My last post of Nablop was going to be a long reflection on how happy I was that I'd done it, and how it turned out to be a blessing because I discovered that I can write it every day without burning out, and how in fact the more I wrote during November the more energized I felt to write, and yada yada yada big kick in the pants for my blog and come back! there will be more here regularly and all that.
I'm glad I didn't do it, because it is now six days later, natch, and this is the first thing you're getting out of me since I posted that last Nablop post.
(Can I say how glad I am that y'all agree that Milla looks like me? After I posted I was momentarily terrified that no one would see the resemblance and I would feel like a first-class idiot. But instead I am validated, so hooray!)
The obligation to post every day in November was a grace to me in many ways because it removed a factor that has always paralyzed me when it comes to writing about my life on the Internet. I don't write for a while, and then I really want to write but I feel like it would be abrupt to just pick up where I left off without narrating the in-between stuff, but the prospect of that is tedious, so I delay some more, and... well, you all know where that got me in the months before November.
However, for lack of anything else to say and because the past six days have been packed, here's a rundown of them.
Saturday we got our Christmas tree, a big beautiful Frasier fir, and put it up and decorated it. Last year we did this during naps while our time-bomb baby slept her cradle swing a few feet away. This year, she helped. If there is anything more adorable than a 13.5-month-old toting around a box of shatterproof tree ornaments and delightfully exclaiming "ball!" over every shiny one she saw, I don't know what it is.
Sunday we took a day trip to Frankenmuth, the oh-so-tourist-trappy but cheesily-delightful "Michigan's Little Bavaria." I have fond memories of the place from my childhood, and the day trip has become a yearly tradition for us and my sister's family. We eschew the "famous" mediocre local chicken and traipse around to local shops to gather sausage and aged cheese and bread and German pickles, and then we have a picnic in our car. On the way out of town we hit the world's most humongous Christmas store (this year we got ourselves a new tree topper) and we head home feeling like we've had a great time, even though we've been in town for only about three hours.
We finished off Sunday by having friends over for dinner. The chicken was undercooked and the mashed potatoes were lukewarm and there was not enough broccoli but the company was lovely and the conversation was lively and it was a wonderful ending to a wonderful weekend.
My Monday started with a criminally-early physical therapy appointment. (I have a shoulder impingement which is causing tendinitis and bursitis, but the PT is helping immensely.) I spent the rest of the day toiling away at laundry. I also made bread to go with the chili for dinner that turned out unfortunately dense and yucky. I think it was a reflection of my mood because I knew what was coming...
...on Tuesday morning, when Bryan got on a plane to go out west on a business trip. The situation was marginally improved by the fact that I came back to stay with my parents for the three days and two nights he was gone. It wasn't too bad this time, and I stayed busy hanging out with my family and taking naps while Milla's kind relatives watched her. But still, I missed my husband and Milla missed her dad.
And about fifteen minutes ago, he walked in the door. This is how I feel about that: