The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Despite my wishin' and hopin' for the opposite, it appears that our "vacation" down to my parents house has come to an end. At least the "vacation" portion of it, that is. (and by "vacation" I mean any possibility of fun whatsoever...) In a few short hours we will be packing up our bags and making the treacherous trek back to Lubbock via I-45 and I-20. I think I'll take a few Advil now to prepare myself for the onslaught of pain that will most definitely ensue in my head during said road trip.

But for the most part, this has been a delightful trip. Nothing says "the holidays" like shopping, eating, lounging, movie-watching, mass attending, and relaxing. All of which I was blessed to be able to do. And I must admit, though it's always fun to be able to give and receive gifts, there's nothing quite like getting to spend a little quality time with family. That's definitely The Good of Travelling with the Asmussens. One aspect I most certainly will never get tired of is getting to see the joy on my parents' faces as they interact with the boys. As previously mentioned, I sometimes get blinded by the stress of chasing two babies and end up missing some of the most precious moments with these guys. Something about grandparenting gives them the grace to truly cherish every little second with Kolbe and Reagan. Maybe it's that they only get to see them from time to time. And maybe it's that they're just a little head-over-heals in love. And while being an adult and a mother and a wife feel so natural to me now, I can't help but also enjoy the ability to come home and be a daughter once again.

But, oh! The Bad! Last year at this time when we came down for Christmas, I was a sluggish six months pregnant and had a feisty thirteen month old. Throw in a staircase, a festively decorated house, and a winter cold (for Kolbe). At times it was literally a recipe for disaster. I remember asking myself Am I really going to be able to do this next year with two!?! But as for Kolbe, I wish I knew then what I know now. I certainly wouldn't have worried as much. Kolbe can now maneuver the staircase quite well, knows not to touch the decorations, and sleeps through the most annoying of sounds.

Including those produced by his brother. (I just dropped a few more Advil into my mouth at the thought...) Reagan, Reagan, Reagan. I sure do love that kiddo, but he's definitely associated with The Bad for this trip. Don't get me wrong. Yes, he did pull all kinds of items off of every surface in the house, broke a beloved heirloom of my parents', and forced us to use baby gates for the stairs. But that wasn't even The Bad part! Heck, he's ten months old; we didn't expect him to be perfect. The nightmare occurred precisely when most nightmares come...at night. I don't know if it was the strange room we all slept in, the absence of his comfort noises that he has at home (humidifier and heater), or the impending protrusion of his left front tooth that caused the breakdown, but I do know that it resulted in between a mere 3 and 6 hours of sleep for me each night.

Seriously, people. I do better at home.

The initial wake-up usually occurred around midnight...and then every thirty minutes to two hours there after. And these weren't "newborn" wake-ups where I could just nurse him and he'd fall right back asleep. These were full blown scream fests that had no rhyme or reason. To add, he would crank the scream up a notch if it was anyone holding him except for me! A few times I found myself asking, Is The Good really worth The Bad? Sheesh. I'm here on a vacation...not to torture myself! Or him, for that matter! Needless to say, there is one reason I'm anxious to get back to Lubbock: to get Reagan back on his normal sleep routine. At least I have the peace of mind of knowing that, should we be able to make the journey again next year, both he and Kolbe will be at the age where this shouldn't be a problem. Lord willing.

And The Ugly. Something I'd rather not discuss but suppose in all honesty, I must. Every year at this time, both Mark and I manage to cave in one specific area. Food. Could it be the strategically placed candy bowls that cry out to me from eye or hand level? The favorite Woodlands restaurants that we just have to go to? The over-sized tin of candy-coated popcorn? The endless supply of my beloved Coca Cola? In fact, it's all of them. And I just can't say no. Unfortunately, by the end of basically every night that we've been here, my stomach has been more than eager to say no. I found myself asking as I tossed and turned uncomfortably in bed, Why did I eat so much today!?! Really, I should practice more self-control... but it just all looks so good! And besides, someone has to eat that last chunk of summer sausage...