It’s over. We’re done. I love my family, and my State, and I love Christmas and New Years and all that junk. I do. But. I cannot even begin to tell you how happy I am to be sitting in this airport. In about 11 minutes I’ll get on a plane to fly all night squished between two kids. At 6:17 in the morning, I’ll drag those little tired butts off of one plane and on to another where I will count the minutes until we land. At home.
These last few weeks have been really cool. We played a dozen or so of the most hilarious games of Speed Scrabble (or Banana Grams or Take Two - or whatever you want to call it) in the history of the world - like, wet-yourself funny. We spent a day in San Francisco herding a group of eleven through crowds of tourists and shoppers and beggars and street performers. We drove an hour up to an empty field blanketed in snow, where my three sons and two nephews got dominated by Grandma in an epic battle of snowballs. And we got to just hang out alot, which was really nice, because we didn’t really get to do that with family the last time we were home.
We ate way too much, and slept way too little. We laughed until we cried. And we trash talked each other, and harassed my Mom. And our kids played hours and hours and hours of video games with their cousins. And I got kisses and hugs from my little niece, and felt our family's newest baby girl kicking from inside my sisters gigantic pregnant belly. And I will miss it all. Every bit of it. Every moment.
I will miss it while I sleep comfortably and deeply in my own bed. I will miss it while I tuck my kids in after a quiet evening at home. I will miss it while I brew regular old coffee and drink it with plain old milk in the morning. And I will miss it all, immensely, while I shower, shop, work, relax, chill out, stress out, and hang out in my own house, my own space, in my own way, and on my own terms.
I will sincerely miss it. I can’t wait to be missing it. It won’t be long now...