So we're going to Ojai to visit my in-laws tomorrow.
I am, in many ways, quite delighted to be going. My inlaws are great (parents, bros and sisters) and it's been forever since we've been able to see them. Ojai is great, and we're taking a car, so we'll be able to get out a bit. The weather should be nice. And Dyami has six days off of work.
So why am I not exactly looking forward to the trip?
I think it's the vestiges of the last trip, where we had a fabulous time with Dyami's family, I slept very little, got a cold, Dyami got sick, Lucy got sick, and then we didn't sleep for the next month. I was just the tiniest bit unhappy for a long while.
Right now Lucy isn't sleeping that great (I think it's because we're transitioning her to a mattress instead of her hammock bed) and so the palpitations have started.
Breathe, Heather, breathe.
Most of me knows that Lucy is a completely different animal than she was at three months, that I know much better how to deal with her ups and downs, and am more resilient. Plus it's not winter, so the chances of everyone being sick are much lower.
But who ever said anxiety was defeated by head knowledge?
I have been asking people to pray for me. I don't want to have a nervous breakdown the first night (like I did last time) and subject my husband to my anxieties. I would just like to enjoy being there, like I used to. I would like to be more relaxed, in general.
I would also like to be a bestselling novellist. Or short-story writer.
One can pray, right?