It's great fun to go and travel and ski and eat and drink and enjoy the nightlife.
But it's even more fun when your heart, not just your belly, is full.
And that, I think, is what made my mini-vacation so wonderful. I have never before sat dressed to the nines, in an elegant bar in a faraway resort town, and smiled and tossed my hair and drank in the ambiance all the while thinking, I've got a secret.
You can't tell by looking at me, but it isn't the wine or the lights or the day on the slopes or even the admiring glance of my husband that is making me glow.
It's the love of my faraway little boy that flushes my cheeks and sparkles my eyes. And no matter how wonderful this all is (and it really, really is) I am smiling because I am thinking of how it will be when I open the door to my home and he rushes into my arms.
And you know what? Coming home was just as wonderful as I imagined going away would be.
