home again home again jiggity jig
We’re home and back to our old tricks.
Like, taping our eyelids shut.
And conducting rubber band target practice for homeschool P.E.
Thanks Grandpa Starks for the jumbo rubber bands!
Dan is making scrambled eggs in our tiny kitchen, singing: can we have a day without potty talk? Just. One. Day?
And we’ve determined that Durango in January is pretty much the opposite of Kauai. High, cold, dry, and dormant. But it’s like a dear familiar friend, even if that friend is shivering and breaking out in eczema.
We flew home on a red-eye, sure that we’d sleep easy on the 6-hour flight between Kauai and Phoenix. How do you make God laugh? Right. The kids slept great, outstretched on the bed-lap of a parent, while I passed six hours—six!—wondering what exactly creates turbulence, if the man sleeping next to Rose minded her feet in his lap, and what it would be like to get off the plane in Phoenix on a new day, on Col’s 7th birthday.
We landed at sunrise and I staggered off the plane with Rose, waiting for Dan and Col, who were in a different aisle. Col flung himself into my arms like it had been a long time since we’d seen each other, which it had been; last time I saw him he was six.
I have so much more to say about Col’s birthday, about his birth and about him, but there are so many crazy memories from his time in the NICU bubbling up (it’s that book wanting to be written), I can tell I need some time to organize my thoughts.
I just wanted to let you all know we got home safely. Thanks for all your fruit suggestions and tropical camaraderie.
Kalalau trail above Na Pali coast