Porque yo no hablo French.
C is off on her trip to France via Frankfurt. The kid's flying Lufthansa... which makes her feel all shi shi poo poo fwa fwa.
You wanna know the funny part? I'm not freaking out. No question, I'm going to miss my Downton Abbey/Top Chef/Project Runway viewing partner (we do other things together... we really do, but after a long swim practice, our best "togetherness" tends to happen sacked out on the couch these days). Fortunately, D.A. and T.C. both had their season finales before she left so I think I'll survive :)
I'm sure things will go wrong. I'm positive someone will annoy/piss off/generally irritate her along the way but lately, more than probably anytime since roughly... birth, I feel like she's ready, willing, and able to take on the challenge. I think we're seeing the light at the end of I'mpullingoutmyhairbecausemyteenagedaughterispsycho tunnel and now I'm left with the reality that now I have to get my shit together, too.
It really is a whole lot easier to concern myself with others' problems than my own. Too bad I didn't realize that in time to become a shrink and profit off of my own mania...
But... back to France :) She's got quite the whirlwind tour planned, and while she's sleeping (oh god, please let her sleep!) on the plane, I'll be getting a drink with my friend Julie because I can only be expected to stay sane until sundown knowing that my first baby is thousands of miles away.
Au revoir!
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