A blast from the past

I met an ex for dinner tonight. Unlike some, our relationship did not end with my heart being broken. Ours ended simply because I realized we were in different places in our lives and did not have anything in common. Though I will always wish the best for him, I believe a good relationship requires a common grounding point.

Anyway, I had dinner with him tonight. It was a spur of the moment thing to do. I am on travel for work and realized that the rock formations outside of my hotel room were the ones next to the restaurant he and I ate at oh so many years ago. I sent him a message saying I was thinking of him and that I hope life was treating him well. Next thing I know he is telling me that he lives close to those rocks and BAM! We're making plans to meet for dinner.

It was good to see him. I told him sincerely that the random times we connect (usually over the phone MAYBE once every 5 years) it makes my day and I end up walking on air for a while.

That being said, every time it also reminds me of how different my life would have been if we had stayed together. OH. MY. GOD. It's simply hard to imagine what it would have been like. So, yes it was nice to see him, but it also reminded me of how amazing my life is with Michael.

This man from my past will always hold a special place in my heart, and Michael is OK with that. I hope that this man, who just turned 50, is able to truly find himself and live a happy life, as I think he has struggled to find meaning in the past. Hearing from him will always put a smile on my face.

But what keeps the smile on my face is knowing that my husband is the one I'm growing old with.

Favorites

Either life is getting less frustrating or I am getting better at dealing with the frustrations, but I certainly don't feel like I need this blog as much as I once did. Can you tell?

Having said that, here is one for you...

I have a guilty confession to make.  I know that parents should not have favorites when it comes to their children but I have to admit that right now that's a challenge for me.

Oh I don't REALLY have a favorite but I do have one who is far more challenging than the other. Maybe it's the age? Part of me hopes that's the case because then it will get better as she moves onto the next stage of childhood. But part of me hopes it's not just the age because then I will have to repeat my frustrations in a couple years from now.

I have occasionally referred to her as my 6 year old teenager and I cringe every time I catch myself doing so. I am a strong believer in children becoming what you say they will become.  Believe me on this: she does not lack kind and encouraging words from those around her, including from me.

But I almost think that's part of the problem. It might be possible to be TOO kind and encouraging.  I wonder sometimes if she feels entitled. She acts as though people will love her no matter what she does.  Think about that for just a moment and I am sure it is easy for you to see both sides of that coin. Is it a good thing that she knows she is unconditionally loved?  Yes, without a doubt.   Is it a bad thing? Yes, I believe so.

Finding that balance between giving a child natural consequences and putting them down is a difficult balance to find. Likewise, giving a child self confidence and self esteem without risking them becoming arrogant, snotty or simply entitled, well that is definitely easier said than done.

We have our good days and our bad days, as I am sure any family does, but when moments like this arise I find myself ever so grateful that she's not an only child.  Not just for my sake but also hers.

Due Credit

"I was disappointed when you posted those videos of the girls singing without giving me any credit for being the reason they know the words in the first place."

Are you kidding me? The purpose of my blog is to simply write about the things that make me smile, as little reminders of why I enjoy being a parent. It gives me something to look back on if and when things become frustrating and stressful.

It is NOT to document every moment of my girls' lives or who gets credit for every bit of knowledge they pick up along the way.

Grrr...

"It's just that I know you print your blog out at the end of the year and at some point, those books are going to go to the girls and they will read about their childhood. I want them to know that Gramma had a big presence in their lives and I don't feel that our relationship is represented in your posts."

Seriously? I am depending on their own memories for that sort of thing. My grandparents were a big part of my life and I knew that without relying on a printed book of memories. If you want to document your relationship with the girls, feel free to do so.

I am trying to make the most of what little time I have. Honestly I cram more into my day than I feel like most people do, and I am constantly wishing for more time. I haven't been focused on my blog like I have in years past, mostly because I am focusing MORE on my other goals. Now when I do blog, and yes it's still important to me that I do, it has to be quick. I don't have time to give references to the material I write about.

Maybe after I'm done focusing on getting a promotion at my "real" job, or making the most of my second business, or making the most of our third business, and getting the kids to bed on time... maybe when I'm done with all that, I will go back and fill in the blanks present in my blog posts.

Then again, maybe I wont. I plan to have other goals to accomplish by then.

Identity

I just have to say, I think it's a little sad that even as I'm trying to teach my girls to do good deeds, I also felt that it was necessary to tell Ellie NOT to write her name on her letters.

Mommy: Use "Ellie" instead.
Ellie: Why?
Mommy: Uh...
Ellie: I want to write my real name so that people know it's me.
Mommy: Oh I know! How about you use your middle name instead?
Ellie: Yeah! That's a good idea!

I suppose all great super heroes need to keep their true identity a secret.

On Rights

I have to admit I can't stand the attitude "Guns don't kill people. People kill people." And with last week's tragedy, there are lots of people posting things like this on Facebook. Unfortunately Facebook doesn't have a "dislike" button. Sure it takes a crazy monster to do what was done last week but put that same crazy monster in a theater with a few knives instead of guns and he would have hurt significantly fewer people. I understand there is a place for guns. People need them to hunt. People need them to protect their homes (not sure I buy into that theory, but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt). But people do not need the types of guns that this guy was able to get his hands on. Pure and simple.

But... Guns do not kill people. People kill people.

I think I'm sick.

Sleeping with Gramma

Grrr... The frustration I had after the 2nd night of Addie giving us troubles during bed time and wanting to sleep with us when she has never been one to give us trouble like this before she spent two nights sleeping in Gramma's bed (instead of her own), was ALMOST erased when we found that the cute little sprite had snuck into our room and fallen asleep on our bed while we were watching TV. Melt my heart.

My huband...

My husband is always the "better man." He's the one who always "makes it go right" for whatever reason-du-jour that the situation may have. He does this for me, I'm sure. But you know what? Sometimes I think he shouldn't have to. He said it best: "Sometimes I wish I could be right, rather than always having to justify my opinion, or retract it, or apologize." Sigh. I hope he knows I agree.

When in doubt... cry.

We know a girl, who for better or worse, we spend a lot of time with. She is exactly one week older than Ellie and her brother is 9 months older than Addie. On the surface it looks like a great set up. These kids will grow up together and could possibly be very close for it. In theory I want this. I want my kids to have this type of relationship because they certainly are not going to have any real cousins.

... but in reality? It kind of bites.

These kids are far more wild and misbehaved than our own. We often struggle with our girls just a little more after we've ever spent time with the kids. It seems that our girls try to see if they can get away with just as much. I see this only getting worse as they get older.

But it's more than that. It's more than the influence that they have over my girls that makes me question the "better or worse" part of my first sentence.

Michael has always been very good with children. It's one of the things that made me fall in love with him. Whenever we're at birthday parties, Michael (along with Brynn's father) is the one who has swarms of kids attacking him from every angle, trying to get their turn for his attention. They love him and rightfully so. He's fun. Everyone likes him. The other parents are thankful for him.

But this girl... This girl has learned one thing in life. When in doubt... cry. She has learned that if she cries long enough she doesn't have to apologize. She has learned that if she cries long enough she doesn't have to say please or thank you. In fact, she has learned that if she cries long enough she doesn't have to use any words at all. Whether she doesn't have to say she's sorry because obviously she feels bad, or she doesn't have to say "please" because she's obviously scared... well either is BS. No, she doesn't have to use her words because she has learned that if she whines enough than all the adults around her feel sorry for her and back off.

What happened this time? Michael was rough housing with her and her brother, but like every time before, if something ever goes differently than she wants it to, she breaks down. Michael grabbed her brother's hands and tickled him. The girl laughed. Michael grabbed her hands and said "Ah ha! Now I've got you both!" She started to cry.

It's not the first time that something like this has happened with her. It just seems to happen every time either of us play with her in any manner that is joking or somewhat typical "rough housing."

The result?

We've concluded that Michael is banned from playing with the kids. Ridiculous? Probably, but I see it as the only way to avoid future conflicts. And it's so unfortunate too because the kids will want to play with him. They always do.

This weekend is Ellie's birthday party and Michael (along with Brynn's dad) is bound to play with the kids, as he should. There will be squeals of delight and lots of laughter and splashes. But he will not include these two children. Why? Because if he does, he's bound to get into trouble.

And if he doesn't, they're bound to feel left out. Suck.

Proud Mommy

Last weekend we had dinner with a bunch of people. Details of who are not important. At dinner there was two large tables of adults and one small table of kids. My girl, Ellie (Addie was home sick) and 4 others resulted in ages ranging from 3-10 years old.

The kids were crazy. Many of the boys kept getting up and throwing stuff at each other and laughing and giggling. The other girl was no better and thought it was great fun to stick her feet into their faces. Basically, they were doing anything other than eating.

Poor Ellie, I could see that she was trying to have a polite meal. She sat there and just looked appalled at the behavoir the other kids were having. To make matters worse, it's not like she even liked the food. She was just trying to NOT eat her food in the most respectful manner possible.

Eventually Ellie spoke up. She had had enough. "Can you please stop that? It's not very polite." I had a Proud Mommy moment and the kids settled down.

For 2 or 3 minutes.

When the ruckus started up again, Ellie sent me a woeful look of defeat and I asked her if she would like to join the grown-up table. The look of relief on her face said it all.

Ellie: They're not being very polite, why isn't anyone saying anything?
Mommy: I don't know. They're not my kids, but I'm so happy that you're being polite and I'm VERY proud of you for trying to tell the other kids that they weren't.

Later that night we told Daddy about what happened.

Ellie: Did that suprise you Daddy?
Daddy: No, it did not surprise me at all that you were so nice and polite, but I AM very proud of you.

Ellie went to bed that night shining brighter for it.

Best Friends and Heartache

Today I got a friend request on Facebook from Debby P. The one and only. She was my most bestest best friend in junior high school. We used to hang out as much as possible and would talk on the phone every day for hours on end. Then one day, out of the blue, her mom told her she couldn't be friends with me anymore. To this day I do not know why. Debby just said that her mom said I was a bad influence. Me. A bad influence?

My heartbreak over the loss of Debby's friendship is one of my more vivid childhood memories, along with the heartbreaks from my other best friends.

Before Debby, there was Becky. Becky was my best friend in first grade. I remember her well. She had red hair and freckles and was poor. She didn't have many friends and the other kids made fun of her for wearing dirty clothes. I suppose we hit it off well from the start because the kids made fun of me for the way I talked. Becky broke my heart when she showed Darren (my first real crush - a blond hair, blue eyed cutie) my journal with a poem I had written for him. I was horrified that she would betray me like that.

After Debby, there was Jennifer. Jennifer and I were inseparable in high school. I would let her borrow my car and she would let me borrow her earrings. She had troubles with her mom (as most teenagers do) and I provided moral support. She was beautiful, tall and witty, which is probably why ever one of the 4 guys I had a crush on in high school ended up asking HER out. We spoke French to each other and had many sleepovers. Jennifer broke my heart when she told me I wasn't a real friend after having turned in a homework assignment without her name on it (we had been assigned to work together, but she never helped).

Aww... I find it interesting how strong those memories are. It was almost as though my "break ups" defined me more than the friendships that just fazed in and out of my life. I am blessed to have a couple friends from high school be still in my life and I can't imagine them ever "leaving" me, but when I look at the actual memories I have... there are more with the friends who broke my heart than with those who did not.

Anyway, Debby P sent me a friend request. She even politely reminded me who she was, not that I needed reminding. "Remember me? We used to talk on the phone every day until my mom told me I couldn't be your friend?" It was a polite enough reminder, but it stung. Yes of course I remember. I wanted to write back and say "Does your mom know I got a BS and an MS in Electrical Engineering? Does she know how I have had a successful career AND am a successful mother? Does she know about all the places I've traveled to? Does she know about all the money I've donated to save the world? ON MY BIRTHDAY? Does she know about the joy I'm bringing into the world from my little gnomes? What does SHE think of the "bad" influence NOW???" But that would be petty. That would be silly. Of course, all the answers to those questions aren't even "No, she doesn't know," but they're probably "Remind me again, who is Jennifer???"

Ellie has had her heart broken by her first best friend, Brynn, though they've made up since and are still very close. They're not quite as close as they once were, and if you asked Ellie who her best friend is, she would say she doesn't have one right now... but is she out for the same "lessons" in her friendship as me? Or maybe I'm not as unique as I think I am. Perhaps EVERYONE remembers the heartbreaks their once-best-friends gave them? I wonder if it affects everyone else like it does me. I wonder if it will affect Ellie and Addie like it did me.

I wonder if Ellie will one day come home crying because her favorite friend is no longer allowed to talk to her. I wonder if Addie will come home heart broken over her friend choosing a boy over her friendship. Chances are they will.

I wonder how I will respond.

$15,000

What can $15,000 get you?

Before I answer that question, let's take a step back in time for a moment.

Imagine if you will, a baby girl who has cerebral palsy from a young age of 1.5 years old. She lives with her grandma until she passes away. She then goes into foster care, but when she turns 21 she is forced into a nursing home. For old people. At 21 years old. Though she's in a wheelchair with a speech impediment, she fights to get out. Does so. Goes to college. Meets a man. Falls in love. Gets married. Has two children. She actively fights for the rights of those who are disabled, and is VERY involved in her children's lives and education. She is a strong strong woman who has overcome so much without giving it a second thought.

Now, imagine if you will, that same mother. Her clever son has asthma and sensory issues. Her bright daughter was recently diagnosed with a severe epilepsy disorder that leaves her in seizures 60-70 times daily unless she's medicated. This mother is watching her daughter slowly disappear, and yet realizes that her son still needs her too.

Let's continue, shall we? The same woman who was able to fall in love and marry was also able to fall out of love and divorce. Now she's a single mother whose ex sees the children once or twice a month. In a public setting. Enough said.

What does all of this have to do with $15,000?

That's how much this amazing woman lives off in a year. How? I have no idea. I'm still trying to figure that one out. It certainly puts things in perspective, though. Don't you think?

Small Miracles

On my other blog I recently wrote about a little girl named Destiny. Her mommy recently posted on FB a photo of a letter that Destiny wrote to her grandparents, most likely her LAST letter she'll ever write. Her mommy is slowly watching her little girl go down hill and lose control of her life moment by moment. Poor Destiny has so many seizures that it's starting to take a toll on not only her personality, but her ability to learn new things or even maintain the abilities she already has. Her letter was rich with love but it was also rich with little reminders that she's slowly losing control of her fine movement. I looked at it and saw the agonizing frustration her mommy must feel in slowly seeing your daughter go away, not knowing what the future has in store for her, and not being able to do a thing about it.

My heart hurts today as I think about all the miracles my girls have the potential to achieve in their life time and thinking about what that would be like to see such potential for greatness slowly be torn away from me. I simply can not imagine. My soul must be refusing to believe that such horrid things exist.

Ah, Christmas

I'm thinking it's about time for us to decide once and for all what family traditions our little family wants to have. Forget dedicating the entire month of December to each set of grandparents and their own "Christmas." Forget trying to revolve around a sister who has decided she no longer celebrates the holiday that once meant so much to her because her boyfriend's religion. Forget trying to fit it all into one big all-encompassing package.

Take charge, Riffen! Get a back bone! It's now about you and your family. It's now time to define what it is that will mean a lot to YOU and YOUR girls. You can do it. Go, Reffin, Go!

Lunch Plans

Last week...

Me: It's been a long time since I've seen you. Let's do lunch!

Sister: I can't this week. I'm too busy. I sent out resumes and have a couple interviews scheduled for next week.

Me: Oh, that's great. I have a couple big presentations I'm giving Monday morning and I'm sure I'll need to go out to lunch for my mental sake afterwards. How does Monday work?

Sister: Great! I have my interview that morning and we can get together to unwind afterwards.

Me: Yay! Yay!

Today...

Me: I tried to call you a bunch of times for lunch but you never answered.

Sister: I know.

Me: How did your interview go?

Sister: Oh!!! Really well. Thanks!

After a few more minutes of chatting, still no inquiry about how my presentations went and no explanation for why she bailed on me.

Yep, once again I feel like I'm below the bottom of the totom pole. Not exactly the "unwind" lunch I had anticipated or needed. Sigh.

Unbalanced Scale

At one time she gave you $1,000+ every month to help you through your unbalanced marriage. Now the scales have tipped and you're able to help her for a change. At a rate of $100 every month.

What's a couple 0's amongst family?

Excuses excuses

Isn't it funny how what may seem to be a random comment can stick with you forever?

I once dated (if you can call it that... 8th grade) a guy who was not very smart. That's putting it nicely. His brother wasn't very smart either. Rumor had it they shared a brain. But their father really liked me. I recall talking to him one day about how his sons both struggled with school. He told me about how their mother left them at a young age and that they really struggled with it, affecting all aspects of their lives - including school.

He said, "That's the reason, not an excuse."

That's the reason. Not an excuse.

That's deep. And now, 20 years later it's that statement that seems to be sticking with me lately.

I want to be understanding about healing and what hurdles one might have to overcome to do so. I want to be supportive. Perhaps it's just my lack of ability to truly understand, but I can't help but keep coming back to it.

That's the reason. Not an excuse.

Yes, that's the reason your life is this way. It's not an excuse.

Quick Vent

It really urks me to get marital advice from someone who is in the middle of their 5th divorce. It also urks me to be told that I do not enjoy parenthood as much as I should from someone who doesn't keep up with my blog.

That is all.

What goes around comes around

For much of my life, my mom has always been the most giving person I know. She is the main reason why I try to donate as much as possible. I think it's important because I'm so fortunate. I believe in the general rule of 'what goes around, comes around' and if you do good, the day will come when good will be done to you. I can think of countless times when she has given up her time to help someone who needs it, but more than that, she has no problem forking over money to help.

I guess I should say "had" instead of "has."

The divorce she's going through is taking its toll. I suppose it goes to show that it's easier to "help" if you're not worried about money. It's hard for me to watch what my mom is going through. She wants to help but just simply can not. It's now her turn to ask for help. And that's hard for her to do. And it's hard for me to watch.

And it's just the beginning, right?

Let's assume that things work out for her and she is able to somehow get out of this divorce still standing on two feet, or at least kneeling. Then there is no problem. But what if she doesn't? Then what?

Michael and I have a plan for retirement. Our plan is to put our children through school and have the retirement we want. Our plan is working but our plan does not include our parents. We assumed they had their own plans. What happens when theirs fall apart? What happens to our plan?

And strangely, this isn't even about my mom and her financial situation.

It's about my brother. My brother has never been able to, nor will he ever be, make much money. He has been working at the same job now for 16 years. That sounds good. The sad part is that he's still not a permanent employee. He works 40 hours a week but does not get any benefits. No vacation, but more importantly, he gets no insurance. He is insured through my mom. Don't get me started on how much that infuriates me.

See where this is going?

My brother has a major dental issue that will cost $4,000 to clear up. Where is my mom going to get the money for that? The answer was in her tears. She has no idea. The money will come from somewhere - it HAS to. And most likely a portion of it will have to come from us (if Michael happens to read this before I chat with him, obviously there is more to it than that).

Get him past this point and all goes back to normal, right? But what about next time? He is not getting any younger and certainly is a person who is most likely prone to having big medical issues prop up, instead of the small ones.

Yes Michael and I are very fortunate to have a plan, and one that looks promising. But where does that plan end? It's not like I can say "no" to my mom's needs? Or can I? And after her, then there's my brother? Oh, and why stop there? What about the other grandparents? What if their plans fall apart? When I look at the numbers, Michael and I are the only ones who can "afford" to help. But we can't afford to take it all upon ourselves. And is it fair to expect us to, simply because we're more responsible with our finances than others?

My father-in-law is burning through his money trying to take care of his father-in-law. What happens after that? Traditionally, the next generation takes on the burden. But where does it end? Is it really reasonable to expect the next generation to always pick up the slack? I don't want to do that to my children, but when I look at the possible worst-case, or even the possible likely-case, I'm not sure even I would be able to avoid passing on the burden.

And all this because my brother has a stupid tooth infection.

Vicariously living a good childhood at 60

My sister and I had a good heart-to-heart talk with my mom yesterday. She told us about her messed up childhood and how she thinks it has affected the decisions she has made throughout her messed up life. In the end, it's all horrid stuff that is not my story to share. As such, let's just stick to the more universal aspects of her story...

Generation gaps. They amaze me.

Generation 1: My grandparents
My grandparents were dirt poor. I'm sure that they struggled a lot with wondering how they were going to pay the bills, let alone heat the house, let alone feed EIGHT kids. When my grandma found out that she was pregnant with her 7th (and then 8th) she melted down and trembled with fear for telling Grandpa, who in turn got very angry. There was no joy in the news. In fact, there was no joy in their lives. My mom looks at her mom now and sees an old lonely woman who has missed out on so much in her life because she has never allowed herself a moment of joy. Perhaps she just couldn't afford to. Perhaps it was just the way that generation was.

Generation 2: My mother
My mother went through a lot in her childhood. Some of it was just plain sick and disturbing, but she used to (and perhaps still does) attribute it to her parents never being there to protect her. Perhaps that was just the way it was done back then. My mom has no, I repeat NO, happy memories of her childhood. Instead she shared heartbreaking stories of how she feared for her life and yet feared the wrathe of her father even more. She learned to just not tell her father. If she did tell him, he would either decide she was making stuff up and punish her for it or he would punish her saying "I'll give you something real to cry about." There was no soothing of her fears. There was no embracing, telling her it would all be ok. There were no hugs saying that they loved her and were proud of her.

Some of her stories of how her parents weren't around to protect her started way back when she was 3 years old. When I hear about what she had to endure (and I'm not even talking about the bad stuff), I can not imagine how scared and alone she must have always felt. The family of eight kids practically had to raise themselves. They couldn't go to their dad for support or protection because his punishment was more feared. And they couldn't expect their mom to help them - she tried it once and never again.

Generation 3: Me and my siblings
My mom quickly learned that she did not want to raise us the way she was raised. The amount of strength and courage this must have taken is absolutely astonishing. It's much easier said than done because if you don't raise your kids the way you were raised, then how do you know the alternative options? My mom used to sit on her hands so that she forced herself to not be able to spank us or slap us if she was upset. I remember her sitting on her hands throughout my childhood. I never knew why. My mom is not a perfect mother, but when I compare the way she was raised to the way she raised us, I have a lot of respect for her. The self-help books that we made fun of her for - they all make sense to me. She couldn't read them fast enough and always felt like she was only one step in front of us.

In many regards my mom raised us by herself. Technically speaking, that's not true, but she certainly didn't have any true partnership. She did not enjoy parenting but she felt obligated to it and felt strongly that she needed to shelter us so that we could have a better life.

I look at how I turned out and I compare it to my mom. She married her first husband after having known him for a week because she was absolutely convinced that it was her only chance to have someone willing to marry her. She was slapped when she told her dad she wanted to be an engineer, and though I even experienced a similar reaction from Grandpa, I had enough support from others in my life. She says she was almost 30 years old when she got her first hug from her father.

I don't know how she bridged that gap so well but I have always been so incredibly thankful for how drastically different my life was from hers, regardless of a few unavoidable similarities. Somehow a woman who has never had any self confidence was able to raise a daughter (perhaps two, but I can't speak for my sister) who has always been very self confident. I have always believed in myself because my mom believed in me. She never had that.

Generation 4: My daughters
When my mom spoke of some of her earliest memories I couldn't help but imagine my daughters in those situations. Mom's earliest memories were from when she was 3 years old, younger than my Ellie. I think more than anything else, that's the stuff that affected me the most. The horrible stuff I was able to be numb about (how can you not) but picturing my daughter having to go through the experiences my mom went through without any feeling of protection or love from your parents... that's when the tears would flow for me.

My mom says there is no better anti-depressent than spending time with my daughters. She says that she's always at awe with them and their lives. She finds herself staring at them realizing that this is the way children SHOULD be. They're allowed to run and laugh without their parents thinking they don't have enough work to do. They're allowed to giggle without being told they must be up to no good. They're given hugs and know that they are loved. Very much loved. They're comforted when they fall and hurt themselves or if they're terrified of something. If they tell us something of importance, we believe them instead of punishing them for making up stories.

It must be weird for my mom to watch them and wonder what her life would have been like if she had a childhood like the one they do. For me, it's heart breaking to think of my girls going through even a portion of the stuff my mom did.

What my children will grow up to think is "normal" is a complete 180 from what my mom thought was "normal" and a nice side effect of this is the fact that there are many more laughs going around.

It's heartbreaking for me to think about all that my grandparents missed out on and how miserable their lives must have been in order to raise their kids as miserable as they were raised.

I know it's a generational thing but I still can't understand it.

Travel Buddies

I am a lucky person to have found a perfect travel buddy who is also a perfect husband. I don't think I can put my finger on why we travel so well together, but it's just always easy. It would be nice to say that it's as simple as "we like seing and doing the same things," but there is more to it than that. He likes museums more than I do and I like churches more than he. But somehow, we're able to get past these details without noticing them at all.

Every now and then I have fantasized about finding another couple with whom we can develop a life-time travel buddy relationship. We've come across groups of people like this in our own travels. The group consists of two couples and it's the perfect set-up. Because there are four of them, they can break away and do whatever they want to do without feeling guilty about leaving anyone alone. If the husbands want to go see the local salt mine tour, but the wives would rather spend the day in the local market, then it's not a problem.

I LOVE this idea. The concept is perfect. I would love to find that special couple who fit our traveling styles perfectly. I think the potential for seeing and doing more and enjoying ourselves more at the same time is... well... there is a reason it's called a "fantasy."

Sometimes I think that my sister could be involved in my fantasy (hmmm... I don't think I've ever said those words before... it's a little creepy). There is potential there for it to work out. However it was NOT a match with her ex-husband. Definitely not. No siree. We went on two separate trips to Europe with them - one to Paris and one to London, and we clashed both times. Nothing major happened, unless you consider the passive-agressive-frustration to be "major."

Regardless, it just wasn't EASY like it is when Michael and I travel together. That's what I want more of... EASY... only with a slightly larger group.

Michael and I are now trying to decide details on our vacation plans for the year. I'm so excited about all the trips we're thinking of taking, but the big one is to Europe for a week and a half (I have to get past the guilty mother syndrom, but it looks like it's going to happen). We're thinking France. Yay!

And now my sister is with someone else. There is a reason why her ex is an ex. I like her new boyfriend but he has a certain je-ne-sais-quoi that rubs me the wrong way. He's fantastic with her and certainly doesn't have issues with me, which is great. He's smart and has a dry, but present, sense of humor. If I had to attempt at describing the je-ne-sais-quoi trait, it would have something to do with his confidence. He definitely has a lot of that.

Anyway, this isn't necessarily about him. Except that it is. My sister wants to resubmit her application for our Life-Long Travel Buddies. But I hesitate...

Though she's now with a different guy, one who I like MUCH MUCH more than her ex, her ex was only half of the story right? It's hard to decide how much of the mismatch was really his fault. I shouldn't even say "fault" but you know what I mean. Some of the mismatch HAS to be credited to my sister. Right?

Alas... I feel like we owe it to her to do a trial run. Right? I am hoping that we'll be able to pull off a quick long weekend trip to Oxford (for Michael's work) with her and her new beau. If that doesn't happen, or if it happens well... then perhaps they can tag along for a portion of our trip to France? I'm not jumping for joyful anticipation of this, but I don't have a good reason to say no. Do I?