I don't think there's much to add to my title. We are back home. I appreciated my own bed more than ever last night. I appreciated my cute little house more than ever. Two weeks was fun, but two weeks became a little long with a one year old. Not that Brady was terrible, but I got a less sleep than I normally do these last two weeks.
We are happy to be back. I wish I wasn't as technologically challenged as I am so I could have blogged my whole trip. I just can't figure that out from a phone. Can anyone enlighten me on that?
So many things about traveling bring up memories of Ethan. I have shared quite of few of those. However, for me, the flight home and arriving home is the worst. I think it because I had just arrived home from out of town and three hours later I was rushing Ethan to the hospital. So, a flight home to me, brings back a flood of memories. I remember the book I read; I remember how my phone battery was dead so it took me longer to get a hold of Camie who was waiting with my kids to pick me up; I remember what I was wearing; I remember being so excited to see my kids but they were both sleeping. Its very strange to always think of that "last flight." I wonder if I'll always do that?
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