About once a year, I wax poetic about “the rivah”. I talk ad nauseam about how wonderful and peaceful and truly relaxing it is. I go on and on about how the Northern Neck has quickly become one of my favorite vacation spots ever. How its beauty is unassuming and yet resplendent and how I never EVER want to leave.
I’ll spare you all of that today. (Ha.)
A few weekends ago, Mary Grace and I headed to the river for a girls’ weekend before she’s launched into the world of kindergarten. (I know.) I bravely stepped back and let Mary Grace call the shots during the course of those few days. Not surprisingly, this translated to: (1) dead-animal-hunting (read: she started a collection of every dead/decaying sea creature and insect she could get her hands on), (2) a weekend-long possibly-hazardous diet of McDonald’s and Slurpees, and (3) lots of talking. So much talking. Bless her chatty little heart, the child never.stopped.talking.
Basically, it was great. I always love one on one time with the kids, and this was, for sure, a weekend that I’ll always remember. And the best part? We didn’t have to mourn our departure because…
alas! We knew we’d be back a mere FOUR days later with THE WHOLE CREW! I’m pretty sure our grand arrival disrupts something in the delicate Northern Neck ecosystem. No really. I googled “noise pollution” and started feeling a little guilt-ridden. Regardless, it was all kinds of wonderful. For us. Not the rest of the planet.
On one of our last days of vacation, I looked at Matt and informed him, “I’ve officially reached my maximum level of relaxation. This is as relaxed as I can possibly get. Just so you know.” For Matt, few words are more enchanting. I’m telling you- the place is pure magic.
Sadly, however, the magic had to come to an end. Upon our arrival home- within moments of setting foot in our house- I looked at Matt again, this time devoid of any relaxation of which I had previously boasted, and I said, “Alright, Matt. You watch the kids. It’s GO TIME.” And I started flying about, maniacally unpacking and washing and scheduling and emailing and allofthethings. After an entire weekend of this, um, maybe-not-endearing behavior, I finally collapsed on the couch and sighed, “Ahh. That’s better.”
Sorry, babe. Hope you enjoyed the enchantment and magic while it lasted. There’s always next year.