Letter from Maui

Dear Em,

I know my post for today was supposed to be some recipes, but I didn't get it written before getting on the plane, and now, it just doesn't feel timely or authentic.

I'd rather talk about where I am, what I'm doing, what I'm feeling RIGHT NOW.

I'd rather talk about how refreshing it is to be on an extended date with my husband. Lying on the beach, listening to the undulating tide, watching sand crabs, and talking about how many children we want to have. I'd rather write about the magic of swimming with sea turtles and kissing awkwardly with our snorkel masks on. I'd rather talk about walking along the beach at dusk, and looking back at our pair of footprints, and thinking of how lucky I am that those footprints will go on for eternity. Or how fun and teenager-ish it feels to have my darling grab my hand as we walk from car to hotel, from shop to shop, from the ocean to the pool...everywhere we go. (We haven't held hands this much since high school!)

And when I told this all to our dear friends who read Bloom, I would say--do it! I know everyone isn't so lucky to have a husband who happens to have business at the Grand Wailea or family who can watch their children for a whole week! But everyone can find a way to get away for a day or two. And it's amazing. It reminds you how much you love each other. It gives you opportunities to talk over dinner (instead of wiping up messes and negotiating with children about how many more bites they have to take!). It provides quiet, uninterupted moments for intimacy. After a few weeks of business trips and tons of work and barely seeing eachother, it has given me time to look at my husband and think--gosh, he is a handsome devil.

Of course, every small child we saw in the airport made us swoon, and seeing kids on the beach makes us dream of the day we can afford to bring the whole family on a trip like this. Over our curry dinner last night we talked mostly about our boys. They are never far from our thoughts. But, in the mean time, we are reveling in every breath of this trip. The plumeria trees, the breeze, the drinks by the pool, the laughter, and the (nearly) complete lack of stress or responsibility. And, even though we miss our children, we know we will return refreshed and refueled--full of patience and love and ready to be a better (and hopefully tanner) version of Mom and Dad.

I think everyone needs a getaway like this from time to time. Don't you? Anyway, that's what I'd rather write about today.

See you soon.

Love,

Anne