Let Down

My sister Carrie and my two nephews Nico and Eli went home today. I have loads of posts (all in my head just now) about the fabulous week we've had--the birthday party, the baptism, the First Communion, the almost frog catching extravaganza. But I'm afraid I won't be able to write much until all the crap I've put off the last week is done. I literally had to dig my computer out from under a mountain of unwritten thank you notes and unopened mail just to type this. Not to mention the fact that my ebb and flow job is ebbing like crazy right now (enough in depth cost analysis to make someone far more mathy than me start to see double), my kids need a complete detox to come down from the permanent sugar high of cake-and-ice-cream events back to back to back, we all need to catch up on a dozen or so lost hours of sleep, and we may be eating leftovers for the next 6 months (due to a slight miscalculation on ham and white buns).

But for now, I'm tired. Lucy and Claire have been whining since Chad walked in the door (no judgement on him, just the inevitable awful timing of a punchy pre-schooler and a tired toddler), and I've been negotiating jolly ranchers vs. chicken as supper since Sam woke up from his dreaded late afternoon nap (will the boy ever go to sleep tonight?) Chad is coughing and cranky and I have little reserve to nurture much more than a nice glass of red wine right now (as if!) I'm feeling the inevitable and predictable let down I feel every time my beloved sister and her boys heads home to Texas. I know living the permanent vacation isn't reality, but it is so fun while it lasts, and so not fun to wrestle my way back into our hectic reality, especially when I let myself get behind like this.

Fear not, however. Mama Duck will return--maybe about the time we eat up the last of that ham. Fourth of July sounds about right...