A month or so ago my dad said some beautiful words to me. “You and Hubby ought to plan a trip for this summer and Mom and I will watch the kids.”
My hubby and I used to travel a lot before we had kids, mainly to South and Central America, but also around the United States. After our son was born, we continued to travel for the first two years of his life. But once the twins came, our traveling days were done. I always imagined we’d go on an epic international adventure for our tenth anniversary, but instead we found ourselves in our own real-life “Survivor” adventure as we made alliances with each other in order to survive infant twins on top of a three-year-old. We haven’t gone away alone together since the twins were born four years ago. So the thought of a vacation with just the two of us is almost too good to imagine.
Today I found myself daydreaming about all the places we could go. Do we go back to somewhere we’ve been, maybe Panama or Ecuador or Peru? Do we try somewhere totally different, like Iceland or a Argentina? Stay in the US or go abroad? There are too many choices, but all of them sound too good to be true.