Try to imagine yourself in TK's brain.
No, wait, just try.
There's a thicket of thoughts so unbelievably thick that you can't believe how thick they are.
Say that five times fast, savvy?
First and foremost among my thoughts this evening is actually not my vacation folks.
It's the boy.
THE boy.
My boy.
My boy is growing up. Every day is something new. I know I've said before that I love babies, and I do, I truly do. But I love my son at this age. Even though three years old can mean all sorts of attitude and crazy behaviors and who are you and what have you done with my child, it can also mean something wonderful. Like a rampant imagination. Where he's started creating his own scenarios for his toys, and his own imaginings for us to pretend and it's just so unbelievably wonderful.
He's his own little person, and he wants me to play with him, and he's sharing a part of himself with me. And he is part of me. And part of DH. In a way that nothing else ever will be, because my DS is unique. That's for certain.
And my wonderful, sweet little boy, who's not so little anymore, is suddenly seeming so big to me. He's grown so tall, and lost essentially all of his "baby fat." No more rounded tummy, no more chubby cheeks, no more. It's all little boy now, turning into little boy limbs and muscle.
And all of that spark and energy and zest for life is the reason I keep getting up and going to work when I don't want to. I do it for him. I do it for DH, and I do it for our family.
And you're probably wondering why I'd go so in depth about this.
But it's all about the boy.
He's going to preschool.
In September. Right before we leave for vacation, he'll start. I finally buckled down and sent in the first semester payment, and now it's real. My little boy is going to preschool two days a week, two and a half hours a day. He's potty-trained, he's growing up, and he's going to school.
It's the beginning of the end of one era, and the breakthrough of another. The moment where he's no longer just ours, but where he makes his first steps into a larger world. And I'm so proud of him.
And it's so hard on me. I am, actually, crying as I write all about my boy. And his preschool, and these first steps. It's very, very hard for me to send him, even though I know it's best. I know this socialization will give him so much more than I could even measure in words, and we'll all be better for it.
He's going to the exact same preschool I went to. Funny how things work. He'll have his school picture taken by the same photographer that took all my photos. By the man that took my pictures for school, and prom, and senior yearbook. It's amazing how life just comes full circle.
And on the cusp of my boy, who will always be my baby regardless of his age, going to preschool, I feel even more grateful for our vacation and for the things that we do in our pirate's life for three.
I've been working these past few weeks to get our appointments straightened out. Haircuts for DS and I two weeks before the trip, eyebrow waxes for me at strategic points. I called and arranged our transport to and from the airport, and I've slowly been squaring things away.
There's still much to be done as I wade through the intellectual thicket. Trying to find some reason in a world that seems, for me, almost turned upside down.
The end of one era and the beginning of another.
.
on a Croc! Too cute! 
Seriously, I progressed past first grade; shouldn't my sentence-length reflect that? 
I guess I am just not a shopping gambler anymore 
