Weird- only 37 days until we get to go somewhere hot, humid, and beautiful. A land flowing with guacamole and cervesa.
Last year when we were counting down, I felt like I was literally dying in the winter of 2014.
It was a terrible winter. Colder than any human should endure. Plus bronchitis, an unending cough, and a house full of the most obnoxious preschoolers I've ever endured.
We were totally stuck indoors- hacking, crying, and throwing endless tantrums.
It was the worst of times.
And soooo the best time ever for Brian to win a free trip. I clung to the thought of flying out of Winnipeg like Kate Winslet clung to her bit of Titanic debris. Dresses and bikinis came out of the closet weeks in advance, and I soothed myself through painful afternoons by reading endless reviews on trip advisor.
And when the countdown was finally over, we boarded that early morning flight to Cancun and embarked on seven of the most glorious days and nights of our lives.
Straight up bliss. Hair thick with salt water. Books by the stack. No cooking, cleaning, scheduling, or alarms. Flowers, green grass, trees and iguanas.
I stretched out and tried to fill every pore in my body with that sun.
In 37 sleeps, we get to do that all over again. It feels different this year- partly I imagine because we have done it before. Last year was the first time ever that Brian and I have done something so gloriously relaxing and inclusive. So, this year I know what to expect. I remember the pools, the hot concrete, the way the humidity beads your water glass. The orange juice and champagne at breakfast, the cats that wander by begging for scraps, the birds that swoop in to help clear the plates. I remember how light the ocean water makes you feel, the crinkle of salt on my skin and hair, the sounds of the birds in the early morning light.
And so when I let myself- I get excited. But this winter has been different- sure, the toddlers have shown more mercy, the worst offenders have replaced their tantrumming ways with words much of the time and the temperatures have been more tolerable. But the big difference is that now my dad lives in the hospital.
So this winter has been spent taking shifts to be with him, and there have been worrying times. Lately though, it seems that a "new normal" has taken shape, and we are cautiously easing into life with dad on new terms. So in ways, I'm not in any hurry for time to pass quickly.
But time will continue to pass. Mexico will approach, with her sun and greenery.
Countdowns of different kinds.