So we had actively decided to take a family vacation to the Outer Banks this year. I looked up a few likely suspects for a one-week rental house and we tossed around ideas for a few dates.
THEN, Big Daddy T's Mama decided that she is going to treat herself, for her very special birthday this year, to a one-month rental in August... and invited us to spend whatever portion of that month with her that we would like.
Holy. Freaking. Awesome.
THEN, Big Daddy T tells me that Sure, why not, why don't I go ahead and stop pining for the BlogHer conference this year and go ahead and GO already. I mean, it's in San Fran (Hello Old Stomping Grounds!), in the middle of the summer when kids are out of school and weather is beautiful, and it's before I'll be so pregnant that the notion of waddling around San Fran would feel less like a luxury and more equivalent to a waterboarding.
So I'm thinking about it. And I'm also thinking about maybe using his frequent-flyer miles to truck my happy behind out to Rome, Italy and visit with my brother and his lovely wife and their adorable children.
But I can hardly rationalize, even to my spoiled self, taking both trips alone this year. Especially, really, when you include the fact that I'll likely get to spend a few weeks basking in the salt-spray of the Outer Banks come August.
So it's decision time. And I have to figure out what I want to do more... Finally get my chance to accost Dooce and make a fool of myself with the laughing and the weeping on her tiny, tiny shoulder and maybe compare buddha bellies with the also-pregnant Amalah (and probably end up with a restraining order by the time I finish frightening these and the rest of my favorite blogging Mamas..) Except for the effervescent MochaMomma, who I'm sure totally won't take it the wrong way if I happen to suddenly lick her face or perhaps administer a firm smack to her posterior...
OR...
I could finally have a real excuse to get a passport and, at long last, set foot in Europe. Not just any part of Europe, but ROME, people! The architecture, the history, the art, the FOOD. I'd also mention the wine but, sadly, the fetus in my belly makes that impossible. But still... ROME!
Seriously, I should always be faced with such dilemmas. Like winning the lottery and having to choose Bulk Payout or Incremental. Still and all, though, it's going to be a difficult thing to make up my mind....
5 comments:
So, what's the dilemma again? You don't want to travel alone? Because... I offer no decision, but rationale instead... with munchkin number 3, when is the next time you will actually have the opportunity to make both trips?If you have the ability to go, you should.
Ok, Rome is cool, but to meet dooce.........yeah, Rome.
Kidding, I'm kidding!
But see, if you go to Rome during the last two weeks of August, you won't be alone, 'cuz Nic and I will be in the area.
I think it's a decadent lifestyle to have Rome and ass-smacking, face-and-other-parts-licking Mocha Momma. I mean, that's just not fair for one person to endure.
Not only did I touch Dooce's shoulder I stupidly squeezed her little owie spot and then we talking about putting on pants and taking them off just to shit.
Not kidding. That was our conversation. So, while no authority on the woman, I can safely say she would love the ass-smacking, too.
Amalah just wants you to talk dirty to her.
Wait. I want that, too.
And Rome.
ROME.
Aaaahhhhhhh. Do it, girl. (Also, you're a BEAUTIFUL, GORGEOUS 29)
Did I say "we talking"?
Jeebus.
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