The Guilt Factor

Jill's Journal: I feel guilty. My poor husband is overwhelmed by everything still on his plate before we leave town. And yet, there’s not a whole lot I can do to help him right now except keep the kids out of his hair.

So the girls and I have been having a lovely time (hence the guilt). We’ve done everything from the pool with the wonderful Heather to pony rides with the lovely Katy and crew. We’ve played in the great outdoors with the fantastic Colby and her girls before heat and hunger drove us all indoors for a nice lunch instead. We’ve spent a marvelous day in the country with the incredibly hospitable Mary and family. (Is there any town in Kentucky more charming than Wilmore? Seriously, even the utility poles, each one of them for 1 1/2 miles, have hanging flower baskets.) We even attended a fitness day at the Bluegrass Airport, where a brand new runway was opened to the public to walk, bike, skate, etc. for an afternoon and the girls got to enjoy sitting in a police helicopter and on a police motorcycle. We’ve tried the bumper cars at GattiTown, we’ve had a bonfire, we’ve had water fights with a hose. And the list goes on.

I’m trying to make the best of it because, trust me, we are all so stinkin’ eager to get on the road. To be so close and yet still be sitting here, 10 days or more after we thought we’d be gone, is frustrating. And while the girls are having a great time, I think even they are getting restless. Erika, our 6-year-old, said to me yesterday, “Mommy, it’s a house on wheels. Aren’t we supposed to go somewhere?”


Yes, dear girl, yes. We are indeed. We’re going to go on the ride of your young life, I promise. Be patient just a little while longer.