Emma Gets Away

Hello, Emmafans.  Me again.  I know, I know.  You’re wondering whether Mommy is EVER going to actually write her own blog.  (One word for you Mommy: RESPONSIBILITY.  But I disgress . . .)  As you can see, I’m guest posting.  Again.

I mentioned in my last blog entry that I desperately needed a vacation.  Well, America, you’ll be happy to know: I got one.  My Bubbe rented a big house for me, my family, my aunties and uncles and my four big girl cousins.  It was a few hours and one car nap away from here.  We stayed there for a week. People: It. Was. Heaven.  Every time I turned around, there was someone to shower me with affection.  And teach me a new hand gesture.  But don’t get too excited: I’m not talking about the really good kind that you get to use when someone cuts you off in traffic.  (Yes, Mommy, I can see from the back seat.)  I’ll be honest, America.  That part was a bit disappointing.

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Too old for summer vacation?

Labor Day has come and gone.   And all across the land parents are putting away the summer whites, dropping a week’s pay at Staples for school supplies and then secretly doing the happy dance.  My kids are still too young for elementary school.  But parents, I feel you.

Don’t get me wrong, we had a lovely summer– long afternoons at the playground, cooling off at the beach and the spray park, weekly pilgrimages to the local farmer’s market, and trips to see family and friends.  So why am I okay with watching those days slip away?  Essentially it boils down to this: I am old and infirm and summer requires a LOT of extra energy.  

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