Two days, 13 hours until I hop a flight to Florida.
Friday - laundry, pack, countdown
Friday night - haul baby girl to Philly to spend some quality time with the Grandparents
Saturday - drive home from Philly without listening to Backyardigans (or whining) in the back of the car.
Sunday - hop a flight to Tampa!
Wednesday - come home!
In between Sunday an Wednesday, time has no meaning for me.
I cannot wait. Greg will be at a conference each day, but I will be on vacation. We're staying at a nice hotel on the bay, which from what I understand I'll be within walking distance of a lot of stuff. Shopping. An aquarium. A hotel pool with lounge chairs...
I'm looking forward to eating at some restaurants without a high chair or booster seat or a child bouncing in the booth next to me refusing to eat and climbing on me.
We haven't been on a fun adult trip since... Well, it's been a few years. I don't think we had any fun trips at all while I was pregnant, as I felt like slug slime the entire time, and we haven't really gone anywhere without the baby girl since. I'm totally comfortable leaving her with my mom, who is stoked about it.
Ahhh. Vacation. I can't wait.