I've been hanging out with my husband (still getting used to that novelty) and watching the Olympic drama each evening. I keep falling asleep on the couch and missing Phelps' races. Craig had to celebrate the record breaking relay all alone and recount how he stood hand to heart during the anthem because no one was there to make fun of him. Even our "Olympic snacks" (IBC Cream Soda and Cape Cod Jalapeno and Aged Cheddar potato chips) can't keep me up long enough for all the events.
I've been relishing these last days of our, thus far, schedule-free lives. In two weeks I'll have to get out of bed before my children. We'll have to comb our hair before noon and have a lunch made before we eat breakfast. Perhaps we should practice one week ahead. We are also in the middle of the great kindergarten bus debate. Should I brave the dreaded "carpool line" with three littles in the car or should I scoot Seth off to his first public school experience on the Big Yellow Bus? I thought I would be ready for this day. The First Day of School. But I am not.
I have been processing. Processing our last trip to Utah. Last, meaning "last week" and Last, meaning it could be the last one for a long time. In a few months my parents will be off to Korea and the Provo home will no longer be Home. We're also still processing the fact that we live "way over here" and trying to make it feel like "home".
Processing the last marriage and the time we had all together. The time the cousins had to finally reacquaint. Processing the details of our trip and all the photos that go along with them. Not the least of which included a family portrait, a "rodeo", a flood, a rescue, and a gift. All to come.
In the meantime we are trying to keep a handle on the four wee ones at home and still have time to look into each other's eyes. A challenge, my friend, a challenge. Especially when I can't seem to keep those eyes open!