Just in Time

Today was the last day of school before Spring Break.

I hurried Ava out of bed and into her clothes only to realize on the way to school, that today was Pajama Day for Cystic Fibrosis. Bummer.  We could have saved some time and ugly words if I'd remembered.

And then when I got home and walked into the kitchen, like it had rays of sunshine shining down on it from heaven, I saw Ava's spelling list illuminated in its basket tucked behind the computer.  And I remembered what else had been forgotten: Spelling Test today.

Ava is a good speller, mostly because she is a good memorizer.  But not only had the day snuck up on us, she hadn't put in one single moment of study, therefore didn't have any opportunity to commit those words to her memory. Now my computer is telling me that snuck is not a word.  Maybe I need a spelling test.  Sneaked? Is that right?  I don't know.

 Immediately I could see the look that would come on her face when her teacher would pass out the test. And I wished I could press rewind on the whole morning and start over.

I blame lots of things for my unorganized state.  A sick child, a hospital stay, life, feeling sick for 3+ months.  Yeah, that'll do it.

And somewhere along the way, Max decided he no longer needed a nap.I tried to tell him that I need his nap, but he wouldn't listen.

Anyway, all of this isn't really to complain, but rather to rejoice, that Spring Break is upon us!  Usually I am dreading all the down time, where I feel pressure to come up with entertainment before the kids combust from unstructured proximity. But this go around, I am just looking forward to not having to be any where at any certain time dressed in any certain attire for any certain cause. We can spend some time together without any outside constraints.  Sure, I'll have lots time to dream about those former napping days of yore.  And combustion will still be a distinct possibility.  But at least I can be sure to have a few days when I don't have to walk around worrying about what I've forgotten.

Especially because there is one other thing that I'd nearly forgotten to remember. 

This time next week, I'll be in Paris.

It hardly seems real.  I put it out of my mind weeks ago, because honestly I had serious doubts about whether or not I'd actually go based on how I was feeling.  As much as I'd wished, I couldn't push pause on my symptoms while Ava was in the hospital and the stress of it all piled right on top of that trip so high that I couldn't really see it any more.

But the hospital is over.  Ava is better.  I am not better, but I am better than I was.  And as Dan so eloquently explained, "You can be sick in Europe or sick here.  But at least if you're sick there, you don't have to take care of the kids."

Sold!

What a lucky, lucky girl I am.   My mom and I will fly to Paris.  Then to Venice, where we will  meet up with my sister, Leah.  Then we will all go on to Florence and Rome.  And then we will come home.  I'm not sure when it will feel real.  On the plane over?  Walking around a new city?  When I'm sitting at home looking at the pictures of where I've been?

I'll figure it out later though, cause I just looked up to see Max has taken black marker to his face, left arm, and the white carpet.