It’s been seven years since I’ve been to Europe. By far the longest stretch since my birth. What’s happened to prevent me from hopping on a plane and spending weeks on end in the south of France, Edinburgh, Berlin, Amsterdam, Stockholm, Portugal and any number of other places I’m longing to go? Not time off, not money, not fear…two children. Specifically mine. I see pictures and hear stories about people traveling around the world with their children and I admire them. They clearly have patience, stamina and either complete selflessness or selfishness. Nothing stands in their way. I, on the other hand adhere to strict bedtimes, won’t leave my children with strangers, want to be on my own schedule and make decisions on a whim when I travel. My rules and desires combined make for disappoint all around. For me, the kids and you know the other parent…my husband. Don’t misinterpret my longing for complaining. I know full well that if I wanted to do it I could, but I would rather wait until my girls are older or frankly until I can go by myself. That’s my decision and I can live with it. In the meantime, I will dream about a day, just one day, when I can wake up in a sun-filled room over looking a cobblestone street, put on a lovely outfit, have a coffee then head out the door with my bag, a camera and my determination to spend the whole day eating, drinking and shopping my way through this magical place where ever it may be.
Thankful for: My two happy and healthy girls.
Wanting: See above
I’ve learned: I stand in my own way sometimes.