Sunday, February 27

At Vacation's Bottom

That's it. It's over. Done. The downward slides momentum has ceased. I can't wait for vacation to start and dread it's end, but it's here and as sad as this makes me, my house should be ecstatic. The routined of non-vacationed days needs to be restored, in a really big way.

I know myself well enough, that putting up this post tonight, gives it the greatest chance of being it's best. Tonight, I'm still in the mind frame of the vacation zen. Tomorrow, I will crave that structure of the every day. I will be manic and I will scurry, with a mind set on "do", dismissing vacation as it now being done, loosing some of the finer reflective details between the ever changing loads of laundry, loud roar of a well rested vacuum, and energy displayed in it's rare, rabid form.

Though there were a few unexpected trips to the doctors office for medication to treat ear infections, conjunctivitis, and some suspicious looking tonsils, vacation was good, it was great.

We headed North to visit some cousin and the mini-road trip was worth it. The kids played, the Mumma's talked. I hate how there are only a handful of time through out the year we get together, but love the fact that it feels as comfortable as if we saw each other more, it's refreshing to say the least.

Then, last night…. oooh last night… the kids went to Mom & Dad's and Nate and I did something we rarely ever do. We went to the bar. We usually don't get any more adventurous than going out to dinner when we have no kids, but last night, with some friends, we went out out. I can't remember the last time I spent so much time putting on make-up, doing my hair, and picking out an outfit. We went out to supper, we laughed, we danced. We danced.

I love to dance.
The type of dancing that starts from your hips, working it's way simultaneously down your legs and up your core. I love all joint points moving, head swinging, arm flaring, feet jumping, song yelling minute of it. I love not caring I could easily be confused for a diseased giraffe with a bumble bee repeatedly stinging it's head. I love that the music's too loud and the floor too sticky. I love how there is a common thread sewn between every erupting body by the over emphasized bass and the unison of shouted lyrics. Mostly, I love how the picture quality of the night clearly (and not so clearly) reflects the mind state of the operators behind it.

(and I love that because we went out the same time I'm normally going to bed, my eyes at the beginning of the night look as though they should at the end)

Here is where I jump off my vacation sled, lay at the bottom a bit, and think about how fun it was, making that climb to the top of the next great ride, well worth it.

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