But I want to go NOW!!!

As my nearest and dearest may know by now I have obsessive tendencies. I call my lovely husband at 4:30pm every day. If he’s busy working & cant answer I frantically pace until he is able to call me back. Not because I worry he’s hurt or something. Simply because by golly I call him at 4:30pm EVERY day and he’s supposed to answer. Or when I make my grocery list it has to be in order of when the item goes in the basket. Today I had made my grocery list and decided to go to Wal-Mart instead of the grocery store. Yep you guessed it. I had to re-write my list. My dad is the same way. He told me once that he has yelled at the grocery store workers for re-arranging the store. I know it’s stupid but it’s me. And my nearest and dearest love me anyway. Anyway~ sometimes my obsessive-ness begins to wear me down. I get tired. And cranky. Very cranky. Once I reach this point there is only one thing that can get me back on track. I pack up my kids and head to a place that I can not reveal to the general public. It’s my “Secret Garden” so to speak. It’s the one place I can go to and turn the cell phone off and the only thing I’m responsible for is changing poopy diapers (because my wonderful hosts will do everything BUT change poopy diapers). I have been known to decide Friday afternoon that I HAVE to go to my secret garden. So~ I’ll frantically throw a bunch of clothes, dirty & clean (washer/dryer on site) into bags, load up the hubby & kids and head out. Once I pull into the driveway I immediately feel like I’m home. I have no worries at all. My “to do list” consists of rest & recoup. I’ve been literally dreaming of this place for months now but this happened and that happened. And I’m at that point. I am counting backwards & practicing my breathing techniques. So I made the plan to go this weekend. I’ve been so excited! Only to get the call that we have to put it off another week while they have miscellaneous things that have to be done this weekend. I managed to do the whole “I understand, it’s ok…” and make it off the phone before I started bawling. It makes me wish I was 5 again so I could stomp my feet and scream until I got my way. I feel guilty for being upset about it. There are legitimate reasons why we can’t go this weekend. That doesn’t mean I have to like it though. Does it?