Hot Air

We are getting ready for our week long San Francisco/Napa vacation starting this Sunday. We are leaving Reagan and Kiefer with Aunt Bekah. And I'm getting nervous. Not for the boys because I know they will be fine. They will love (almost) every minute of being with Bekah and Eric and the girls. They will love the extra attention. I know they'll miss us, but its only a week. We'll pack our pictures in their bag so they can remember us. (Oh man, hopefully they don't start confusing me and Bekah like everyone else and start thinking she's their mom!!) And I'm not really nervous because I'll miss them. I mean, I know I will. I might shed a tear or two or three when we leave them. And I'm sure I'll say "I miss my babies" every night when I know Bekah's reading them a bedtime story and squeezing them good-night. (side note: to counter these sad moments, I will relish sleeping in until 8:00 if I so chose, navigating shops without a double stroller and 4 grabbing hands, and enjoying meals without chicken nuggets and sippy cups flying past my head)

I'm nervous for a completely different reason. I'm beginning to have what I will admit are irrational fears. I am fearing things I would have never feared 3 years ago. Planes crashing, earthquakes swallowing cities, hot air balloons exploding. (yes, in my mind I've tried to recall that ONE story I heard about a fatal balloon ride so I can fear that once-in-a-lifetime experience too).

So I guess I'm admitting these things so you can

1) tell me I'm crazy

2) tell me I'll be safe

3) pray that I will indeed be safe

Thanks.