We’re back from two fun-filled weeks in the Beehive State. And when I say fun-filled, I mean overflowing with fun every single day; up-til-1:30-every-night fun; so much fun that being home again is a complete let-down (am I the only one who thinks of breastmilk every time they hear that term?)
I can’t help but be impressed with myself by flying alone with six kids. It wasn’t a big deal. I got more stressed about travelling when I just had two kids (how crazy is that? Travelling with two kids now sounds like a vacation in and of itself. No offense to all you two-kid moms. It’s like weight lifting; if you’re new to exercise a single push-up is a big deal. But if you work out three hours a day, a push-up is just a drop in the bucket. So it is with parenting. I’m sure Michelle Duggar would scoff at my life with a paltry six children.)
You wouldn’t believe how many times I had this conversation:
Ballsy Stranger: [at this point I had no idea what his reply was. I was too busy getting through security with seven people, plus their shoes, plus their backpacks–what do you mean you forgot to take your pocket knife out after Scout Camp?!!!–plus my laptop, plus a double stroller, plus a car seat, plus a tidily arranged assortment of 3 oz. liquids. I wasn’t terribly interested in his inane banter.]
So now I’m in the land of overflowing laundry (I think I’m going to whittle all our clothes down to five outfits apiece and just wash them until they fall apart), and planning meals and hardcore cleaning. “Sucks” does not even come close to capturing my emotions today. I think I’m going to have to re-enroll in Flylady just to keep myself from committing suicide.
Plus I have no Mtn. Dew to grease my wheels (let’s just say it’s been flowing liberally through my veins lately–see the 1:30 a.m. comment.) All I have here is Diet Dew (That shabby imposter. Although I’ve tried to like it, there simply has not been a Love Connection.)
As much as I love being at home (hence the beehives and bird nests and all that), I adore vacations. You know how at the end of a vacation you’re a little excited to be going home? I’ve never felt that. I practically cry all the way back. (Seriously, is there anything sadder than waiting in the hotel lobby for your transportation back to the airport while watching someone just arriving?) Even though this trip did not involve any hotels (nice or otherwise), I was still sad to go. We had a wonderful time with all our relatives and friends, and crammed in a ton of fun things.
P.S. Mister did not quite finish the wood floor in the family room. He did get some of it done, and I must admit, I’m impressed. He’s not the handiest fellow, but it looks very nice. He also cleaned out the garage and did a few other odd jobs around the house that are normally all up to me (like changing light bulbs. I don’t think he’s ever changed a light bulb. No, I take that back. A few months ago he replaced the light bulb above the kitchen table–normally 60 watts–with a 150 watt photography strobe light. After we all went blind eating breakfast, I demanded he change it.)