The first night we crawled into our own beds after our family vacation, I laid with my back to Mr. Fantastic and said,
“I didn’t want to come back.”
“I know,” he said.
It’s a good thing that Texas welcomed me with wildflowers on the roadside. It helped that we were in Fredericksburg at dinnertime and I got to peek into the window of my favorite shop and eat pizza on a patio on Main Street. As I walked up to my front door my hydrangeas were just beginning to bloom, and it was like salve for my weary soul.
Where does all this heaviness come from, I wonder?
Was it the perfect temperatures and the gorgeous scenery that is always part of California?
Was it the deliciously indulgent days spent poolside with all my favorite people in one place?
Perhaps it is the pace of real life that seems to drag me along at breakneck speed here, with four children, a growing church, and just, well, life.
The day after we got home Mr. Fantastic was up and out at 6:00 am, the boys had piano, the Lady had ballet, there was no food in the house, and we had community group at our house that night.
I have decided we live like this because, really, we are mostly crazy.
It’s now the second day back, and I have a strategy to get through the laundry, the dishes, and the unpacking.
I’m cutting contact paper and putting it in all the kitchen drawers. Makes sense, right?
Contact paper makes the drawers pretty. It hides the stains from the time the coffee pot overflowed into the drawers, and the cracks in the thirty year old paint. I get to measure and cut and place it, which is therapeutic and mindless. Today, I need therapeutic and mindless.
I love you, contact paper. You make life seem a little lighter, and when I consider you along with the hydrangeas, I am so very glad to be home.
