We took our first trip out of town without the kids.
Our first trip in four and a half years – the whole time Henry has been alive.
And it was….
We went to Charlottesville for our sixth wedding anniversary and visited the same bed and breakfast where we stayed on our honeymoon. It’s such a beautiful place – tucked into the mountains, soaring views in every direction, a slate pool sparkling on the lawn like a giant diamond.
I was a little worried about visiting the same place twice – maybe it wouldn’t be as magical, six years later, without the buzz of being a newlywed. Maybe it wouldn’t be as much fun, maybe I wouldn’t feel the same way – about my husband and myself, six years later, into marriage and the kids, down the road.
But if anything – I felt even better this time. Last time, I was pulled on a wire-string, so stressed out after the wedding and all that planning that I could barely sit still. It took almost a full day and a good book (The Debutante Divorcee), to finally calm down.
But this time, I threw myself into it, like a pole vaulter from a great height.
Landing in a state of bliss that lasted 12 hours straight, until it was time to come home.
Blenheim Winery. (Also known as Dave Matthews’ winery.)
The tasting room at Kluge Winery.
I don’t care what Donald Trump says, Patricia Kluge has style.
What a beautiful spot. I wanted to curl up on this porch and stay here forever. Make it my own little house.
The view from Cedar Springs.
We were gone just over 24 hours. I missed the kids. Their warm little bodies pressed against mine.
But I also loved having a few quiet moments, alone, with my husband.
Now I’m back home, back in the grind.
We’ve had a string of rough days. Multiple trips to the emergency room, sleepless nights, bad news. Some of it, out of my control. Other parts, it seems, my own fault. Of my own making.
Part of me wishes I could just take a vacation from myself. Unzip my skin for a little while. Be somebody else.
But I’d really miss moments like these.