Two weeks ago, my husband and I went on vacation. Just the two of us.
It was a perfect, perfect time in Mexico. We spent our days eating tacos, drinking coffee, talking about theology and walking along the beach. So, it was basically the same stuff we always do, with a lot better scenery. And a lot less children.
We came home to the busyness of Easter weekend, followed by the big kids’ spring break. Two weeks ago feels like two years ago.
Guys, we have never done a vacation like that before. So I didn’t know.
I didn’t know how bad the withdrawals would be.
When I look at my pictures, I feel a nostalgic ache in my heart. When I open my cupboard and see the bag of coffee from the coffee shop we discovered, a twinge of sadness passes over me.
I unpacked my luggage (two weeks later, because I’m a stellar housekeeper). One of my shirts smelled like the aroma therapy lotion from the spa we visited and it was just TOO MUCH.
Yesterday, I was watching a TV show set in the Caribbean and the scenery… I couldn’t even handle it!
I left my heart in Cabo.
But it’s OK. We have plans to go back.
In like 10 years.