When the second trimester of pregnancy hits people ask you if you are "nesting." And, until you start cleaning the house, throwing away horded crap, and searching craigslists for bouncing and swinging plastic you are not sure exactly what they mean. But it was not until I spent a weekend away from the Bellingham did I realize that we have been nesting for well over a year.
While I knew I would miss my family, I felt totally confident that Justin had the situation until control, and in all honestly I was glad to have a weekend to care for myself. I left on Friday for the NCA conference in San Fransisco and came home today with a fresh perspective. I forgot that even though I go to bed at 9, there are people partying through the night every night of the week. I had forgotten that not everyone sits down for three meals and two snacks a day. I forgot how nice it is to feel the buzz of a city. I had forgotten how much I love to think about theoretical ideas and that the sun comes out in November. But most of all I had forgotten how much I missed my girls.
While I have a great community in Bellingham, I am constantly straddling the life of a working mom. Running home to see my babies after a long day and staying up late to respond to student emails. Yet there are few people who can say they truly love their life, and I can. My job is intellectually stimulating and my family loving and tender. But I have been lucky enough to have meet some really amazing women over the years. I have great friends from each chapter of my 33 years yet the closets lives farther than I could drive in a day. With exception of the southwest, I have close girlfriends living in every US region, the shortest distance between them is a eight hour drive. Some I talk to daily, others weekly or monthly, and some not at all. Yet this weekend, for a short time, I got to spend quality uninterrupted time with many of them. Together we ate great meals, talked about great ideas, did a little shopping, laughed ourselves to tears, and danced in ways I forgotten how much I missed. I tried to cherish each moment drawing on my yogic practice, pushing to be faithfully present ignoring both past and future. Yet when it was over, I could not hold back the tears (transition has never been my strength).
I was not sad to return, for I missed my family. Plus Morgan can now say socks and Addy has grown at least ten more red hair. But my heart hated they my girls did not know my family, that they did not live close, and that I had no idea when I would see them all again. It is so nice to know how well of these girls are doing. They are all loved, brilliant, and beautiful, but missed. A special thanks to Lindsay, Helen, Jen, Karen, Danielle and many others for a truly a great weekend.
PS: Staring Saturday the Astions start pouring into Bellingham, stay tuned for a family thanksgiving - my Grandfather has already packed the traditionally Thanksgiving tablecloth- there better be no luggage problems between Florida and Washington.
