There is a formula to life here for us. At the beginning of the trip there is enthusiasm. We might kvetch about the heat and the bug bites and rain on days we wanted to go to the beach, but we love it.

We have ideas about what we want to do, but there’s no rush. We have energy to go to the beach or take a drive every day.

The middle of the trip is when the activities the kids brought fail to entertain them. Sometimes we don’t make the effort to leave the house. The  younger ones cause trouble in their boredom. The older ones whine and flop around. There’s nothing to do! They can’t find something they’re looking for. They are tired of the food choices. It has been too many days without a predictable sleep schedule.

Now, we are past the lazy middle days of the trip where it doesn’t matter if we don’t do something every day. We have to cram all the memories we can into the hours so that we won’t have any regrets.

As our last few days in Tobago come and go, we feel the need to do the things we haven’t done yet. There was a visit to Cylon’s grandmother. We had our Date Night. A spontaneous trip to Turtle Beach to jump waves and catch the sunset. Tuesday night we snuck out with Cylon’s sister and some friends for a concert at a club. There’s a photo shoot with the current baby taking a tub bath in Granny’s kitchen. Weather permitting, today is a pilgrimage back to the waterfall.

There are no more recovery days; we can do that when we get home.

Our oldest has already started talking about his to-do list when we get back. He has a vehicle maintenance schedule for his fleet, and his continued campaign to wear us down into agreeing to let him buy a dirt bike. He’s talking about packages he ordered being delivered and what he’ll do with what’s inside.

We start feeling a little wistful for our own beds, nights when our kids slept all the way through. We start to steel ourselves for the cold.

I am not yet ready to think about the methodical packing the night before our flight, the early wake up and loading up that morning, hoping we remembered everything. Anything beyond that, I have hidden firmly behind a wall.

Even so, I can feel my mind turning back. I want to be fully present while we’re here, but I have to prepare my head for what awaits us back in our regular lives.

For now, I’m listening to the rain patter on the corrugated roof of our apartment, and staying right where I am.