Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Oh wait, it's already January 7. My bad.
We got home from Missouri late last night and my house is out of control. Everywhere I look there are presents, suitcases and laundry, laundry, laundry. There's a dying Christmas tree in the corner and no amount of whining is going to make it walk itself to the curb tomorrow morning.
But the most important thing is that we have groceries. Houston will be experiencing A BIG FREEZE OF DRAMA AND COLDNESS AND ICE this weekend and I have made sure that we have enough food to eat at home for the next four days. If we do that, it will be record breaking.
Also, when you return home after 12 days of being gone and your white bread is still quasi-soft and not moldy, it is both wonderful and disturbing.
I'll end with this. In the last few minutes of our 13-hour road trip yesterday, Curtis and I were feeling a bit delirious. It was almost midnight and the kids were asleep in the back seat. Jackson began to snore a little, which made us laugh. Then I imagined what his wife would think about his snoring one day. (I was pleasantly surprised on my honeymoon to find that Curtis doesn't snore.) That led me to think about how I haven't been very good about praying for Jackson's future wife. Suddenly I sensed the beginnings a panic attack. What if my children's future marital happiness depends on my ability to remember to pray for their spouses before they're even in elementary school?
I said, "Babe, we really need to be praying for Jackson's future wife."
Curtis looked at me with his head cocked to the side and one eye squinted and said, "Are you serious? We're just trying to survive his third year!"
And then I laughed so hard I snorted. Jackson must get it from me.