we'll always have france...

you guys...

a few weeks ago i returned from the best kind of therapy there is.  and no, not the kind with a dr. doodling in a notepad.  the kind with plane tickets, passports and adventure.  the kind that rejuvenates you, even though you've been going nonstop.  the kind where you remember a little bit of who you were and who you are becoming.

but let me go back a bit.  back to last spring when i was in our basement sulking because once again i was feeling sorry for myself.  being a parent is hard.  it requires dying to yourself every single day.  and it starts from conception for a mother.  because what was once your body is NO. LONGER. YOUR. BODY.  guess what?  i still don't have my body back.  it's like i've signed up to be a permanent jungle gym with the upgraded feature of padded equipment (for safety, of course).  kjaer was heading out on a mini trip to visit his brother and i was sulking.  it was a selfish sort of sulk... but sometimes i feel bad for myself because ever since this parenting gig i haven't gotten to travel like i used to.  and if i do travel, it's not been to a destination i picked per se.  now don't get me wrong, we went on an amazing adventure to bermuda a few years ago with little itsy bitsy leif and teeny tiny henley to visit my brother and sister in law (they were performers on a cruise ship).  that was an incredible adventure and so much fun. and we've had a couple of short trips to vegas.

but i'm talking about seeing a part of the world that i've pointed to on a map and said... "i wanna go here".  i've sent kjaer on many small trips to california to visit his brother, once on a large trip to Disney World with his family... all while staying home with our little ones.  it's been a small sacrifice... but i haven't been quiet about it.

 i can get rather broody about it, actually.

don't get me wrong.  kjaer sacrifices all of the time too.  hello... he's a parent.  and a damn fine one, if i say so myself.  but just go with me here... because it's building up the backstory to our present time! traveling has been a part of my soul... my dad was a truck driver and when i was a kid he would toss my family into his truck for a few weeks at a time during the summer.  traveling restores me and gives me something to look forward to. 

so... back to sulking in the basement.  kjaer is very patiently allowing me my space to sulk and talk and do all the things i think i need to do when i feel like a victim of sacrifice.  and then he asked me the critical question, "what would help you move forward?"

and i answered the question without hesitating... 

"planning a trip for the two of us to Paris.  like... with an actual timeframe.  setting up a fund at the bank and contributing money to it.  A. Legit. Plan."

he was totally fine with this... although i don't know that he really thought things would unfold as quickly as they did.  our first step was to take a portion of our tax return that year and ceremoniously deposit it into the Paris fund.  (well, it was ceremonious for me.  i may have texted him a celebratory text that said something to the effect of, "just put money into our paris fund!"  

and he was probably like, "... ok...")

by september it was clear to me that it was highly likely that we'd be able to go to paris by the next summer due to a great side hustle i picked up.  I was turning 40 and we made a commitment on my birthday that during my 40th year of life we would go to paris to celebrate my fourties!

why paris, you ask???

well... i've always been enamored by it.  i took french in school starting in the 8th grade.  by the end of my junior year my teacher was pestering me to take AP French my senior year.  i stupidly declined, not wanting to take any "hard" classes.  (insert eye roll at my stupid high school self).  but i've always dreamed of going.  then, when kjaer and i were dating i bought him a little paper eiffel tower after visiting a temporary monet exhibit in Washington DC.  i stuck it to his fridge and proclaimed he couldn't take it down until he had taken me to see it.  and then life sped up and paris was forgotten... or at least shoved into a dark, dank closet with my body from my 20's and my skinny jeans.  we got married and took a nice, but modest honeymoon through california.  it was perfect, really.  and best of all, we paid cash... so we weren't starting our marriage off in debt.  then we had babies... also perfect and hard.  i started working part time which meant sacrificing some extra stuff... ie - fancy vacations among other things.  so when he asked me to sum up my dream trip, paris just fell out of my mouth.  i've always wanted to go and here was my chance.

so i worked this extra job (which i adored, in the process... always a plus) and by november i had booked our airfare and hotel.  then i spent the next six months daydreaming, picking the brains of friends who had been, googling, researching and planning.  it was all so exciting, until i had to write the letter to my relatives about what to do with our sweet babies if kjaer and i went down in a fiery plane crash.  then i had about two weeks of fear, regret, sleepless nights and lots of nail biting....  and suddenly we were on the plane.

words can't even describe how this time with my man was like food for my soul.

if you asked me what my high point was... i would say that the entire trip was so fabulous that i couldn't name just one thing.  however, as i've spent the last few weeks thinking about how to share my adventures with you... one moment keeps surfacing for me.  it really touches the heart of WHY i needed this trip...

i had just finished taking this picture of kjaer standing at the front of St. Maurices in Annecy.  we were in france during a major heat wave and i was feeling quite unkempt.  internally i was struggling because i wasn't feeling very fashionable in my tennis shoes and do-rag.  plus, my insecurity was rearing its ugly head.  i was fretting about recent weight gain and feeling like a sausage walking around in a land of beautiful french women.  (seriously, they are insanely beautiful). thankfully, the cathedrals were nice and cool... an oasis for the hot and tired.  besides that, they were gorgeous.  so i was doing what i had gotten in the habit of doing in those old cathedrals... taking pictures of the beautiful ceilings, the organ, the stained glass.  as i put my camera down kjaer turned around and i started walking down the aisle toward him.  a goofy grin spread across his face.

"what!?!" i inquired.

"i can't really explain it." he said, "but it's like i was marrying you all over again!  you were coming down the aisle... to me!"  with that he linked arms with me and smiled as we turned to face the alter.  i may have melted right there in st. maurices... and not because of the heat.

that moment was just what i needed.  hot, sweaty, me...  the girl/woman who sometimes feels lost in motherhood, who is insecure about her body everything, who has sacrificed (as all parents do) hobbies like running, keeping up with music, and reading honest-to-goodness books for carpool, pre-school drop off, grocery shopping and laundry.  my man stood right there in that church and reminded me that he was as crazy about me... crazier even... as the day he married me.

did we have to go to france just to be reminded of that?  of course not.  kjaer tells me every day how special i am.  but something in that moment got through to me and i can't stop glowing from it.

if i could, i would go back to that tired, worn out, feeling sorry for herself mama in the basement.  i would take her by the shoulders and tell her that naming precisely what she needed was one of the smartest things she's ever done.  that her husband loves her deeply and would give anything to make sure she's feeling appreciated and special.  that giving him a tangible goal was speaking in his tongue.  and that way underneath her soft, fluffy skin there was still that lively, vivacious girl she once knew.  all she had to do was practice a little self care, even though it felt selfish, to get her to come out.  and that in doing so, she would find herself again.  and that 15 months from that sad, pitiful day, she would be standing in a church in France with her soul mate and feeling his love so deep in her marrow that it would make it impossible to not smile for the next several days.  and she would find herself thanking God right then and there for her marriage, her kids, her insanely amazing husband and the glorious gift of a trip to France.