Change on the Horizon and Settling into a New Normal

Dropping off the girls for their first day of preschool was hard. While, in theory, they had been asking to go to school for months (something about school busses, of which there are zero here ... *that* was not fun news to break), when push came to shove and they realized they would not be by my side for an entire three hours, they were less keen. I, however, was keen so after I peeled all three girls off of me (with the help of several teachers), I kissed them all and did the brisk walk off the premises. Did I cry? Nope. Maybe that sounds odd (because I know lots of moms who do), but I didn't and I really believe this little break three times a week will do the world of good for all of us. I was told it took them exactly four seconds to calm down, stop crying and they had a great day. Already, the girls have made a few more friends, talk excitedly about their day's there, and I've expanded my community of great island moms. Did I mention how lovely it is to spend 2-3 hours alone a few times a week? It might not seem like much, but to me, it's the equivalent to a five day stay at Fijian all inclusive. That is how rejuvenated I feel. Breaks are good. So is not having three (adorable and lovable) toddlers nipping at your heals at all hours. That s*** can really grate at your nerves.

Them waddling down the docks together in their backpacks will forever be etched in my memory as one of the cutest images ever.

They will attend their little school three times a week. Despite our 6/6:30 am wake-up time, getting all three of them out the door by 9am is a struggle. Come to think of it, a whole lot of my life with our three girls feels very much like herding cats. It's infinitely worse now that the twins have very distinct opinions on what to wear, eat and - in general - how and when to do things. Oh, toddlerhood. It's the best of times and the worst of times all rolled into one. On the one hand, it's my most favorite stage ever because they are so cute and chatty and funny and adorable. On the other hand, we have the tantrums, meltdowns, and general lack of impulse control. It's full-on. One moment we're hunky dory, the next it sounds like I'm pulling our their fingernails one by one down here. Thank god we have great neighbors who either pretend not to care or have a lot of empathy. I get a lot of gently delivered, "You're doing a great job, mom" comments from friends around us. That's when I know they heard me lose my s***. Good stuff.

So, school... the girls are still not at the point where they run up to the gate excitedly, but I think we're getting there. It's only been four days....Mira is pretty much a Cat 5 clinger during each drop off which is hard, but she is our most sensitive and cuddly one so it was expected. Haven, of course, is the least effected and while she does shed a tear or two, it's manageable and all I need to do is offer an after school treat as a bribe and she's good. Isla, for the most part, loves it and her new friends. Hearing all the kids excitedly say, "Bye Isla" in unison when she leaves is the cutest thing ever. I feel 100% good about this decision and I'm told it will get easier and easier.

What else, what else, what else...? (Scratches chin) OH YEAH. We bought a new boat.

Yep. 

We bought a new boat. (contains excited squeal of utter glee).

We are now the proud owners of a bee-you-tee-ful three cabin Tayana 48. I have a whole post on the how's and why's and what's, but this boat is a huge development and I honestly think it's going to change our life. I realize how ridiculous and dramatic that sounds but it's true. A family of five in a two "bedroom" boat is tight to say the least and while there are many families out there would would make it work and thrive in such an arrangement, that is not us. We always knew a bigger boat was in our future so when I found s/v Legato online and the stars aligned that we could check her out, we moved and we moved fast. Anyway...more on that later but you have no idea how excited we are about this change. It's like a million Christmas Eve's (before you found out the truth about Santa) rolled into one. If you are interested in checking out pics (aka "boat porn") check out our >>>Facebook Page<<<.

As such, this boat will be for sale shortly. If you know any one in the market for a very well equipped Brewer 44 sitting pretty smack-dab in the middle of the beautiful Caribbean, send them our way. We've already got a bunch of inquiries so that is fantastic, but the more word that gets out the better. We don't want to own two cruising boats for too long, that's for damn sure. I'm working on a proper listing but for now, here's some info about our boat: >>>>OUR BOAT FOR SALE<<<<. We will probably be listing with a broker soon so if you want to strike while the iron is hot and keep the middle man out, now's the time.

Scott is as busy as ever on >>>our biz<<<. Owning a (very busy!) business is incredible and wonderful, but it's a crap ton of work and - SHOCKER - it literally never stops when you are the owner. Scott has been pulling eighteen hour days and works seven days a week. The poor guy rarely gets a break and yet never complains. He's working very hard on a better "work-life balance" for both our family and the folks we employ - so he's getting systems in place to streamline things and make sure we can all play hard after we work hard. It's all about balance, right? Easier said than done but that is the goal.

We are settling in for a wild and crazy ride the next couple of months as the season gets into full swing and our new boat gets delivered (early to mid December). Merry Christmas to us! I will keep you posted.

Halloween, Island Style! While we did not get to go trick or treating door to door (not really feasible here) - the girls attended THREE incredible Halloween parties with their school and friends. They had a blast!

This post was brought to you by preschool.

Back to the Boat, Back on Island Time: On Adaptation and Change

It never ceases to amaze me just how adaptable children are. After two months back in the US at my mom's house, I was certain we'd have a little "adjustment" period back at the boat. The girls, after all, are getting bigger, older, and can most certainly grasp the difference between a boat and a house, not to mention the concept of personal space. They loved being back at Grandma's. They have friends back there, we fell into a nice little routine, and - most concerning for me - they became pretty accustomed to life in a three bedroom ranch. They played tag every morning, hid under beds and behind drapery...they enjoyed their own rooms and had plenty of drawers each for their clothes (on the boat they have the equivalent of one small drawer each and only the twins have their own dedicated 'room'). They played in the back yard on the tire swing, pushed baby doll strollers down hallways, and rode bikes and trikes a plenty...Bringing them back to the boat meant a lot of this stuff was going to come to an abrupt halt.

So you can imagine my surprise when, after over a week of being back, I have yet to hear of a single complaint about anything we left back home (minus grandma, of course). I haven't heard any lamentations over the lack of a backyard or whining that they miss the library, nor have the girls put in requests for anything that I thought they might miss - from food to toys - from their time up north. They haven't even asked for television (which was something we admittedly watched significantly more of back in the house). I was, at the very least, prepared for a few sleepless nights as they re-acclimated with their old beds, but, no. In fact, they fell back into napping and night sleeping better than they did these last two months on land! I have to say I was shocked. Each time we have a transition like this I brace myself for a fallout, for tantrums and wonky adjustment periods - and yet - they never happen.  It's incredible and once again our girls show me that mama needs to take a chill pill. "I have no idea why this still surprises me" I told my mom on the phone the other day. "They just fall back into step." To which she replied with her motherly wisdom, "Kids are very adaptable."

And they are. And it's pretty amazing.

***

The days leading up to our departure were super busy on both ends; I was busy packing up and prepping for the flights (remember, I prepare for these things like a ninja!), Scott was up to his eyeballs in work while simultaneously launching and readying Asante for our return (she was on the hard the last three months). I'm glossing over a ton of details but suffice it to say we were frenetic on both ends. The girls and I enjoyed an uneventful day of travel and landed on Tortola just as the sun was beginning to set and the tree frogs start singing their nightly tunes. Our favorite taxi driver, Larry, picked us up with a big smile and huge hugs, and soon we were en-route back to the boat.

The girls were *so* excited to be back. The boat was a flurry of energy; snuggles with daddy, finding "new" toys, running amok (as children who have been cooped up in planes for a whole day are wont to do) and preparing dinner. Meanwhile, I unpacked all our bags.

The next morning we went out to breakfast with daddy and - oh my gosh! - the girls were greeted with so many hugs and fist bumps and smiles from every direction. "Who are you people and where were you?" one fellow breakfast patron asked with a laugh, "I've never seen so many people so excited to see four girls!" It gave us the warm fuzzies to know we were missed since, truth be told, sometimes I think the presence of three very active, loud and exuberant toddlers might cramp our marina's style. It's hard to keep a low profile around here with our crew. Not everyone loves little children and I can respect that - but according to the various workers, wait staff and crew members around us who repeatedly told the girls, "Nanny Cay just wasn't the same without you!" we were missed. And I believe wholeheartedly that Nanny Cay wasn't the same, if for no other reason than it was a lot more quiet!

***

Being back has been amazing and totally rejuvenating. And, okay, it's not all been smooth sailing; my car got a flat on the first day I drove it and I also discovered I can no longer get out of the driver's side door without rolling down the window and opening it from the outside (#islandcars). Other than those minor nuisances, life is good. Scott is busier than ever at the moment, we are down pretty much all our captains this month so he is pulling double duty and burning the midnight oil every night to stay on top of everything. I am so incredibly proud of him and how he's managing because it is not easy. Meanwhile, the girls and I have fallen right back into swing. We have our little routine of breakfast on the boat followed by some morning outing/activity/playdate, then lunch and nap time around noon, then our afternoon outing/activity/playdate followed by dinner, bath and bedtime between 7 and 7:30pm. Of course there are variations and special occasions, but that's the gist of it. Lots of fresh air, playtime with other children, and glorious sunshine. The pool and beach are regulars in our days and then there's the beach bar, which in the afternoon is a hub of activity and where I can let the girls run free with their little friends to climb trees, swing from ropes, build with the beach jenga blocks or hold scooter races. It's simple, no fluff, fun. And mommy can have her afternoon spritzer or two (wink).

Speaking of scooters, our Micro Scooters have now become the preferred method of travel for the girls. These days, instead of me pushing a double stroller to and fro most of the time, you will find our little gang ripping around the marina like little skater girls. It's pretty hilarious to watch because they are so small and so fast, that it's rare for anyone who passes not to smile or giggle because they look so damn cute all in a row squealing and laughing. Yet another reminder of how fast time flies and how with every month a new milestone is reached when kids are little. There is no way I would have trusted them to fly around here a few months ago, but now - it's how they roll and they love the independence. Of course they are wearing their life jackets while doing so - they get ahead of me so quickly now and the threat of falling in is more imminent - the life jackets put my mind and heart at ease. "If they fall in, they'll float" I tell onlookers. Bumps, bruises and scrapes don't phase me. In fact I encourage those things with our girls. But water safety is no joke. Even though the girls know our "rules" and have excellent control over their rides, it's better to be safe than sorry. That PSA aside...we love our "scooter boards" (as Mira likes to call them, oh yeah - the twins are full on talking now!) and if you are looking for a great scooter for your child, you seriously need to check Micro Scooters out.

***

So that is where we are at. It's been a pretty great re-entry to boat life and we have been welcomed back to our adopted island with open arms. Life is simple and we are happy. The fact that our girls have made this transition easy makes me very proud of them and I sure hope that this flexibility continues into adulthood for them (it's a trait that doesn't come as naturally to their mother *coughcough*). Change is not always easy and rarely is it effortless, but it is good. And adaptability is what can make it great. Being back on island, back to our floating home? It's exactly what we needed.

Now...how they will handle pre-school three half-days out of the week? That adjustment might prove a little more difficult, for all of us!

Tiny space? No big deal to these kids. In fact, I think they prefer close quarters!

Always a great option for a morning activity

Scooter races are the afternoon activity of choice on many days

This is what I call the "Meyers Mimosa" - soda water and orange juice. 

Swinging from trees is always fun!

We spend a lot of time crafting and coloring as well, but these mess free Water Wow's are my fave!

"How old is that little girl?" is a question I get all the time about our fearless little Haven.

This is our backyard. I mean...what a view to take in every day. I love it.

Back to the baby pool bath on the aft deck - and we've now discovered that Joy dish soap makes the BEST bubbles. Score!

Beaching it in our SwimZip Swimwear SPF rash guards. Love our little beach babies.

Good bye sun, thanks for a great day! So happy to be able to catch the sunset every night again.

Packing for a Family of Five? Our List

I love a good list. There was a time in my life where this sort of rigid organization was not necessary to move from A to B, but having kids threw all that out the window. Maybe unicorns exist and there are families with multiple children who do not need preparation of this magnitude in order to travel, but for us - this is the only way to maintain order - and sanity - during what can be a pretty stressful and hectic time: the pre-departure panic.

We decided to make sure we were fully packed two days before we left (this is the "packing dry run" I made reference to in my earlier post). If you are traveling with kids...heck, if you are traveling at all... I highly recommend this system. It allows you to pack, assess, weigh (all bags under 50 lbs), revise, repack and make sure you are a) maximizing luggage space and b) covering all of your bases. If you look at the list, you'll see we are almost all packed up - minus the few items that we need on a daily or nightly basis.  This means that tonight we can make merry at our family farewell dinner and tomorrow night we can kick back with a bottle of wine and a movie if we want. We are pretty much "okay to go". Siiigh.

I posted this list to our Facebook Page last night and I had to laugh at some of the responses. You don't miss a beat and really know how to make me laugh out loud (have I mentioned lately how much I love you guys?):

Minus the fact that Scott and I lay awake each night giggling like school kids and exclaiming, "Holy crap. This is happening. Are we insane?!" followed by pressure-releasing squeals into our pillows, stress is at a minimum. We're excited. We're ready. What cracks us up even more is that our kids, minus Isla of course, are completely oblivious to the gigantic change that is about to take place. It's all business as usual for them and as long as they have mommy and daddy, they're gonna be cool. We're just going to pick them up and move them to Tortola where they will simply carry on as normal. There is something profound in this but I can't put my finger on it. Kids, I tell you. We can learn a lot from 'em.

Now that the preparation frenzy has simmered down and we find ourselves with some time to think thoughts outside of those related to all things packing, we're beginning to feel the first pangs of pre-departure sadness. We have been here for over a year, we have created a lifetime of memories and have been surrounded by incredible friends and family.We are very blessed and we are hyper aware of - and grateful for - this fact. I am, by nature, a nostalgic person which means I am terrible at goodbyes. I hate leaving. I am emotional and get choked up by sentimental songs and Hallmark commercials. My best friend utters the words, "I'm really, really gonna miss you" and I burst into tears like a baby. I wish I was more stoic, but that card was left out of my deck I'm afraid. 

Despite the choked-back tears and the millions of unknowns that lie ahead, we know we are making the right move. If we didn't go we would regret it, and - really - that is the only fuel we need in order to move forward. 

“Perhaps that is where our choice lies -- in determining how we will meet the inevitable end of things, and how we will greet each new beginning.” ― Elana K. Arnold, Burning

This. Is. Happening. 

Bring it.

A New Horizon: Thoughts on Change

So here we are.

Scott went off to work last week for the next five weeks - his last rotation with Island Windjammers for the foreseeable future (the door to return remains open) - and Isla and I are on the boat, prepping her for our impending departure, a date that is hurtling towards us despite my attempts to ignore it.

We leave on Friday.

We fly back home to Chicago and leave the tropics, our boat, our home for the next fifteen to twenty months, give or take.  That's right.  We're moving back to land.  We're going to become C.L.O.D's (cruisers living on dirt, though I really hate that acronym).  And oh yeah, and I'm going to give birth to twins in the next couple of months.  Our lives are about to do a major, major about face.

Ironically, it's the whole 'moving back to land' thing that's the biggest pill to swallow for me and I have been procrastinating writing about it because writing about it makes it real.  I don't want it to be real.  Don't get me wrong, I know that this is what we have to do and I know that this is what is best for our family right now.  I am excited to spend the holidays with loved ones, I am happy that I am going home to my amazing friends and I am beyond grateful to be welcomed with open arms into a home that is full of happiness, laughter, support and love.  Wonderful, amazing things are in store for us, and I should be counting my blessings that we have so much to look forward to and be thankful for all the options that are before us, but I just can't shake this feeling of melancholy that sits like a pit in my tummy.  I can't seem to get excited about moving back to land, even with all the benefits that doing so entails.  Each day I pack up more and more of our boat, I get a little more sad.  You see, I don't want things to change.  I am really, really sad to end this chapter.

I know, I know...Change is part of life.  Change is good and necessary for growth... But despite being a person who's life has more or less been defined by coming and going and living pretty unconventionally, I have never been one to take unplanned life changes in stride with my head held high.  Oh no, as much as I hate to admit this rather large character flaw (namely that I am a control freak), change that I have not been the master of has to pull me forward by the scruff of my neck while I kick and scream in protest: "But I LIKED the way things were!" "Leave me be! I was happy where I was!!!"  When my best friend got married - as thrilled as I was for her to have found an awesome life partner, father and husband - I grieved for the duo that we used to be (and let me tell you, we were - and still are - quite a pair!).  When I left Africa after three incredible life-altering years, I came home in a fog that took months to come out of.  When summer and sailing season ended each year in my former land life, I mourned and went into a funk.  When we part ways with buddy boats, I get weepy.  In other words, when my little world is rocked, it takes me a good, long while to get my bearings again.  Seems out of character, right?  Guess I am not as "go with the flow" as I might like to think I am.  I'm a walking, talking paradox at times.

Part of this current resistance, no doubt, is the fact that it is winter right now and (despite loving to ski), I never have and never will be a "winter" or cold weather person.  I will be going home to temperatures in the single and possibly negative digits.  Up north where I come from, is not unusual for the sun to remain in hiding for days at a time this time of year.  It's dark a lot and, obviously, really cold.  For a sun-loving, beach-going, warm-weather-lover like me, it's hard to get excited about those things.  For someone like me, weather like that is just a tad depressing.

The other part of this resistance and sorrow is that I kind of feel like we're breaking up, you and I.

Sharing this adventure with you all has been a pleasure, you have brought me tremendous support, joy, insight and, sometimes, even friendship.  You have challenged, inspired and pushed me.  And while we have no plans to sell this boat (unless we buy another one) and are prepping to resume cruising again in the 2015 season (we plan to be based in the BVI's where it will be easier to island hop and adjust to life aboard as five, more on this to come), this hiatus will be a long one.  I am still going to write during this land-based period, and when I feel inspired or have reason, it will be boat and cruising related... But for the most part - I'm going to be a landlubber embarking on a new adventure.  Namely one of the "three children under three" variety.  I have no doubt that being a mama to a toddler and twins (a situation likened to the 'decathlon of parenting' in a book I read) will provide me with plenty of fodder for amusing and insightful stories and blog posts, sporadic as they might be for a while.  But I also know that reading about adventures in twin rearing is not why many of you are here...

And while I welcome with open arms the new followers of this blog who are reading to follow exactly that stuff ,  I also know that I will be parting ways with some of you - and that is totally understandable and okay (this began, after all, as a cruising blog).  But do me a favor and refrain from actually telling me that you will be no longer be reading or that you are so sad we are moving back to land you can hardly stand it or that you just know we won't be happy ashore and that we should really reconsider our options (yes, emails in all three categories have been received).  Right now, I need to focus on the positive and hearing those things makes me sad.

Regardless, as sentimental as I am about this chapter ending, I am ready to embrace this new adventure (yes, even despite the cold weather).  It's time.  The past couple of months have been challenging for us in ways that I have not shared.  We need to re-charge our batteries and focus on what is the most important thing right now:  our family and healthy babies.  Scott and I were texting yesterday about this very subject and he reminded me that every major change in our life has lead us to something even better than before: from buying our first boat, to quitting our jobs to leaving Chicago, to sailing to Grenada, to Scott getting employed by Island Windjammers, to coming home for eight months to have Isla, to getting a bigger boat and resuming cruising again...all of these major shifts in our life were not without some yin and yang type emotions and growing pains...but every single time, and I mean every. single. time. we came out the other side better than before.  Each and every transformation cultivated us into something greater, whether or not we knew it at the time.  So, while I might be resistant to this big change upon us and lament the end of this amazing chapter, I know in my heart of hearts that this slash mark on the timeline of our lives will mark the beginning of something even greater than before...

And we'll be back on the boat, back in the islands, back to living our dream.  Of that I am certain.

We have committed ourselves to a life less ordinary, a life where adventure is the rule and not the exception.

But for now, we'll take pause.

Feeling Out of Sorts

I'm feeling out of sorts lately.  As our visit home nears and end, and - being the procrastinator I am - the pace gets a little too 'frenetic' for my liking, I am feeling a little...for lack of a better word...funky.  I have things I want to say, experiences I want to write about but I'm either being edited by folks around me (one such experience involves a very negative/judgmental encounter with a family member - hence the silence) or I simply just can't find my groove.  I am feeling overwhelmed on both the macro level (twin pregnancy, our life getting turned up-side down, where will we store our boat?) and micro level (have to get my license renewed, last minute errands, packing) and when I tend to get overwhelmed, I go into shut-down mode.  It's not the trait I am proudest of, that is for sure.  But here I am, doing nothing, and zoning out to HGTV like a home-improvement junkie.  I just don't have the energy for anything else at the moment.

All of this is compounded by the feeling that I don't feel right neither here nor there.  While there is a huge part of me that is excited to get back to the boat, there's also a part of me that is kind of dreading it as well:  the extreme heat, the fact that we will be literally greeted by a boat-load of projects, the realization that we have to make a lot of hard decisions in the coming months.  Then there are the minor "issues" that are nagging at me:  will we return to a resurrection of our former cockroach "issue"?  Will our boat be overtaken by mold and mildew?  Did I prep her for our hiatus well enough?  We'll find out soon.  Coming back to a boat that's been sitting in the water for weeks always feels like a bit of a crap shoot to me, despite our strict standards of procedure.

On the flip side, as sad as I am to leave after what feels like another whirl-wind visit where we only got to see three quarters of the people we wanted, I don't feel exactly "home" here either.  For the past three years this has been a great place to swoop in, see friends, and stock up on supplies we can't get down island.  Now - with the realization that this is going to be a bit more "permanent" than originally planned - I am feeling strange.  I like to visit.  I like the impermanence of it.  I like living on a boat.  I like that our life is always just one wind shift away from taking a completely different course.  The fact that I'll be returning in December - in the dead of winter, no less - for what will be a much longer visit than ever expected, I am feeling sad.  I know, I know...file this under "first world problems" because coming home is going to come with an abundance of awesomeness as well.   No matter how you slice the pie that is our life Scott and I are incredibly blessed and lucky, so I should just buck up and get over it.  But I am also human.  And sometimes we humans get in funks, regardless of how wonderful our lives are.

So that's where I am at right now.  I feel a bit stymied on the blogging front, despite feeling like I have a lot to say.  I am totally hopped up on pregnancy hormones.  I am feeling tremendously overwhelmed by all the decisions we have to make and the incredible life changes that are on the horizon and I'm trying to navigate my way through it.  So, sorry to be a Debby Downer but this is where I am at right now.  Maybe a dose of Caribbean sunshine is just what the doctor ordered?  Or maybe I just need to marinate in this for a hot minute and let it roll...

Giving up on the Dream? Hardly.

Apparently some of you are utterly devastated that we will be taking a pause from cruising.  A couple of you have even sent emails with calculated pleas aimed at changing our minds, complete with scenarios and action plans.  "Please don't give up on the dream!" you say... "Do you really want to be frustrated landlubbers?" you ask.  While your devotion to our blog, lifestyle and dream is completely heartwarming and flattering, I want to reassure you all:  we will be cruising again!  Please, do not despair, we are absolutely not "giving up on our dream" - we're simply putting it on hold for what will ultimately be a small wrinkle of time in the grand scheme of life.

Here's the thing:  sometimes we have to make decisions that we never expected we'd have to make.  Sometimes, life hands us something we never saw coming and we have to change tacks.  We are forced to "sail the wind we're in" and head into waters we weren't planning on in order to best accommodate.  You've all been here; college rejection letters, breakups, illness, layoffs, job offers, family obligations, relocations....and yes, babies.  We've all faced forks in the road and had to make a choice - sometimes easy, sometimes not - on which path to take.  Lucky for us, our "something" is a gift, and not a tragedy.  Our "something" is a tremendous blessing that will ultimately enrich our lives more than any cruising stint ever will.  Our "something" is new life that will, one day, make cruising even more fun and fulfilling.

I will be totally honest:  in our experience, cruising with one baby was a piece of cake.  I know that is not the case for many folks cruising with infants - but for us, one infant was easy to manage on a boat.  But now we'll have two infants at once in addition to a very active toddler.  We are not delusional, we are realistic.  Anyone who has twins will tell you that two babies is not twice, but four times the work.  Anyone with twins will tell you that raising two at once is a huge challenge for even the most equipped couples.   Our self-imposed hiatus from cruising is going to allow us the time we need to adjust to this new life, find our groove and enable us to give our babies the best start possible.  It will provide us with the means to refill our cruising kitty and give us time to make plans for phase two (or would it be three?) of cruising.  The fact that we'll be living next door to my semi-retired parents, rent free, will be a huge, huge help.  We are incredibly lucky.

While there is, of course, a large part of us that mourns the fact that we are taking a break from the ocean and lifestyle we love, there is also a large part that is excited for this change.  I've said it before, many times in fact... living on a boat is not without it's challenges and while it might look beautiful, glamorous and ideal from the outside, I assure you, it has it's difficulties.  We are looking forward to being able to revel in the advantages of a semi-stable life on terra firma: enjoying family, friends, and the innumerable conveniences that most of us take for granted every single day.  Because we have been (gratefully) spared the need to buy or rent a house, we will also be saving money - which means we'll be able to get back to cruising faster than most faced with a similar situation.

So please, do not look at this change in plans as an abandonment of our dreams and for the love of all things holy, do not pity us (and, if you could also refrain from sending things about the "horrors" of raising twins, we would appreciate that as well).  We will hardly be "suffering" and we are actually looking forward to this new adventure.  I will still be writing, I will still be me and I can promise you this:  you'll see us sail off again.  I might not be able to give you an exact departure date but one thing I know for sure is that this is not a "death" to be mourned, but a new life - and adventure - to be celebrated.  If you care to join in on the ride, we'd love to have you with us.  If not - that's okay too - maybe we'll catch you when we head out again.