These are my favorites.
These are two of my favorites giving my other favorite goodbye kisses.
Yes, I said goodbye kisses.
Biggest favorite bid littlest favorites and I farewell for nine days as he travels to Africa to try to get our visas so we can hopefully return to our home country soon! He’ll have a bunch of meetings while he’s at it and get caught up with many co-workers. And I'm left behind with two kiddos in not one of the three (count them, three) places I can call home, but in a fourth place. Oh my.
But it’s a good thing.Except I miss him already.
And he just left two minutes ago.
Just kidding. He left 27 hours and 53 minutes ago.
Aaaaaanyway... after he left, we relocated to another host-home in Amman. We made some (more) fast-friends and they have kiddos like ours, so they graciously allowed us to move in so that their family can keep my family company and then I may not go stark raving mad without Mikey to help me with the chillins.
What a blessing.
Anyway, before this post gets much longer I’d like to state that life is not fair.
As if you didn’t already know this.
Wanna know why I am stating this particular fact on this particular evening?
Cause all Mikey packed for nine days was this:
One small backpack. One small bag.
Just look at him on his way out…
So unencumbered by stuff and kids and more stuff and wifey and more stuff.
And no stroller.
I don't understand.
I mean, he just put on his backpack, slung the satchel over his shoulder and walked out the door. But not before I cried and begged him not to go. And not before Sweet N asked him 493 times "Go?" "Go?" "Go?" while looking around the place for her shoes, poor thing.
Once he managed to get free from my death grip he just strolled on down the hill. He strolled. Not the pushing-a-child-in-contraption-with-wheels type of stroll. Duh. But the leisurely/meander/saunter type of stroll. Then he just turned the corner to begin his journey, all light and free. Headed on a solo African adventure.
God bless ‘im.
Meanwhile, I gathered just a few things to take to our ‘new place’ for nine days. I don’t think could use any of the words ‘light’ 'or ‘free’ to describe the packing job I did.
Oh, whatever. I’m over trying to pack light. Over it. Totally and completely.
K, wait. If I'm honest, I do dream of boarding a plane with nothing but a slim handbag over my shoulder and a Starbucks coffee in my hand. But I am also a realist and I know that won’t happen this side of heaven. It’s just not me folks. It did happen once (minus the coffee), but I was tricked into it. And then I got engaged. But that story is for another time.
What I was saying is that I've accepted my fate as an over-packer, that's all.
And on a closing note, I'd like to say that I'm super stinking happy for my husband, who gets nine days to be light and free. It must feel so good. :)