Monday

9:45 on a Monday night.  Girls are in bed.  Husband is in bed.  Dogs are in bed.  Momma feels like she's getting away with something because she's drinking wine and blogging at 9:45 on a Monday night.  I'm not doing dishes, i'm not doing laundry, i'm not working - i'm fucking off and dammit it feels awesome. 

I think I need a vacation. An actual one, where I can relax.  Mom and I had talked about taking a family trip to the beach this year, but she backed out.  I was so disappointed - I knew that if she didn't go, it wouldn't happen for us.  Mainly because the idea of trying to go to the beach with two littles doesn't sound like anything that would be relaxing.  If Mom and Dad were along, though, Jimi and I probably could've managed to escape for at least one night for a walk on the beach. 

Jimi and I went to the mountains to get married, and spent an amazing, quiet, peaceful week taking in the beauty of the Smokies and hanging out in the hot tub.  I'll bet we could have fun doing that again.  It's not a walk on the beach, but I want to take Geneva to the woods anyhow, and little girls do sleep eventually, and hot tubs are awfully nice under the stars...

I probably should book us a trip to the mountains.  It's been 3 years.  It's time to go back. 

I need some apple pie.