A few hours ago I reserved a hot tub in Hot Springs (NC) for myself and two lovely ladies next Saturday night.  We're staying in a little cabin on the river for the night, the three of us each taking of our mama hats for the evening.  For me, it will be for the first time.

Claire just turned three a week and a bit ago.  So, I kind of think I'm due.  I feel like I've been waiting for this for so long and yet, now that it's imminent, I'm just a bit, well..... hmmmm.  Don't know what I am.

Excited for hiking and hot tubs and a campfire and wine and good food and good conversation with some awesome ladies?   Heck yeah.

But then there's that little something else whispering ever so softly in my ear.  So softly, actually, that I have no clue what it's actually saying.  I'm not worried about her.  She'll be fine.  Pizza and a movie with papa, probably.  A bit of a drawn out bedtime, I bet.  But she'll be alright.  We'll all be alright, of course.  I'll be better than alright more likely than not.  A mama weekend will no doubt be a dose of good medicine for me and feed my soul.

And yet there's this:  As much as I feel like it sometimes takes way too long, I like singing her to sleep and watching her drift off, and I love her warm body next to mine when she comes into our room in the middle of the night and crawls under the covers with us.  Love hearing that breath and even her snuffly little snores.

It seems that while I wasn't looking, these things have become some of my touchstones.  Fancy that.

Though I remember very vividly threatening to leave and stay at a hotel on some of our worst nights when she was younger and seemed to never, never ever, sleep... now that we're past that (incredibly long and mind numbing) hump, well, hey, I'm alright after all.  And I've got a sense of the not-lasting-forever-ness of these kinds of things.

Mostly, I think it just feels big.  And that's what that indiscernible voice is whispering.

But, there will be hot tubs.  And wine.  I think I might just be alright.

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