The last couple of weeks have been chock full of holiday madness, computer malfunctions, and a general lack of inspiration. However, since my New Year’s resolution was to become more disciplined as a writer and try to add to my blog more regularly, I want to produce at least SOME small-scale literature. So I’ll recount the big event of the last few days: the Chicago trip.
My son Sage and I traveled to Chicago with my mom and stepdad to visit my brothers and their wives; my brother Dan and sister-in-law Megan generously gave my husband a birthday buddy by producing a baby to share his Special Day. One of the mission’s primary objectives was to see this conveniently timed new arrival. The baby is tiny, adorable, and very willing to share her artistic diaper productions with the world. Looking from the infant to my four year old son, I felt profound gratitude that A) both children were healthy and B) the diaper days were behind me.
Sage and I stayed with my brother Jeff and sister-in-law Tami. After we finally returned from a wild New Year’s night of playing Apples to Apples at Dan and Megan’s apartment, I was also grateful for the air mattress they’d been obliged to inflate using a car-powered air pump, then drag up three flights of stairs for Sage’s and my sleeping comfort. Jeff and Tami, your sacrifice was not in vain! (I would also like to note that although Jeff is a Wisconsin boy from a modestly sized town, he’s adapted unnervingly well to city driving. I’m convinced, based on the trips he chauffeured between his apartment and Dan’s, that he would make a viable NASCAR driver if he decides to supplement his cartooning income by exploring new career paths.)
I visited two of my beloved but long-lost college friends; I hadn’t seen Janet since she undertook the arduous task of making me fashionable during a shopping trip while I was pregnant. She’d only seen my son when he was a mere belly bump, and I hadn’t seen her two boys at all. We had to probe even further into the past’s murky depths to figure out when Heather and I had last seen each other. The long years of separation didn’t seem to matter, though. Reuniting with them had the almost magical feel of finding a long-forgotten treasure in an obscure corner and suddenly realizing that my life is much fuller than I’d understood it to be. Even so, I’m hoping that I won’t go another five years before I see them again.