Everyone on this side of the planet is freezing. It's an unheard-of 24 degrees here in Central Texas, and I've just sent my two precious teenagers out into the cold to go back to school.
Thank. You. Jesus.
It was time. Honestly, it was time a week ago. Teenagers are adult-sized people. Which means that the house that fit your little family perfectly ten years ago (or 18 more like it) gets a little crowded with so many adults (and their stuff) in it. Then they bring their friends.
And it's wonderful. I would way rather have all the kids here eating and playing games and tearing up the joint than worrying about where they are somewhere else. I love it that they still want to play board games instead of vomiting Bartles and Jaymes wine coolers out of the back seat (wait, what?). I'm glad they still want to watch movies with their dad instead of spending all their time at the mall.
But despite our nearly perfect holidays (just enough travel, just enough home, just enough family, too much food, too much wine), there's still the fact. The fact being that there are people in my house. And they're breathing. For weeks on end.
The girls got an extra special breakfast this morning to get them on their way. Tra la!