You’ve dreamed about it, you’ve even practiced and then suddenly you look at your calendar and it hits you… 2 months! In 2 months,  a little more than 60 days, just over 1440  hours you’ll be out there with no safe harbour – floating with your family in the universe.

It’s not a dream for the faint of heart.

And to say that I’ve had occasional moments of complete Freak Out would be an understatement.

When asked, the thing I most often compare it to is my wedding.

Ish and I met in 1990 and have been together ever since.

wonderland 90

In the beginning...

High school sweethearts who were lucky enough to realize early that we had a good thing going and hold on to it.  We married in 1999. Nine years is a long time to get to know a person so when it came to the wedding I had no nerves about who I was committing to. But as any bride to be will tell you there comes a moment before every wedding when all of the emotions and scheduling and stress of planning the wedding bubbles  to the surface and like a volcano eventually explodes .

For me that was a casual family Sunday dinner at my parents house.  Just like any other my poor family didn’t even see it coming. But somewhere between “pass the peas” and “can I have a glass of water,” my volcano erupted.

I went to put a forkful of food in my mouth and missed it…completely.

As per usual in my house the family laughed. It’s what we do and in any other circumstance I would’ve laughed right along. Instead, the volcano? She blew.

Tears, big blubbery, snotty nosed tears that at first had my family stunned and then laughing even harder. (Seriously it’s what we do)

When they realized what was happening they calmed me down and we had the talk about the wedding and the stress and the emotions and it was fine.

We went on to have what was – up until my cousin Jason’s recent nuptials (tips hat) – the best wedding I’ve ever been to, and almost 12 years later we’re still happily married.


the happy day photo by Vince Talotta

Recently I’ve felt the volcano rumbling again.

I have the same certainty about our decisions, just the nerves that come with trying to plan it all and the normal fears about keeping everyone safe , healthy and happy.

I’m working hard to keep the lava at bay and so at night I try to think about the things I know for sure about this trip.

Here’s what I know:

I want to do this. Ish wants to do this. The kids are going to learn so much. We want this for them. We want this for all of us.

And yet. In the middle of the night when I wake up, heart racing, sweat beading I’m never quite sure if it’s because I’m excited or terrified.

We’ll leave in July and we’ll be fine, but forgive me if from time to time I spew a little insecurity or fear.  I promise not to blow…too often.

And if you’ve got ideas about how to keep the freak out at bay? I’m all ears.