I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane...

Today is the day! We're leaving to spend the night in Montreal before boarding our plane at 6:00 Friday morning to spend a kid-free week in the DR. I have that anxious/nervous/excited feeling in my stomach I get before a trip. Or is that the slice of cheeseburger pizza I had no self restraint against?? We're extremely fortunate that Nick's parents can take time off to care for our kids so that we can recharge. I plan on bringing them home some DR booze- I'm certain they'll need it after spending over a week straight with our posse of offspring.

We cleaned our house non-stop for the last 48 hours (Grampa Dan is staying here with Noëlle to keep her comfortable in her daily routine.) And to keep Saku from dying of a broken heart after we leave. He's 100% worse than the kids.

For the last seven days we've lived in the mountain fresh scented world of Laundry. Washing, drying, folding, and packing 10 days worth of outfits for 3 kids and 2 adults; laying out six days worth of coordinating school clothes, hair elastic, hair clips, bracelets, and shoes. Had to ensure that the school had an extra week's worth of diapers, bibs, juice, Sippy cups, and "back up outfits" for Noëlle- realized that we didn't have enough bibs to have one everyday for breakfast here at home, lunch at school, and supper at my in-laws without them having to worry about laundry. Bought more bibs. Realized that some (most) of Raegan's jammies are a smorgasbord of hand-me-downs from the older kids...and they are stained/ugly. Bought more jammies. Realized that I didn't have enough coordinating accessories for my outfits. Bought more jewelry, scarves, hats, sunglasses :D

Realized that Saku might have a heart attack after he concludes that we are, in fact, not just gone grocery shopping: baked him bacon oatmeal AND banana peanut butter dog treats as an "I'm-sorry-we-abandoned-you-but-I-promise-we're-coming-back" gift.

I'm tired. Let the holiday begin already! Xo

The State of Sunshine

In a few days Nick and I will be boarding a plane to spend a week in the Dominican Republic. Alone. Without the kids. Surrounded by other adults. Who don't need me to cut up their steak, wipe their bums, or chase away monsters from under their beds. We are going there to attend the wedding of a much loved girlfriend from university that I haven't seen in exactly ten years. Needless to say, I am over-the-moon-excited.

I haven't flown since my university days; I've never vacationed down south. We haven't gone anywhere alone in two long years. This trip is essential for me: my internal battery has been low for quite sometime. There have actually been many days where it has run on the wisps of fumes alone. Staying at home with the kids has proven to be rewarding beyond what I ever imagined; however, they also have a tendency to drive me crazy. Bat. Shit. Crazy. This week alone in paradise with Nick will cleanse and detox my soul of all the gunk that clings to it.

My original goal was to lose a significant amount of weight for this trip so I can fit into my cute, skinny clothes. Well, that plan had a design flaw: I like to eat and hate to exercise in the winter. Or in the summer. Or when there's daylight. New plan: buy lots of cute, fat clothes. Check!
I'm also part Albino. Not really, but you'd never know that by looking at me. All those women who spend an afternoon languishing in the sun and then for the next six months enjoy their bronze glow radiating off them and in their wake...yeah, I hate them. I have two skin colours: Translucent and Lobster Red. My plan: slather on tons of sunless tanning lotion and fake it 'til I make it. I'm pleased and impressed with the results- for the first time ever, I have a (completely artificial) golden tan. I wasn't always diligent in washing my hands after, so now it looks like I scrunch bags and bags of cheese Doritos for fun. I'm slightly embarrassed that people think I have a nine-pack-a-day smoking habit. New plan: distract their eyes from my orange hands. So I dyed my hair a new, darker color. I was tired while playing Hair Stylist, and wasn't paying attention...and didn't realize that the dye had dripped down my forehead. Now I have these deep, dark purplish slashes on my face from my hairline to my eyebrows.
New plan: email much loved girlfriend and request that her wedding photographer refrain from including her orange and black friend in ANY of her pictures.