Prior to Isabella's birth, the hubs and I traveled a lot. We usually planned one big vacation and then at least half a dozen weekend or three-day getaways a year.
The last time we went away was in May of 2006. We went to Skaneateles, NY, about 1.5 hours from home, and we spent two glorious pre-baby days walking around a lake, eating out, and sleeping late in a quaint village inn. At the time, we had no idea that it would be two years before we would again embark on anything resembling "a vacation." Of course, motherhood has been completely worth staying installed in my hometown like a quasi-cloistered nun for the past 24 months, but even nuns need to disrobe and go dancing (or maybe Dirty Dancing?) every once and awhile, right?
We're leaving this morning for our first night away from Isabella. We're going to Toronto to see Dirty Dancing and to stay overnight in a hotel that according to their website is neither filled with Sesame Street toys nor broken crayons of assorted hues. We will eat in a restaurant that I did not specifically choose based on my ability to cut and run with a screaming toddler with the least amount of disruption to other diners. And we will sleep in past 6am.
Would you like to know why we're able to do that?
Because as of today, I am DONE with my fertility med injections! Every single morning for almost three months, I have received some kind of fertility medication in the form of an injection. Every single morning for the past two months, my husband has had the pleasure of doing the injections into my (ever-expanding) arse at 6am before he leaves for work. My arse is battered, bruised, and has these mysterious hard deposits underneath the skin. I'm 10 weeks tomorrow, and instead of toting an arsenal of needles, syringes, and other drug paraphernalia over the Canadian border and possibly causing an international incident in the process, I plan on celebrating by treating my behind to an extra two or three hours of sleep.
Toronto isn't the Highlands of Scotland or Italy's Amalfi Coast, but it is an amazing city, and only three hours away from where my little girl will spend her 28 hours of parent-free living eating ice cream with her hands for breakfast and making her own stuffed animal by hot-gluing cat fur to construction paper. My mom is watching her. I am simultaneously grateful and terrified.
I expect to arrive home tomorrow refreshed and well-rested, and with a newfound appreciation for Elmo, Dorothy, and that creepy-beyond-words Mr. Noodle.
The last time we went away was in May of 2006. We went to Skaneateles, NY, about 1.5 hours from home, and we spent two glorious pre-baby days walking around a lake, eating out, and sleeping late in a quaint village inn. At the time, we had no idea that it would be two years before we would again embark on anything resembling "a vacation." Of course, motherhood has been completely worth staying installed in my hometown like a quasi-cloistered nun for the past 24 months, but even nuns need to disrobe and go dancing (or maybe Dirty Dancing?) every once and awhile, right?
We're leaving this morning for our first night away from Isabella. We're going to Toronto to see Dirty Dancing and to stay overnight in a hotel that according to their website is neither filled with Sesame Street toys nor broken crayons of assorted hues. We will eat in a restaurant that I did not specifically choose based on my ability to cut and run with a screaming toddler with the least amount of disruption to other diners. And we will sleep in past 6am.
Would you like to know why we're able to do that?
Because as of today, I am DONE with my fertility med injections! Every single morning for almost three months, I have received some kind of fertility medication in the form of an injection. Every single morning for the past two months, my husband has had the pleasure of doing the injections into my (ever-expanding) arse at 6am before he leaves for work. My arse is battered, bruised, and has these mysterious hard deposits underneath the skin. I'm 10 weeks tomorrow, and instead of toting an arsenal of needles, syringes, and other drug paraphernalia over the Canadian border and possibly causing an international incident in the process, I plan on celebrating by treating my behind to an extra two or three hours of sleep.
Toronto isn't the Highlands of Scotland or Italy's Amalfi Coast, but it is an amazing city, and only three hours away from where my little girl will spend her 28 hours of parent-free living eating ice cream with her hands for breakfast and making her own stuffed animal by hot-gluing cat fur to construction paper. My mom is watching her. I am simultaneously grateful and terrified.
I expect to arrive home tomorrow refreshed and well-rested, and with a newfound appreciation for Elmo, Dorothy, and that creepy-beyond-words Mr. Noodle.
I hope you have (had) a FABULOUS time, and I can't wait to hear all about it. Woo hoo for vacations!
Have a wonderful time Kristi! Enjoy it!
Have a marvelous trip! Can't wait to hear all about it. =)
Have a fabulous time! I am sooooo jealous. I bet your Mom and Isabella will have a ball. Sleep lots and lots for me. No more needles, woohoo!
oh YAY! I cannot wait to hear all about it. R and I have decided to start small as well, so we are doing one weekend at a B and B in Maine for our fifth anniversary. I think this is the best way to go for all involved. I hope it was WONDERFUL.
The musical sounds great! Hope you guys have a truly wonderful time. Mr. Noodle is kind of weird, now that you mention it.
That's wonderful! Glad you get a break, both from regular life and those shots. Hope you have a wonderful time ... and hope you did OK without the little one. It is hard!!
I am looking forward to hearing how the show was. I would have love to have met up with you and Rich during this pregnancy (remember last time?!) but I am also away.
Hope you guys had a great time!
You have great travel/vacation blog !!!
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Thank you!!!