Facing facts

Turns out that I have unreasonably low expectations for my son, at least when it comes to his packing skills. He packed a perfectly sane assortment of clothing for the trip, and all I did was merge the contents of two half-empty suitcases into one suitcase. I didn't add or subtract or substitute any of the contents. Yay, son!

Turns out my daughter is probably ready to move out and have kids of her own. Well, not quite, but close. See, on our long road trip to Michigan, we hit a bit of turbulence in the form of my son and a stomach virus. As I later told my mother, if the kids had been five years younger and this had happened, I would've been toast! Instead, after vomit #2 (but #1 in the car), I pulled across three lanes of traffic in Nashville's suburbs, pulled into a Walgreen's parking lot, fished out some cash from my wallet, and sent my daughter inside to buy paper towels and baby wipes. And she did it! No argument, no nervousness about going alone inside a store in a strange city. Just grace and aplomb. Even better, she returned, gave me the change, and informed me that she'd made the executive decision to buy the small package of wipes because she figured I didn't want a case of 500. She was, perhaps, a bit less willing to assist me in cleaning up the mess, but she did score points for being very sweet and solicitous of her miserable brother.

Turns out my son is nearly 5' tall and my daughter is already 5'1 1/2". That makes her only two inches shorter than me. She's TEN!

Turns out that when Craig and I have the house to ourselves, we pretty much behave the same way we do when the kids are around.

Turns out getting up at 4 a.m. to work on a Saturday (and it'll happen again on Sunday) is just as hard as one would expect.

Turns out that I'm really, really glad my kids (and my dad) are getting home today. Even though it's only been since Wednesday morning since I saw them, I miss them.

Turns out I like my new haircut (and will post a picture soon).