This is when I start to panic. I start to think of all the possibilities of what could happen while we’re 229 miles away (yes, I looked it up). I have the usual concerns – What if Jack gets sick? What if the dogs get lost? What if the G-tube falls out? And, this year I have the added anxiety of leaving our high school daughter with limited monitoring. Anna’s a great girl, but I’m always waiting for her to turn into the rotten teenager of my past.

We’re heading to Massachusetts for a visit with old friends. Dan and I are lucky to share an incredible pile of friends from college. A pile that manages to find any excuse to get together and pretend that we’re still eighteen (with better wine and tougher mornings). When Jack first got sick, I never imagined that we’d manage to keep up our mini-reunions, but early on we decided that time away with old friends was a necessity.

Our friends have always been a big part of our lives and for the last seven years they’ve been a big part of our survival – duct tape. Being with old friends and escaping reality with my husband a few times a year is priceless. This crew let’s us just be Jesse and Dan, alleviating us from being ALD parents. And, being away reminds us that other people can be in charge without the world imploding. We’re not the only people who can bathe and medicate Jack and gently remind Anna to put her phone away. We may come home exhausted on Sunday, but we’ll be refreshed.

So it’s all great. Dan and I are getting time with each other and old friends; the kids are getting time with each other and Maria (Jack’s sitter, my savior, and an amazing cook). So why am I spending nights awake thinking of all the things that could go wrong? Why is going away so stressful, even when I know that the kids will survive and Dan and I will have a ball? Maybe it’s just a mom thing.

Dan doesn’t share my crazy panic. He’ll wake up Friday, throw some clothes into his weekend bag, give the kids a smooch, and hop in the car. Meanwhile, I’ll make Dan turn the car around twice before we reach the highway to double check my three page list of instructions. We will be in Connecticut before I can breathe. And, I will call so often this weekend that Anna will start to answer with, “Mom. Are you kidding me?”.

I’m here at my desk working on my “list” and making sure I haven’t forgotten anything critical. My bag is already packed and in the mudroom and Jack’s medication is drawn and labeled for the next week (What if something happens and we can’t make it home by Sunday?).

If the world doesn’t collapse, Dan and I are heading out Friday morning. If you see the kids around town this weekend, give them a hug AND if you see me post any pictures on Facebook, please send me a text with a gentle reminder to put MY phone away.

Love, Jess