Gone Daddy Gone

I hate this part.  I am not good at goodbyes or being alone, and certainly not when being alone means taking care of the girls for a week while Didier is on a business trip in Chicago, in the United States of America!  He left at 4:30 am, before even I could know he was gone.  (We were, of course, up just an hour later.)  After my shower last night, I said good night and goodbye and went to sleep in the girls' room.  I figured he had to get up so early and take care of the business of leaving that I should just let him have the time to himself to peacefully prepare for his departure. 


Now I mightn't need to remind you that I am now in Barbados alone for a week with two little girls, one of whom has to get to and from school and I feel insecure driving, but maybe I should.  I tried, I swear I did, to get myself prepared to do this alone.  I hate being bad at something, but hate even worse the fear of putting my children in danger.  Friends to the rescue.  Two friends have agreed to, if nothing else, help me get Lily to and from school every day.  I have told them to feel no other obligation to me during the week to entertain me or keep me busy.  I do still have the one year old at home and a big house to take care of.  I am so grateful.

After a morning play date and Virginie's two hour nap time, during which I painted Lily's nails and watched her write 3's and 5's and her friend Zach's name, we did a tour in the garden and a Lady Gaga dance party.  Back in the day I was a pretty good dancer but Lily has informed me this afternoon that she was forced to stop the dance party because I was going too slowly, "like a turtle or even a snail."  What can you do?


The true test comes tonight when all the evening's activities are done and everyone has been fed and bathed and tucked in and I find myself alone on the couch, the sole provider and protector for the week.  If I am able to sleep a wink then I have been successful.  We'll see.

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