It was not easy. We had been planning this for months, and had in fact discussed with Willow, as much as a not-quite-two-year-old can comprehend this kind of thing. And everybody was nervous, including my parents, because while we see them as often as we possibly can, that still means that months and months and months go by without any face time, making it difficult for them to a) understand Willow when she talks, and b) know all her routines and foibles. I typed up a detailed schedule, and hoped for the best.
But as prepared as I thought I was, and as much as I thought about it beforehand, I didn't quite anticipate how hard it would be to walk out the door, knowing that she would wake up not knowing where I was, and knowing that I hadn't said goodbye.
This was me on the two-hour drive to Kona, where we had booked a hotel for the night: "Do you think she's awake yet? Do you think she's going to be okay? I think it'll be good for her. It's important. You know, to create a little distance, so she doesn't need me with her all the time. I hope she has a nice long nap. They'll let me know when she wakes up, right?"
They did, in fact let me know when she woke up. At 2:45 pm, I received the following: "Drinking tea with Grandpa."
And at 3:00 pm, we were informed that she said: "Make scrambled eggs, just like daddy."*
At 3:30 pm, we arrived at the hotel, at which point Dave ordered me a pina colada and told me to put away the phone.
At 4:15, Willow was introduced to the family tradition of singing Walk Like A Man. She skipped the drinking a lot of whiskey part. I think.
At 5:30, she was introduced to the family tradition of suffering through my father's rendition of The Owl and The Pussy-Cat.
At 6:00 Dave and I went to dinner. The waiter asked me to put away my phone.
At 8:30 I wrote demanding to know how bedtime had been.
And then at 9:00 Dave and I fell asleep.
Not bad for a first time away, I'd say.
*Highly truncated text message list. Actual text message receipt totaled something near 25.