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Eight days. Eight whole days without kids. I was giddy with excitment for weeks. And for good reason...Eight whole days...alone.

I am in a big believer in alone time for myself and with my hubby. I wouldn't survive our crazy life without it.  And, I think it is great for our kids.  They get some fun time with Nana.

That's not to say I don't have a hard time leaving the girls.  I always cry. I cried as I watched the girls board BART with my mom to head back home.  We are attached at the hip.  Where ever I go, they go.  So I suppose it is natural to bawl.  But I got over it quick.  Especially when I had an uninterrupted conversation with Doug.  Wow, what a concept.  I forgot how nice it was to not say Excuse me,  I'm taking to Dad right now.  You can wait until I'm done and then ask me your question.

There comes a point in all our trips where we really begin to miss the kids. I hit this point about day five.  My mind started to wander home.  I started thinking about Halloween instead of my impending rainforest hike.  I started thinking about soccer practices, snacks, and schoolwork instead of sleeping in.

Vacation is over.

Our flight returned late so the girls were in bed when we got home.  The next morning, I heard the excited pitter patter of little feet running down the hall.  Wow, it's great to be home. 

Flash forward to the follow morning, this morning, when Abby refused to wear a coat, Maddie wanted to wear flip-flops and everyone was grumping at Mom.  Wow, it's great to be home.