Shit, it’s been a long week.
I recently completed a 48 hour school workathon, which is the only type of marathon you will ever find me participating in.
I can assure you, it was just as much of a bitch as the real thing.
Seriously, I think I’m applicable for the Guinness Book of World Records or something.
By the time I hit the last submit button, I was almost awash in tears of relief.
I am DONE DONE DONE with school for now. And I am ready for a vacation.
That’s why The View Through the Window is going to Florida!
Our vacations are usually on the shorter side. We take four day treks to a city within a few hours drive and get back home in just enough time to say mother eff, tomorrow’s Monday!
But this year we decided that a good vacation is a very important part of life. Everyone needs to exit the traffic circle of work, school, home, repeat once in a while.
And what can be a better destination than the happiest place on earth?
After that bitch school workathon, I needed to find a happy place.
I still have my concerns, though. The drive from Chicago to Florida is around 18 hours long. Add my kids to it and we might as well hire a donkey cart for our mode of transportation.
We’d probably get there just as fast.
Flying is completely out of the question. I swore I would never board an airplane with my boys again after my last plane ride, one of the many highlights of which was my very concerned son, a first time flier, asking things like why there were so many cops at the airport, was something wrong with the plane, would it crash and would we all die?
Loud and clear enough for everyone on board to hear. He apparently inherited my flying apprehensions.
This was me.
Everyone knows you don’t say crash when you’re on a plane, especially if you’re a Muslim. I couldn’t believe it, but most people just laughed when they heard him voice his concerns.
Me? I almost threw up all over my friendly fellow passenger from the stress, combined with plenty of air sickness.
I’d rather drive to and back from Florida ten times than go through that again. Any humiliation we experience will be confined to the privacy of our van.
I tried to persuade my husband to postpone the trip until our kids were older, but he was adamant that they were at just the right age to experience the magic that is Disney.
And because he’s paying for everything, I felt I should agree.
And when I did, he was all
So we are going. Suitcases have been packed, Florida relatives have been notified, and neighbors have been asked to keep an eye on our place for us until we return.
Wish us luck! I am sure one hour into the drive I will want to shoot myself, but I believe in living in the moment. And in miracles.
Last week was also my birthday. I am now
31 26 years old.
Here are some birthday dinner pictures.
My mom refused to eat the restaurant’s prized steaks because “they bleed when you slice into them”, so she ordered that enormous vegetable tagine instead.
Here comes the best part about birthdays.
It pays to be old.