Where There's a Will There's a Way
We’re abandoning our children. For three days in April, Husband and I will be basking in the um… rock-like glow of the Rocky Mountains. Actually, I’ll be in a conference all day, partially as a presenter sharing my oh-so-fascinating expertise on absolutely nothing. Husband can enjoy hours and hours of free-free-expensive-freedom all day long until I come “home” to the hotel room, where I’ll likely just want room service and cable TV. The kids will be at home with their Grandma, and I have high hopes that by the end of the three days, Grandma will finally learn how to say “no.” But I’m probably fooling myself.

All of this leaving-the-kids business has led me to decide that the time has come to get our crap together and write some type of will or guardianship trust or whatnot. Ugh. I hate thinking about that, but the more time I spend reading random blogs o’ tragedy, the more firmly I understand that shit happens. And there’s absolutely no reason it can’t happen to me.

It's hard to decide, both because it's a great, great burden and because trying to balance the needs of the children and the needs of their grandparents and what we want for their lives. Luckily, the deal includes 21 years of my diaries. Who wouldn't raise two kids for someone else in exchange for the chance to read a very graphic description of my first period? Hello? Awesome, right? Wait - where are you going? I'm not done talking! Hello?