I don't know what triggered it exactly.
Was it thinking about whether or not to take the kids to the orphanage in Mexico for a weekend in December?
Was it thinking about what the Boy will do if he wakes up wet? Do they have a shower nearby?
Was it wondering about the Baby, and how she loves routine, loves her bed, loves knowing where everything is and how things work in our house? Would she nap at all in a strange new place?
Would she cling to me?
Is there any point in going if all I'm going to do is hold a clingy baby?
Or was it when I realized that these kinds of things are going to be their life for the next several months? Big transitions, the interruption of routine. Strange face and languages. Strange beds strange food.
How will they do?
How will I do?
I worry about them.
Tears press at the back of my eyes today and I fight to hold them back.
It is raw.
I know it will be alright in the end, that kids are adaptable. I believe it will all be worth it. I believe they will adjust and be stronger for it.
But today it is raw nonetheless.