This post might ramble and wander a bit. We’ve been back home for a whole day now and I’ve realized I’m not ready for vacation to be over! Our trip lasted about as a long as a blink…or at least that’s what it feels like. We had such a wonderful time and have many pictures and stories to tell. I’m a busy little bee again trying to catch up on emails, picture editing, book editing…and a few other things. Sleep isn’t very high on that list unfortunately.
We traveled by car to Florida, which is about a half-day’s trip for us. So on the way back everyone was tired and subdued. This gave me fourteen hours to think. Thinking and I have an odd relationship. I do a lot of things without its aid. G.I. Joe loves/hates that. I tend to dive head first into projects, tasks, and friendships. My motto is “Jump in now…start paddling later.” (And yes, in this metaphor “paddling” is Thinking.) Plenty of times that works well for me. But it still has my family on pins and needles going “Oh my, what has she gotten into now.”
When I’m not busy ignoring my good friend “Thinkster” I over think.
Case in point…on Friday I rode Splash Mountain for the first time ever. G.I. Joe was giddy that I finally gave in and decided to take what I was sure would be a plummet to the pits of hell. I absolute hate the sensations of weightlessness or falling. I just knew that I would fly out of that dinky log. The whole ride itself is kind of long and has a few moderate drops before the climb to the big one. The entire time we were on it I just wanted to get the drop over and done with. I thought, thought, and thought some more about all the worst-case scenarios. I really should not have been thinking.
Before the ride was half over my hands were going numb. I had psyched myself out so much that I had my whole body clinched enough to affect my blood circulation! When the climb to the top started I knew I would pass out if I didn’t shut up the Thinkster and just breath. The sunlight started getting brighter and brighter. With one hand on the seat in front of me and the other gripping G.I. Joe, I fell. Fast and hard the ground rushed at me. Then, we splashed.
When I was delivering Lucy a similar thing happened. I was determined to go natural, to the point that I told myself “An epidural isn’t even available unless you need an emergency c-section. They won’t give you one even if you begged.” But I knew in my heart G.I. Joe wouldn’t make it in time. (I kind of thought the doctor would but that was one thing I was wrong about). During the last 2 hours of labor the contractions were so intense and never fully let up. I spent that time on all fours to combat the back labor. A week later my arms still hurt from bracing through the pain. I could barely lift that little 6 pounder that came home from the hospital with us.
In 3 weeks G.I. Joe leaves for his last 3 weeks with the Guard. He’ll be doing something he’s amazing at: making sure troops are ready and skilled for their deployment to Afghanistan. After that, he’s out. We know what we want him to do, and what would be our ideal. Before we left for this trip I finished writing the manuscript that’s been in my heart since 2006. Now that I have it written I have no excuse to not polish it up and send it out. Well, except the fear.
On the way home I was thinking way too much. When we passed the exit for the Post we pray we’ll be at my pulse started to quicken. I realized that coming back home means our lives are very different. “How much longer will home actually be home? Will G.I. Joe be able to go with us on our other Disney trip this year or will he be in the stage where I won’t have any contact with him for 6 weeks? Will he be in school? Will people think this new website a friend and I are launching is lame? What if it doesn’t take off? What if I never write another magazine article? Will agents like my book? Is it lame? What if people think there isn’t enough drama or suffering in it?”
These are just a few of the thoughts that tortured me on the way home. Ha. And I wonder why my skin is breaking out like a 14 year old at midterms. Can I just go back to being on vacation? Like maybe for the next year?