57 days until our vacation

But who's counting?

I'm hanging on to this because I am hopeful that after we look forward to it for so long, then go and come home, our house will have sold and we can focus on moving, thereby avoiding serious clinical depression.

I will miss Ainslie terribly. I will worry. I might cry.

BUT

I will sleep past 6:30 am.
I will read books without pictures.
I will probably gain 10 pounds because I only have to feed myself.
I will not blow on anyone's food.
I will get ready to go somewhere (like to another buffet) in less than an hour and a half.
I will have conversations with Craig and other adults that do not include shouted interjections about climbing, jumping, yelling, or riding the dog.
I will nap.
I will wear makeup.
I will drink. Probably more than is prudent.
I will engage in adult activity without being paged, loudly.

Ah. I will miss my sweet, funny little girl, but today I am counting 57 days.