If there has been no mention of Eric here this past little while, that may be because we hardly ever see the man. He leaves by 7:00 am, teaches 5th graders, comes home for a super quick lunch, goes to the University to work his other job, comes home just before 8:00, eats dinner, helps put Anna to sleep, then back to the computer to do prep for next day's teaching and answer leftover emails and phone calls, usually until around midnight. Repeat. And then throw in huge conferences he's put together on Chinese literacy, Beijing Publishing Press visits, and running teacher trainings, all of which stretch over both days of the weekend. We've been hanging on to the far away glimmer of Spring Break all winter--one glorious 7 day stretch over which we vowed to pack our bags and camp the whole week, talking to no one but each other.
But he just got the news that he's going to Beijing instead. (cue the sad trombone)
Better news: My parents are the wonderful parents they always have been. They offered to take Anna for a couple nights so we could squeeze in a mini spring break this weekend.
We love Anna dearly (obviously), and we have been known to turn down grandparents' kind offers to tend. We like being with her, and we've made it so far doing most anything we want to do the three of us. But, with the exception of a few moments of genuine missing, and a lot of Anna quotes said in Anna voices, the weekend without her was much needed and wonderful, and we were so thankful we were all where we were.
We ran, hiked, backpacked, sat, read, slept. There is something, maybe it's the vast nothing, in the desert that is at once humbling and soothing to my little soul. The silence and exposed, the colors and the knowledge you are being watched, that you don't really belong here but have been given a few days to soak up as much as you can of this dry place.
Confession: we(I) forgot forks. We used sticks.
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