I figure there's no way to really go back. Even though I have lovely, funny, make you cry and make you laugh stories surrounding move-in and our vacation (both which involve a lot of vomit and the big D), I figure there's really no way to go back and tell them all to you. Someday I'll start a series entitled, "Once Upon a Move-in . . ." just to give you random glimpses into the past two months. So for now we're starting from here.
The now. Well, okay, the last night. Last night we had friends over.
Real friends, non-family, people with their 3 children. I cooked dinner, we made blueberry pies together and it felt so nice to do something we once used to do a lot of. Right after they arrived, I asked my son to get me a mixing bowl out of the cabinet. He turned and turned and turned the lazy susan cabinet around and around saying he couldn't see one. The truth is there are probably 15 different bowls in that cabinet. Glass, plastic, stainless steel, bowls with lids, bowls without lids and even a punch bowl. I just needed a bowl, any bowl.
So I asked him to stop turning and start looking. Then I said, "Right there. That will work." To which he replied, "Oh! You mean the throw-up bowl!".
"Son, how 'bout we use a different bowl."