For the months of July and August (possibly my 2 most favorite months of the year) I was cooped up in the hospital. I worked overnight. I worked weekends. Rain or shine. Wait, strike the rain part, there was no rain. I guess I could look at it as a blessing that it was deathly hot all Summer, as it would have hindered my pool ventures significantly, even if I'd had the time. But I get cabin fever, very easily. This claustrophobia has a tendency to evolve into my insisting we move. Yes, I became obsessed with the idea of uprooting my entire family of 5 {plus 3}, while in the busiest time of our lives, to find a new home, namely one with a main floor mud/washroom just because I felt cooped up for a few weeks. My name is Erin, and I have a chaos problem.
Luckily, my family knows me all too well. Turns out, like the Kate Spade hat, in my favorite color of green, that my MIL gifted me for my 30th birthday says, "I need a vacation". So, besides a great night out for dinner and a movie at the new Alamo Movie house to see "TED", that's exactly what my husband gave me: Chicago. He purchased a City Pass to see 5 attractions in Chicago, one of these housing real Dinosaur bones, which is something I have always wanted to see firsthand. Did dinosaurs really exist? Really? Doesn't seem possible. [Insert Missouri state slogan here.]
One sister made sure to get me a mug pointing out my age, because no 30th is complete without a little bit of flaunting that she is still in her 20's. The other got me balloons, perhaps attempting to preserve my youth. My mother made my usual birthday treat, sauteed mushrooms, as those are banned from my house, due to the fact that the smell induces retching from the ol' hubs. And, for my 4th night of birthday celebrating, my in-laws provided a lovely dinner of meatloaf. So, despite my insane schedule, I managed to celebrate my birthday for nearly the entire month of August. Now that takes skill.
The vacation happened this last week of August, and I was so exhausted and happy to return to my home sweet home of over 6 years, that the moving bug has been cured. I love my familiar, happy home. The boys love it too. We will see how long this little venture staves off the next round of moving obsession. I know Brock is always with me on this one. He continually talks about "needing a new house". Hopefully, the start of school in a week will nip his Cabin Fever in the bud.
What a great, fantastic, dream of 30 years. Seriously, what would I ever change? I dreaded this number, but I have already grown to love it. Finally, my age matches my shoe size...er, I mean maturity. I always think of my mother as being in her 30's, doesn't seem to be a bad decade to be eternally stuck.
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