Texas

The drive home this weekend was not nearly as bad as I'd anticipated, but that doesn't mean it didn't suck. We made it through the first 5 hours with absolutely no problem. At one point I turned to D and said "Heh, this is nothing! It's going by so quickly and we're making great time!". As soon as I shut my yap time proceeded to stand still. The last two hours felt like years. We grew tired and cranky and stiff and miserable. Thankfully, Ethan was amazing. He slept for the majority of the trip once the sun went down. We made it to my mom's house at around 11:30 p.m. Ethan perked up immediately upon arrival and charmed everyone with his newfound ability to clap his hands, showed off how he can pull up to standing with ease and demonstrated his driving passion to get his little hands on everything in his line of vision.

Friday my sister cut my hair. Two feet of frizzy, dead, NAPPY hair gone. Bu-bye! Carolyn worked her magic and turned my dramatically confused mop into a straight, sleek, short, shiny, layered, thinned Aniston-esque 'do. I was amazed. The best part is that it looks equally as good when I wear it curly and needs only a small amount of two products (2!!) to hold it's style and keep frizz at bay. I am pleased as pie.

BUT! I showered today and was given only a small window of time to copy exactly what my sis did. Ethan basically said "Look, I'll nap. But not for very long. You smell and are in need of a shower, dear mother. However, I cannot promise that you will have time to both blow-dry AND flat-iron your hair. That's really asking too much of me". I anticipated this and am still pleasantly pleased with the end result of the half-assed job I did. Horray! I never expected to be able to get my hair as straight as my sister did anyway. She, like every other good stylist I know, is magical. That's all there is to it. David Blaine has nothing on her.

The rest of the day was spent visting family and friends. On Saturday we had the pleasure of finally visiting my uncle's art studio. I've always adored his work and it was neat to see where the magic happens. (Again with the magic, I know.) On the way home from his studio I began feeling strangely nauseous. Things swiftly moved from nausea to "bowel issues". Fun! Also, D had been complaining of a scratchy throat and within hours he turned into a walking ball of phlegm, complete with an extra forceful cough to ensure that everything within a 10 mile radius was splattered with an even coating of mucus. D uses the "snot rocket" method of nose blowing which involves closing off one nostril and shooting snot out of the open nostril with a force so powerful that it chips sidewalks. No tissue necessary, as clearly there is nothing more enjoyable than blowing snot from your nose into the air at high speeds. Fascinating to watch. Also, highly revolting, especially when your husband is doing the blowing. At this point we really have no need for birth control.

Saturday night we hung out with my sister and her fiance at their new pad. We watched Artie Lang's standup dvd and grilled burgers. I tried to drink, I really did. I just wasn't into it. I was starting to get sick too. Sunday we woke up and both felt pretty bad. We were supposed to leave but couldn't bare the thought of sitting in a congested car for the ride home, snotting all over each other (and Ethan!), so we stayed an extra day. For those of you that didn't get to see us, you got lucky and you missed a whole lotta nothing special.

I hate to say it but I MISS TEXAS. I really, really do.