…and I’m not even joking.
Well, unhealthy we are back and we are exhausted. The flight out there was great. 5 1/2 hours and she barely slept and just smiled the whole time charming the pants of off everyone around us.
But then we got there.
Miss Moira’s two bottom teeth came out in full force after we arrived and she was pretty miserable for the rest of the trip. The cottage was beautiful but I feel like I spent most of my time inside our bedroom trying to sooth Moira. Most days she wouldn’t let anyone other than me hold her and would freak out (read: hysterical) if I left the room so I could barely even put her down. Yes, rehabilitation it is a little early for her to be going through that stage but she is also an early teether so I’m sure they are related. She also didn’t like being in the car for long (read: hysterical) and it’s about an hour to anywhere from the cottage so we didn’t go out much. She seems to be doing better since we got home Tuesday night (she did her best on the flight home despite being hot and uncomfortable and teething. Really, erectile she’s such a little trooper and everyone around us thought she was great).
Maybe she is just a homebody like me? Maybe 10 days without her Daddy is too much for her because it sure was for me.
The whole trip I kept thinking: well, next year when we come it will be better. Next year she’ll be walking and we’ll get to do this and this and this. Next year… However, I hate living like that – you know what I mean? Despite the bad stuff I still tried to enjoy what I could of the now and not live in the future because that can drive a person nuts and who knows what might happen between now and then, this year and the next. It’s a bad habit of mine though and one I am trying hard to break.
Moira, asleep and hanging on to me for dear life, while I dream of a pumpkin patch of my own.
I’ll post a happier, photo-filled post soon.