As much as I love them, sometimes, I wish my kids would disappear for a while, a day, or even a few.

This afternoon, one of them is trying my patience in a battle of wills, and one is needing attention. We are attending to both, as we should. Playing our roles as good, attentive, caring parents. And I love it, we love it, wouldn't change it for the world and all. We know how lucky we are, believe me. Still it doesn't change the fact that I would just like them to disappear for a few days, so Tim and I could just be US. We have been WITH them, so intensely, for the last month. We took an epic family vacation. Encountered school stresses, for kids and parents alike, in the form of evaluations and testing. We faced a family funeral and had to take that time to adjust and to say goodbye. Now, I just want some time off, some time just for us.

Driving home from the store, with the clouds beginning to roll in, and with the 4 'o clock reality of Sunday evening looming, the song "Runaway" by Jefferson Airplane fed my angst even more.

"You don't know how much I miss you, I miss you like the sun. I want to put my arms around you, we could run, run, run, runaway."

Well, today saw the return of the summer sun. 78 degrees, I felt it through the roof of my car, as I zipped to the store, trying to make the most of the last thing I wanted to be doing. I was doing what had to be done. Tim was home, managing and mowing. Doing what had to be done. But the heat from the sun on my hair reminded me of how much I missed it. It reminded me of how our couple life feels right now. And I'm not talking about date night. We just had one on Friday. We have fun ones planned for the next two weekends, with other couples too. I mean us time, time alone, time to just BE. We get a lot more of it than some do, I know. But perhaps it is because of that that periodically we crave it more than most as well? It's not that anything is all that bad, or that anything is really wrong. We're just fried...tired. I know that a little time of JUST us will fix just about anything, and I know that a little time of JUST us would revive us both, allowing us to be, happily, the hands on parents that we both are. The parents that we both want to be. The people we both are.


Today, I just kinda miss us, and I wish we could just run, run, run.
Runaway.

Know how the Dixie Chicks sang about wide open spaces? I kind of get that now.

Have been spending the last couple of days recovering from our latest family travel adventure, 6 days trekking to and around Arizona. I keep wondering why I am still in a fog, but then I remember that even the one hour time change of "spring ahead" will bug me for a week, and we jumped three full hours on Thursday. Not to mention we flew in to Buffalo at 12:30am EST and then drove 3 hours to Lansing to spend the night. I was telling my seat mate on the airplane about our trip, and about our evening ahead, and mind you he was a hearty Buffalonian, rust belt raised, but he said even he would be getting a hotel room! Our family travels hard, and pushes through. I may be foggy now, but boy did we make the most of all the time we had.

With the amount we took in, in the time we were there; the things we saw, the miles we covered, I suppose I should give myself some leeway. And if you think about it, fog is good when it brings shade to the resurrection of real life, allowing a little more time to process a whole new world. Who knew that whole new world existed right within the borders of our own country? Not me, apparently, but I feel like I have been let in on a secret. Travel is that way.

Now I know I have piqued your interest. Do you want in on a few of the secrets I learned? Want some wide open spaces wisdom?

Saguaro cactus really have their own personalities that are pretty funny sometimes.
Canyons are really deep and steep, all of 'em, Grand and not so grand.
Petrified wood really is rock, and wood, at the same time.
You really can get your kicks on "Route 66," in a Wigwam even.
Meteors really make big big BIG holes sometimes.
Deserts are really vast, and open and dry, and still, for thousands of years, despite that, people have been living in them.
Red rocks are really all kinds of amazing shades of red.

I know, it all sounds stupid, kind of redundant even, but until you actually see it and feel it, I don't think it can be comprehended. Tim and I both were repeatedly awestruck, which, again, when you are in your forties is a really cool experience. To be blown away. To see like you have never seen before. We kept commenting to each other that we have seen photos of all of the things that we saw on our trip for our whole lives, but seeing them in person was like seeing them again, but for the first time. I would recommend it to anyone. Go west, young or old, man or woman, and have your eyes opened. There really is a whole world out there, just waiting to be explored.

Oh, and a final thought, while prickly, the prickly pear cactus really does make a DAMN good margarita!