I am sitting at the airport, about to board a plane for my honeymoon. I know that makes zero sense because we have been married for ten whole years this month, but I am not making this up.

Some friends and family all pitched in to surprise us with an anniversary getaway.  Apparently the original plan was to send us away for a few days, maybe even get us some place far away enough to take a flight!  Well... Thanks to the overwhelming generosity of our wonderful friends, sisters, brothers, parents, and family, we are going to JAMAICA for a whole week!  

I mean...

A) we named our second-born Marlie, a more feminine spelling of Marley, as in Bob Marley, as in "ya mon."   So this is pretty much a dream come true.

B) we did not really have a honeymoon.  For those that don't know this already, our Annalee was born five weeks after our wedding.  (It is a little depressing when you can't travel too far for your honeymoon because you have to stay close to your gynecologist.) So, you get the point.  It was winter, I was large and in charge, and our few days in Niagara Falls... Not hot.

C) we have had a wild ten years.  Five kids - 3 horrific pregnancies, 2 emotional adoptions, we've lost loved ones, we've moved five times, bought our first home, and fought about whether or not burning said home down is really the best way to declutter.  The past year alone we have had a failed adoption placement, a successful adoption placement, many unforeseen challenges with Jay's health and development, and that seems like a good time for Tom to get laid off.

After all that, then the 31 Days of Kindness (which are wonderfully challenging, but also draining and exhausting) we are ready for a getaway.  We would NEVER, ever take a trip like this - even if Tom still had his job - but we had certainly resolved that our 10th anniversary would have to be celebrated on year eleven or twelve.  So this whole thing has totally blown us away.  

But, when the islands call, you go.

Unless you abide by Tom's traveling motto, which is more like, "When the islands call... you panic."  Or "...you print out TSA toiletrie guidelines, then panic."

The Lord knew that he could use a little Jamaica in his life.  And so we're off, with nothing but our bathing a suits and sunscreen (meticulously measured into 3.4 ounce increments) and I think it's gonna do us nothing but good.