Wanderlust!

This morning I was following in my thrifty Mum's footsteps and cutting up last year's Christmas cards to make gift tags for this years' prezzies, when my eldest boy - who only turned 3 in September - picked up the following card and announced:

"I need to go to India Momma!"

He just about knocked my socks off. 

"Oh yeah, Baby?" I asked innocently with a questioning lilt at the end.

"Yes Momma. I want to go on an adventure. I want to go to India and see these camels." 

Wow.

"Are they in India?" I asked. I wasn't so sure. I thought back to the Carol. I guess I'd always thought the three kings were from China.

We three kings of Orient are

Bearing gifts we traverse afar

Field and fountain, moor and mountain

Following yonder star

"Yes, Mommy!" He answered patiently like he was talking to a moron.

I've got to say so many mixed thoughts and emotions were flying through my head during our conversation.

Firstly, I was majorly impressed and somewhat confused; How on Earth does my three year old know there's a place called India where they ride on camels and wear fancy colorful robes ? 

Answer: Sesame Street of course.

Rahki celebration on Sesame Street

Momma confession: I Googled Are there camels in India? while writing this post. (There are - in case you're wondering too)  

Secondly, I was terrified and suddenly empathetic to my Mum and Dad. It's confirmed! Our little man has inherited our wanderlust. It was always a dead cert really, what with both Daddy and Momma being reverent Globetrotters.

Well, crap!

Memories of finding CNN snippets of hostage takings and beheadings from my Dad in my Hotmail inbox as I blithely continued galavanting across South America resurfaced. 

The idiom 'You reap what you sew' springs to mind. Or 'What goes around comes around.'

I've always been a massive backpack advocate, encouraging friends, work colleagues and impressionable students alike to travel if they can ; "Oh you must! Do it! It truly broadens your horizons. What's to be afraid of?" (Well, hostage takings and beheadings for a start....)

I'm not about to start getting all hypocritical with my own babies.

(*Sob.) 

But do they really have to go SO very far to broaden their horizons? Can't they just do it in Dallas or Houston or something?

I only half don't mean that.  

Mostly, though, I was just really really really damn proud of my brave smart kiddo.

"That would be fun, Baby. We could all get on an airplane and fly to India together to see those camels." 

I think I said it easily enough, with no trace of all those tumultuous thoughts and emotions. 

But here's the rub:

I know now (like I think I already did) in my heart of hearts, that one day I'll be the one hugging my barely grown-up baby boy goodbye at the airport. 

I'll stand and wave as he walks through to security, smiling my big signature smile. Then, when he's out of sight I'll cry big heart wrenching sobs into Daddy's neck until I'm so numb I can't feel anything.

I won't sleep or eat (well, I'll probably eat) until I get that first phone call or email telling me he's safe.

All this, to the power of 3 - and one's a girl...

OH MY GOD!

What have we gotten ourselves into?!