Tickets to ride

picture by flickr user pascalg_1991

The countdown is now for real--only 2.5 days to go until Blog Camp 2.0.

"Blog what?!"

"What kind of camp?!"

Yes, I hear you. Here's the explanation: it's five bloggers meeting in real life in Denmark with the aim of taking cool pictures (and learning to take even better ones--right, Spud?); drinking lots of wine; talking even more (as Anna said, we seem to be a chatty bunch); blogging, maybe; and generally having fun. No bonfires, no girl scout stuff and no tents (yay!) but still, hopefully, lots of camp-like camaraderie.

So, I'm about to spend three days with four women I have never seen, except on pictures. I think I know a fair bit about them but you can never be sure. Suppose they turn out to be sociopathic serial murderers? There was an axe featuring prominently during Blog Camp 1.0 and a threatening knife. But I'm trying to be reasonable--bloggers have been known to attend blog camp AND come back alive to tell the tale so I am just going to assume there will be no involuntary contact between the mentioned axe and my neck.

Which will allow me to get excited about the fact that, in two days, I am going to travel somewhere by myself. No kids, no husband--just me. Even if that means waking up in the ungodly hour of 3:45.

There was a time when Boris was small, Andrej wasn't yet born and I was working, when I did everything possible to avoid travel because I couldn't bear being away from Boris. Those rare trips that I had to make were filled with guilt and anxiety. I knew Boris was in the best care possible but I was still very uncomfortable being away.

Well, that's changed. I don't know when or how, but possibly as a result of having to stay at home for extended periods of time with kids while Ruslan globe-trotted in his job. I suppose the long hours spent entertaining a small child and a toddler taught me to appreciate an opportunity to get away (especially when it doesn't come by so often).

I am now off to choose my flight reading, pack the prezzies (if I remember where I put the wrapping paper? or when was the last time I used it?), make some more lists, and if, in all excitement, I don't forget to pick up the kids from kindergarten on time, I'll just go on feeling smug (tickets firmly in hand).