Home is Where the Boat Is

Well, it turns out I am not psychic.  I had a horrific dream the night before last that we would return to the boat, push open the companionway hatch and be greeted by a re-infestation of our German cockroaches.  I would see their wily antennae in every crack, they would scatter en-masse with each locker opened and every cushion raised.  It was going to be ugly.  I was dreading that our year-long battle with roaches, a battle we had all but won mind you, would be re-waged with a vengeance after three weeks of primo-breeding action and no line of defense.   My imagination has always been labeled as "active" and herein lies the downside to that:  I had worked myself into quite a tizzy about this imaginary roach debacle, which is pretty ridiculous considering we have plenty of other fish to fry at the moment.

Luckily, all this mental anguish was for naught.  Being an expert worry wart I have become accustomed the reality that worry, like most things in life, follow a sort of Pareto principle - better known as the 80/20 rule.  What I mean is this:  80% of the things we worry about do not come to pass, and a mere 20% do.  You'd think that knowing this would make me worry less - but no, it just makes me wonder if what I am worrying about falls into the lesser or greater category.  Ho hum.   And so when I stepped down into the belly of our beautiful boat and found her just as pretty and perfect as we left her, I almost shed a tear of joy.  I lifted cushions, looked in cupboards and under floorboards and there was not a single roach to be found.  What's more is the fact that the second I walked into our boat, the fog that I have been in for the past week completely lifted and my spirits started to soar.  It was almost instantaneous and no matter how much I can complain about the heat (because it's really hot here), the projects and the hassles of living afloat - it just goes to show that sometimes all you need to do is step away to get a little perspective.  Sometimes, we need a little time apart from the things we take for granted in order to appreciate them.  We're lucky that we can do this from time to time.

But enough waxing poetic for now...I'm back.  I feel great.  I have new energy.  I have new inspiration and what's best is that I have two healthy babies (allegedly the size of apples) thickening my midsection.  I'm not going to lie, I was in a pretty dark place for a week or two there - feeling overwhelmed, wonky and just plain blah.  But, lucky for me, it turns out that a boat floating in the Caribbean is my Prozac and coming back made one thing very clear to me:  cruising will be a part of our lives forever, it's vital to my happiness.  This realization - while I always knew it in my heart of hearts - was like a breath of fresh air and lifted a huge weight off my shoulders.  Not only am I not clinically depressed (just majorly hormonal), but we'll get on the water with our toddlers in tow in no time.  My worry, like my fear of infestation, was for naught.

Coming back last night felt like coming home...and while home is most certainly where the heart is, right now, my heart is with the boat.  Though I wouldn't mind if the temperature dropped a few degrees...just sayin'.  We're planning on shoving off this week with our friends and pointing our bow for islands North! Cannot wait.