Me: "You don't want me to go, right Dizzle?"
Dizzle: "No Mommy. You go. Leave."
And my heart broke. She was supposed to beg me to stay. Or cry. Or even act like she cared in the slightest. But, just like I suspected, Dizzle (and Doodle, for that matter) weren't upset that we were leaving them for the first time. In fact, I'm pretty sure they were happy about it.
And this picture is evidence why:
Yes, that is a can of soda in Dizzle's hands. And a bag of Tostitos on her chair. Neither of those things would happen under my watch. Add this pictorial evidence to the fact that when J and I called his parent's halfway through our 10 mile run to check in (and let them know where we went - we kind of just disappeared), Dizzle was eating rainbow sherbet. AT 10:30 A.M!! SERIOUSLY!!
Anyway, these events simply proved to me what I have long suspected.
GRANDMA AND GRANDPA SPOIL DIZZLE AND DOODLE ENDLESSLY! (as they should - but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it.)
AND when I'm not around, my rules go out the window.
But despite the four zillion tons of sugar that they ingested, we all had a great time. The girls spent time at the zoo and at Camp (J's family's cabin on a small lake in Connecticut).
And J and I had some alone time. For the first time. In three and a half years. It was great. We caught up with old friends, met some new ones, worked out together (hmmm, take that however you want), ate some amazing food (read: gorged ourselves), talked A TON (without interruption) and had the chance to sleep in. I say chance, because we still woke up before 7 A.M. both mornings. I know, an opportunity wasted. Basically it was amazing. And a slap in the face reminding us of how easy life was before kids.
But on Sunday morning, I wanted nothing more than to go see my babies. The break was nice, but I even said it while we were away, "I wish they had been with us." Apparently, Dizzle and Doodle didn't feel that way. When we returned (to Camp), they barely acknowledged that we were back. Finally, after some prying, Dizzle announced, "I missed you so much." And I almost believed her.
We spent the rest of our vacation going back and forth between Camp and the in-law's house, spending our final evening with A and E (who happen to live 15 minutes from J's parents).
Sarcasm aside, the whole trip was great (even if we were ready to get back). The ride didn't even suck. OK, maybe it sucked a little. Despite making record time (under 10 hours each way), there was one minor (and foul-smelling) mishap. About halfway through our return trip we stopped at BK for lunch. And when we were about to exit the parking lot, we were halted by a cough, a BLEH sound and a sour smell. Yes, that's right. Doodle had vomited all over herself and her car seat. And who had to clean it up? That would be me. The pregnant woman. With the heightened sense of smell. It's been hours and I can still smell it (and I'm not even in the car). I'm just happy I didn't add to the mess.
Now, be honest. Did you really think the B girls were going to make it through an entire vacation unscathed? Didn't think so.
I leave you with some visual fodder of our journey.
J and I at the wedding
Grandma and Doodle at Camp
The girls and J making a pond
Dizzle and A