We arrived home Monday from our trip to Traverse City. Though the main purpose of the trip, a memorial service and burying my grandmother’s ashes, was rather somber, we ended up having a pretty decent time.
We stayed at the cottage my grandmother used to own – my dad and his sister along with my grandparents would spend each summer in this cottage on the lake. Though my grandmother sold it a few years ago, the new owners (who happened to live next door) continued to let her use it until the time she died, and welcomed us to use it this past weekend as well.
Thank goodness for those neighbors, because in addition to letting us have a roof over our head, they had six-year-old twins. The Princess got along with them fantastically, and she spent much time splashing in the lake, singing and dancing with her new friends. From the time she’d wake up in the morning, until the time we told her “time for bed!” she was outside and running around with her new buddies. We really couldn’t have asked for a better weekend for her – since we’d initially been concerned that she wasn’t going to have a good time at all.
While we were away, I got a reminder of the me I used to be – I felt carefree, I felt relaxed and I didn’t feel so bogged down. It was such a good feeling… and I returned home to my over-extended agenda, some last-minute schedule changes by Stepson’s mother, and cranky children who would rather be back on vacation. Pumpkin turns 2 on Friday and I’ve yet to go present shopping.
I’ve lost the relaxed carefree feeling I had and am back to the grind.
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