I've never handled vacation transitions well. I blame this on my father who traditionally extends our family vacations by at least one day as a "surprise," but we've become so accustomed to the "how about one more day?" huzzah that it always seems kind of impossible that we actually return home. In post-vacation fashion, Caleb and I got into a stupid fight over diapers and spent most of our evening sulking in our respective corners until we finally hashed it out.
C: What I am SAYING is that I would have just changed her there.
(translation: What I am SAYING is that I don't travel well and am so grateful that I got home a day before you just so I could mentally prepare for the freaky mess that is YOU)
M: You weren't THERE and I'm not saying I'm proud of how I handled it but that is what I CHOSE to do.
(translation: WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Beach!)
So. Back to reality. Pictures of Opera Memphis' Faust, Molly's 3rd birthday and (wah) vacation coming soon!
All the cool people do it.
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2 comments:
Wait until Harlow is old enough to get in on the act! Then you and the spouse can growl at each other AND bitch at your kid because she won't stop asking why we can't live at the beach.
Welcome home, though!
Oh, she had plenty to say. Pooped the second the plane took off and screamed BEACH!!!!!!! BEACH!!!!!!! as we flew away.
Thanks!!
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