…begins impossibly early in the morning.

…begins without a watch.

…begins in an airport, in the u.s. – where the threat level is orange.

…begins on an empty stomach, because i’m too nervous to eat.

…begins without caffeine. (no, really, it does. i wouldn’t have thought so, either.)

…begins on a very, very, impossibly small plane (i can see it out the window right now. it’s tiny. maybe not, private jet tiny, more of 4 seats to a row tiny.)

…begins right now.

i’m doin’ it. i’m sitting here in an airport waiting for a plane. waiting for a plane that will take me to los angeles – where i’ll wait for another plane. a plane that will take me to hong kong. where i’ll wait again – for a plane that will take me to bangkok. where i thought bh would be meeting me. but, he won’t. instead i’ll be spending…

wait for it…

it’s worth it…

one night in bangkok.

yep. and, of course, i had to look up the lyrics. i’m hoping that maybe this one will be my lyric – “one night in bangkok and the world’s your oyster”. and not this one – “one night in bangkok makes a hard man humble” – or this one – “one night in bangkok and the tough guys tumble”. you know, i sing the song, or rather i hum most of it and then belt out the one night in bangkok part (until just a few moments ago those were the only words i knew. ) it’s a fun song to hum/sing. the tune made me think bangkok might be fun. but the lyrics – they scare me. anyway, after my one night in bangkok, it’s back to the airport and off to chiang mai. that’s where bh will meet me. we have an interview at the kids school. i feel like i should have every moment planned. know what we’re doing each day – have something to accomplish. but i don’t. wait, i mean we do have plenty to accomplish, it’s just i don’t know how we go about doing it.

so, now i sit here. in the colorado springs airport. very aware that this is a big moment. change is in the air. and i don’t even know how to describe it other than to say it feels big, huge, momentous. not so unlike the night before my scheduled c-sections. you know somewhat scary – but in a good way, scary in an i can’t wait to get going kind of way, but know i can’t even begin to fathom how my life will change. and it’s not just my life. it is the life of 5 of us. what happens to a kid when you pick them up and transplant them to a completely different culture? i can’t help but believe they’ll be better for it, i’m sure we’ll all be better for it.

and so the journey begins. and for those who might be curious – it’s not a journey of a thousand miles. it’s a journey of eight thousand eighty one miles. wow.

~monica, 36, colorado springs