And I guess we sort of robbed ourselves (of sanity) and plan to take off, like we do every Christmas week. But, never fear, since I live with my mother and a gaggle of pets, this house is not empty for any thieves, except us.
Every Christmas week we head to Ohio. The only exceptions were when I was on bedrest when I was pregnant with Chloe (she was born 1/24 after a month of impending preeclampsia) and when Nicholas was born in mid December. Both times there was some shock at our lack of travel—but, you know, birth has always interrupted Christmas. It’s a thematic thing and I love a good theme.
Our children look forward to Christmas in Ohio every year. It is the only time they truly get to feel an immediate part of the big extended family there. I look forward to it as well—I’ve been making trips to Ohio since I was 17 years old and just the girlfriend. I adore my husband’s parents. My kids are so blessed to have them as grandparents and while the distance makes the day to day interactions difficult; the time spent with them for a few weeks a year is golden. They are really good grandparents and moreover, wonderful in-laws.
I will say that my husband’s family tries to be very orderly. They are certainly not boring; but they have a certain organization about them that the Adkins of New Jersey simply do not possess. I laugh to myself every year when I think about the chaos we left here and the chaos we will bring right to their doorsteps. We are loud and opinionated and hungry and very honest. I also suspect we leave trails of glitter and madness; but this is survival.
How else would we find our way there and back each year?
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