That one day I went to France and back in just a few hours...

There's something fun about starting a blog post with a confession of sorts, so here's this one: When I dream, I dream big and plan it out as though it's coming true.
Back in September, we found a house that was a crazy-good deal. Unfortunately, someone else found it a few days before we did. Since the buyer was going to flip the house and re-sell, we tried to negotiate a waiting period with her to sell our current house and offered to buy the new house at a significant profit to her. It still would have been a great deal. To us, I guess. She didn't bite. But I had a week in between all of that to dream about living there. I had a word document about three pages long listing what I'd do to each room, what color I'd paint it, etc. I chose light fixtures off the internet and dropped photos in the document. I prioritized which projects would need to be done first, and which ones could wait a while. I called the city about getting a demolition permit for the pool in the backyard. I priced out trash pick-up. I looked at sofas for the new family game room and picked out bunk beds for Shepard's new larger room. I estimated expenses. Jerod warned me not to get too attached. But that's my style. I like to plan things. I like to dream really big. And then I like to see how many brass tacks it's going to take to make it happen. Sometimes with a spreadsheet.
So, last week after posting about going to France, I had a good friend text me and ask me if I wanted to meet up with her there. She was already going to be in Europe. I jokingly replied, "Sure. I'm free this weekend."
But then she said she was serious and called. Thus began the ball rolling for me. There was about half of the money readily available. I'd just have to gather a few hundred more to make it happen. I checked on tickets, cross-checked, and checked again from different nearby cities. I looked up the hotel I've stayed at a few times in Paris. It's quaint and tucked in to the Latin Quarter, just a few blocks from Notre Dame Cathedral, the Shakespeare Book Company and Rue de la Huechette--a cobblestone street with lots of restaurants and a fantastic creperie. Good prices on the hotel! Airplane tickets were expensive, but if we ate bread and cheese from the grocery store and watched our euros, we might just pull it off! I researched the bus times and fare costs to get to Mont St. Michel from Paris, as any good trip to France should include that. I thought about how to brush up on my rusty French. On the way home for lunch, I even tried to remember French words for the objects I saw along the way, "La voiture, le petrol, le diner, les frites..."
My heart fluttered and my stomach filled with LES PAPILLONS! (butterflies) This was happening!
I just needed to clear it with Jerod.  :) I mean, this morning when he left for work, it was a regular Friday. And now...his better half (sa femme) might get to go to FRANCE! In my mind, I was strolling the streets of Paris, soaking in the architecture, stopping at a local patisserie for a pain au chocolat. Sipping on an espresso, scarf around my neck, beret on my head, baguette sticking out of my stylish black leather pack...all with a dear amie. It was a beautiful dream.
I married Jerod for many reasons, one of them was to ground me. Sometimes it's fun. Heck, who am I kidding? It's usually not fun, but it is usually necessary. So when he called me on his way home from school, he thought he'd get the usual Friday query of "Saki, pizza or Thai carryout?" Poor thing was definitely not ready for "I'm thinking seriously of going to France next month!!!!!!"
In hindsight, I might have improved my approach. After seven years of marriage, I know that big decisions are actually big decisions for him. I don't spend nearly as long in the decision-making phase--I'm in or I'm out, usually within a hour or so of considering something. I'm just decisive, and I don't labor over every little thing. I do my research, then I pounce.
In his defense, Jerod said I could go. But as I continued to consider my goals for 2012--more family fun and small trips and continuing to look for a new abode--I realized that my France trip would need to be on hold. It's not that I would regret having gone or booking the tickets, but I'm trying to live with my own mission statement: Did God call me to do it? and Is it good for my boys? Those are my filters right now.
I really enjoyed my mental vacation. One day, perhaps...a little bon voyage. For now, I'll get my pain au chocolat from Earthfare and stalk the French exchange students on campus to hear them speak the language of love. And I'll hug my boys and speak the language of love right here.

I do not endorse toddler smoking.