Wow. I have sat down to post something twice since we got back from our crazy two weeks of getting-married, having-a-(too-short)-honeymoon, driving-back-to-PA. I kept erasing what I was writing, I think because there is so much to say. How do I choose what from the last three weeks of intensity to write on? Although I almost feel like I need to pick something light and funny to give myself a break from all the madness. I am MARRIED. What does that even mean? I'm starting to wonder. I am so happy for it. And so exausted, still, that I hardly have the capacity to think on it for more than the few seconds it takes to glance down and remember I have *two* rings on now.
We arrived back in PA on Sunday night, after a solid three days of driving (barely missing the storms in Tennesee.) We didn't even unpack the car before heading over to Monkey and Turtle's house (who are now walking just fine, thank you, at barely ten months *sigh*) as their Mom had to go out of town for a few days. Nanny Team To The Rescue. Monday, my graduate classes started. Tuesday, I had to begin dealing with make-up work from missing two weeks of community college classes. Yes, they are ridiculously easy. No, that does not making catching up easy at all. Especially when one professor is a tyrant worthy of a Dickens novel. But more on him later. Poor Peter is working six days a week, still. Tuesdays, his bad days, today, start at 5.30 AM and don't end until around 6. And he's got class to catch up on as well. (yes, easy. no, not *that* easy.)
I woke up with him at 5am to finish some papers and make up work for various classes, and just e-mailed the last two (for today) in. The babies have not woken from their morning nap yet. I am holding my breath.
I was hoping we could get back, unwrap presents, settle into our apartment. I imagined we'd have time to start watching movies at night, again (we've had the same three from Netflix since February.) I imagined we'd start cooking (correction: Peter would start cooking) like we(he) did before the "W" word (no, not bush) took over our lives. No such luck. The movies are still unwatched - we can't get to the TV for the unpacking still piled in the livingroom. And we've been subsisting primarily on Easy-Cheese and ButterMints from a thoughtful basket my aunt gave us for our honeymoon.
But I make it sound so awful. It is not. I love Peter. I love being married to him, I love our life, as un-ideal as it seems when looked at from the wrong angle. My graduate classes are fascinating, the toddler-tornado is delightful, we spent last Sunday hiking up to FlatRock and it was perfect and beautiful Nyssa has been in a coma (thankfully) for two days from the effort. Our apartment is cheap, with a view of the mountain and the ancient Susquehanna River. Alaska is less than three months away, now.
And Monkey is awake ...