remotely near future?

Because it is freaking cold here. Really, really cold. And because I’m not sleeping even though I’m exhausted because my brain won’t shut the hell up. And because even though I’m doing everything I can to keep my feet (and mind) firmly rooted on solid and real ground, watching my dad have bad days just destroys me. And because The Girl has attached herself to me in an effort to get away from the mounting tension and uncertainty, not to mention how much she misses her brother and dad. And because I have become a full service Sherpa in my role here.

And at the end of the day, all of the above is fine, totally understandable and utterly part of the process, but I am exhausted. And part of that exhaustion is being so irrevocably immersed in the present. I am so totally engaged with whatever is happening in any given moment that there is no time or availability to day dream or be anywhere else but right now. This is a blessing. I know that. And I am truly am grateful for it. But I would also be grateful for a little beach right now.

Dare to Dream of Beaches

I spent entirely too long this afternoon doing what my mom calls dream building. I call it torturing myself by wishing for flights of fantasy that I don’t get to have. As usual, this revolved around travel. I’ve been hearing how even though people can’t really afford it right now, it’s the best time to travel because prices are so cheap. Resorts are slashing prices in the hopes that people will come whether they can afford it or not. So as I was thinking back 8 years to our lovely honeymoon on the beach of the Riviera Maya, I thought why not see if the travel agency that we booked the trip through has a website. And it does. Of course.

So I spent the afternoon looking through all of their destinations, looking at hotels and all inclusive travel packages. I found one perfect for a family trip in St. Croix. The hotel has an entire pool devoted to kids including its own water park. It has a kid’s center where you can sign up your offspring for daily activities so that you and your significant other can enjoy some kid free time snorkeling or exploring or just laying on the beach while people bring you the tasty beverage of your choice. It sounded like heaven. I even found one deal where my husband and I could steal away for a long weekend next week for much less than $1000 total, all inclusive. It was so tempting I had to make myself get up and walk away from the computer.

I could just really use a good surprise right about now. Something out of the blue, planned just because it would make me happy. Or totally unplanned and just serendipity because the universe finally has decided to take some pity on me and give me a vacation instead of a weekend spent on the couch with strep. Yes the strep weekend was sans children, thanks to my husband, but you know what I mean.

I could use a sojourn into footloose and fancy free for a few days. Renew my hope in daily life. Rejuvenate my world view. And partake in some damn tasty beverages.

Star Light, Star Bright

I was standing out on the deck last night with the kiddos and we all looked up in the sky to see the first star of the evening. On reflex I said:

“Starlight, star bright first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might have the first wish I wish tonight…”

They both giggled a bit and I told them to make a wish, without saying it out loud, which they actually did. I made my wish. And we went inside. I’m sure they didn’t think anything else about it.

But I was suddenly awash with memories. I’ve been wishing on the first star of the night for as long as I can remember. I can vividly recall standing in the middle of the pasture where I boarded my first horse, Magnum, him butting against my arm looking for last minute treats and my head tilted upwards, eyes closed, deeply immersed in concocting my wish for that evening. It was a nightly routine. I almost always wished for the same thing, which I will not tell you for fear that it will not come true, and Magnum always got the last treat in my pocket.

I got attached to the tradition of it. Me making my nightly wish, wherever I happened to be. I always tried to go outside right at or just after dusk so that I could make sure to catch the first star. Occasionally I’d make it out there when there were already two. And I cheated. I still made my wish, but only on the first star I saw. I figured it would still count in some way or another. Maybe that’s why the same wish hasn’t yet completely come true. See kids? That’s what cheating will get you.

I think I grew to love this nightly event so much because it was a bit of magic thrown into my everyday life. And there was a romance to it. Standing outside night after night, a level of concentrated peace in my mind as I leveled all of my personal power upon convincing the universe that mine was the one wish, out of millions, that should be granted.