The Eagle has landed.

Mama Syd and Papa Chris are here. They arrived in Rapid in time to catch the final Fifth and Broadway performance and surprise the kids afterwards.

Now they want us there.

So we are off. I am missing my pregnant self. Not the sick-on-my-knees-in-the-bathroom self but the organized, orderly self that I am while gestating. Last year there were individual bags for the kids with matching outfits and rain jackets. This year there is, as I type, an overflowing laundry basket with a mix of clean and dirty clothes that don’t match at all (camo shorts and a flag shirt? Hoo-rah!) that will hopefully cover the two nights they will be away. They have enough chonies, for sure, as long as there are no accidents. Fingers crossed!

I am valiantly trying to not beat myself up over the swirling cloud of chaos that we are because, honestly, the kids don’t notice. Or care. They are anxious to ride bikes and shoot arrows and get dirt under their finger nails and just be with Mama Syd and Papa Chris. The same goes for me.

We were so excited to see them that we went up a week before their arrival to open things up and air them out so they could have more time with us right away. It was soothing for our world weary souls and strange to do it on our own. We got sunburned and mowed the lawn and reveled in Gemma’s introduction to the Lake. It was fitting that her first taste of dirt was there -she seemed to like it.

This first day of summer marks the start of the back and forth. A great way to celebrate I think.