Sorry for the hiatus, but not really. It was so needed. No blogging. No worrying about selling calendars and cards. Just lots and lots of Christmas cheer.
Mr. F and I had the opportunity to head north and spend Christmas with my family in Detroit. This was our first Christmas with family in three years and our first ever as a married couple. On top of that it was the Stud and Co-pilot's first married Christmas.
I could tell you that we spent our few days there stuffed to capacity with adventures, museums, outings, and dinners out. But we didn't. We went to the farmer's market for produce for our Christmas feast, did some light shopping, and spent the bulk of our time at home. I would not have had it any other way. We hunkered down into the sofa, using the arctic temperatures and snowy terrain as an excuse to stay inside. The four of us kids talked incessantly, getting to know each other again. My heart delighted in how natural it felt having Mr.F and The Co-pilot there. The four of us found a stride together that left me with visions of us in middle-age enjoying similar relationships.
This Christmas was short, but perfect. Full of nostalgia as I wandered through my childhood home for the first time in over a year. It was the first time I saw real snow since my wedding day and my first time enjoying a northern winter in just as long. My memories forgot to remind me of how slow the sun was to wake up and how quick it was to fall back asleep. How the light would hover in the south, never really making it to a true east-west path. Pedestrians wore puffy coats and thick boots while cars donned a thick layer of salt and mud. The wind and the damp cold pierced you to the core but a warm fire and cuddly sweater made it all wroth while.
Atlanta feels like a tropical oasis now that we're back. I find myself missing the sharp wind and the creaky floorboards of my old home. But it was so nice to return to more family waiting for us, visitors in a week, and promise of more soon.
I could tell you that we spent our few days there stuffed to capacity with adventures, museums, outings, and dinners out. But we didn't. We went to the farmer's market for produce for our Christmas feast, did some light shopping, and spent the bulk of our time at home. I would not have had it any other way. We hunkered down into the sofa, using the arctic temperatures and snowy terrain as an excuse to stay inside. The four of us kids talked incessantly, getting to know each other again. My heart delighted in how natural it felt having Mr.F and The Co-pilot there. The four of us found a stride together that left me with visions of us in middle-age enjoying similar relationships.
This Christmas was short, but perfect. Full of nostalgia as I wandered through my childhood home for the first time in over a year. It was the first time I saw real snow since my wedding day and my first time enjoying a northern winter in just as long. My memories forgot to remind me of how slow the sun was to wake up and how quick it was to fall back asleep. How the light would hover in the south, never really making it to a true east-west path. Pedestrians wore puffy coats and thick boots while cars donned a thick layer of salt and mud. The wind and the damp cold pierced you to the core but a warm fire and cuddly sweater made it all wroth while.
Atlanta feels like a tropical oasis now that we're back. I find myself missing the sharp wind and the creaky floorboards of my old home. But it was so nice to return to more family waiting for us, visitors in a week, and promise of more soon.
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