I think the late John Denver says it best, “I’m leavin’ on a jet plane…” For the last few days, that’s what I have sung to myself when I could not push myself any more. Tomorrow at this time (it’s Saturday evening, but the blog will not be posted until Monday a.m.), Sydney and Jovie and I, will just be passing though Mysore, (click here for a map of Ooty, Mysore, and Bangalore) halfway into our car journey to the Bangalore Airport. Beautiful. Our driver’s name is Rajesh, just in case you were wondering. I really like drivers. The driving company we use, the boss is named, Guru. Awesome. If you are a boss, I dare you to try to have your employees call you Guru. Anyway, other than Jayson, or my parents when I was younger, I’ve never had anyone really drive me someplace. I think it’s a great way to go. We do it whenever we travel outside of Ooty. To rent a car (our car/van/can would fail miserably in the journey to Bangalore) and hire a driver for an eight hour ride, it’s around 65 US Dollars. Pretty sweet, eh?
Goodbye's as Tarrah, Sydney, and Jovie head out. (You may want to click on this photo just to see Ani's face up close.)
At the moment though, I am feeling a bit like a pile of rubbish. My tummy sounds, like, oh, what does it remind me of, hold on, it’ll come to me, good grief its taking me awhile, it’s from a scene in a movie. Wait, got it. It’s like in Cheaper by the Dozen 2 when Steve Martin is in the bouncy castle at his neighbor boy’s party chasing one of his twelve kids and it starts to overfill and he yells, “Look out. She’s gonna blow!”, and sure enough, it launches him across the yard into the party cake. Whew, it took a lot out of me to think of that. So, I do look forward to see what the next two days of travel look like for the girls and me. I am sure glamorous and so much to envy. My friend Wendy said that there are supposed to be attendants on airlines that are the designated baby helpers. Say what? I have never heard or seen such a thing. I am sure it is an urban myth. Jovie turns two on August 7 (two days before we fly back), so we just barely made the cut for her to sit in my lap and not pay for a seat. Which, I am sure, will make for some really special moments between her and me. Please note the irony in my words. If you want to, you can play a game with me and then post it on the blog. Here’s the game, “At what hour of my two day travel with the girls did I want to check myself into the nearest insane asylum”? It will be fun to play, come on, I know you want to. All I have to say is this, “Mom and Dad, you are the proverbial finish line, be ready for me to pass the two, darling, precious ‘batons’ on to you… Oh, and a tall, iced, hazelnut latte please.”
Okay, on to other news, Jayson went on a motorcycle trip with his friend Glen Parks on Tuesday. The trip did have the purpose of seeing two specialists for some ailments. (Parents, do not alarm yourself, truly it’s nothing to worry yourself about.) Ooty does have generalists when it comes to medicine, but anything specialized you need to head three hours down the mountain to Coimbatore. So, Jayson and Glen headed out at 6:30 a.m., and got back around 10:00 p.m. Seven hours of that on a motorcycle. He was a bit shattered when he got back. All good news from the doctors, but his body was done. I, the good wife, made great fun of him. He was altogether ridiculous.
Photos from the bike trip to Coimbatore.
We had another graduation from Roja this week. Maya. It was a stressful week for the aftercare staff, because Maya was making plans to go home. Which sometimes is not a bad thing for the girls, but for Maya it is. More than likely, Maya’s family, were the ones who trafficked her in the first place. So, all week long, she said she wanted to go home and not come back. But the night before she was to leave, she told the staff that she promised to come back after her visit home. We pray for strength, determination to come back, good choices, and safety.
Well people, as you all know, I am completely ecstatic about going back to the States for a visit. I’m having some strange emotions about it all though. Similar to going to a high school reunion (which I have never been to, if that tells you anything about me), I think. I am sure I will have moments of complete hyperventilation, hysteric laughter, and rivers of tears. But hey, I am going to pull up my big girl pants, face raw emotion, and go to Starbucks whenever possible. The next post will be from my parent’s living room - WOO HOO!