I confessed some wanderlust a few weeks ago, though “some” is a bit of an understatement. See, parents get paralyzed a bit in the beginning — in the early days, just getting a cup of coffee in the morning is kind of a triumph — thus even when the kid hits a half year old (which once-Wee Jacob did this week, sniffle) and you’ve got a good routine down, you still know you’re not ready to pack everything the three of you will need for one week into suitcases and then willingly relocate to a 180 square foot stateroom for a so-called vacation.
But we’re doing it anyway and I cannot wait. The prospect of “whee! vacation!” is officially less terrifying than the number of diapers, burp cloths, types of infant first aid, teething rings and onesies we are packing into suitcases, thus, it is now or never: we’re getting on a boat. And guess who is coming with us?