Great weekend
In preparing for leaving the country for nearly two weeks to build houses and live in, er, 'rustic' conditions and work twelve hours a day building houses, Praeceptor and I took a little vacation this Friday and Saturday. We left LittleOne with her grandparents and went to a resort in the Berkshires. I got a massage and he soaked in a hottub and we went to museums (where Husband got a little taste of art appreciation), and ate great food and drank wonderful brews and stayed in a magnificent hotel suite and drove around the countryside exploring and went shopping for toddler clothes and wrapped it all up with the "Simpsons" movie. Also, throughout all that traveling, I read Harry Potter aloud. It was such a needed rest, and helped calm my nerves.
I've been very anxious about going on this mission trip. There are lots of silly reasons why, and they are mostly, as I say, silly, but there you are. The dumbest of these is that I have not been on a plane since our honeymoon in the summer of 2001. That is to say, not since before 9/11. Now, I loved flying, and never was afraid of getting on a plane, but I'm nervous about it now, and I just need to rip that bandaid off. But there are other things like leaving LittleOne, who is clingy and mopey since our return after two days away. Twelve days? She'll have grown five inches, learned an encyclopedia full of new words, and be pissed as hell at me for being missing for so long (*small voice* if she remembers who I am at all). Again, I probably have more chance of being blown up by terrorists than of my kid forgetting who her mommy is, but they're not called *irrational* fears for no reason.
It should be noted, lest you think otherwise, that I will miss Praeceptor as well, my best traveling buddy. But he is less likely to grow five inches taller and learn 800 new words over the course of two weeks. Also, he doesn't cry for his mommy, much.
Then there's the much more vague and generalized anxiety about being in a different country and culture where I don't speak the language and don't entirely know what to expect in terms of living conditions and expectations. And, to be perfectly honest, this whole thing requires a great deal of openness and vulnerability, things that are not exactly my strong suit. Of course, that's the point of requiring a mission trip: forcing individuals to act far outside the confines of our comfort zones.
I'm certainly excited to go; I've been looking forward to going on a mission trip for a while, and this one specifically for a year at least, but still it's a stretch, as it should be, and I think it's okay to be nervous. I feel better after a bit of relaxation, and feel very prepared. I just can't hug my little girl enough.
I've been very anxious about going on this mission trip. There are lots of silly reasons why, and they are mostly, as I say, silly, but there you are. The dumbest of these is that I have not been on a plane since our honeymoon in the summer of 2001. That is to say, not since before 9/11. Now, I loved flying, and never was afraid of getting on a plane, but I'm nervous about it now, and I just need to rip that bandaid off. But there are other things like leaving LittleOne, who is clingy and mopey since our return after two days away. Twelve days? She'll have grown five inches, learned an encyclopedia full of new words, and be pissed as hell at me for being missing for so long (*small voice* if she remembers who I am at all). Again, I probably have more chance of being blown up by terrorists than of my kid forgetting who her mommy is, but they're not called *irrational* fears for no reason.
It should be noted, lest you think otherwise, that I will miss Praeceptor as well, my best traveling buddy. But he is less likely to grow five inches taller and learn 800 new words over the course of two weeks. Also, he doesn't cry for his mommy, much.
Then there's the much more vague and generalized anxiety about being in a different country and culture where I don't speak the language and don't entirely know what to expect in terms of living conditions and expectations. And, to be perfectly honest, this whole thing requires a great deal of openness and vulnerability, things that are not exactly my strong suit. Of course, that's the point of requiring a mission trip: forcing individuals to act far outside the confines of our comfort zones.
I'm certainly excited to go; I've been looking forward to going on a mission trip for a while, and this one specifically for a year at least, but still it's a stretch, as it should be, and I think it's okay to be nervous. I feel better after a bit of relaxation, and feel very prepared. I just can't hug my little girl enough.