I should be packing, but this will just take a minute.
We got back from Santa Fe on Saturday, after - as predicted - ALOT more shopping and ENDLESS amounts of eating. Even with the extra half-suitcase that Jeff so wisely accounted for, we still needed to pack a box. I tell you, that Sandra is a baaaad influence...
* The desert is dry. Santa Fe is in the mountains. Nosebleeds happen. Bring kleenex.
* If you go to a casino one day and win, don't expect it will happen again the next day.
* New Mexican food is really, really good. But try to lay off it a little the night before a looooong day of being trapped in a metal capsule.
* When it rains in the desert, it has the exact opposite effect on the general population as it does in more temperate regions. Read: elation.
* Toddlers don't respect manicures. They're going to want to touch your purple nails.
* If your toddler tells you that her belly is sore while riding in the car, DON'T proceed to feed her berries and yogurt.
Our flight home involved a stop in Chicago with no plane change. That made for 7 1/2 hours on a plane. With a toddler. E snacked and watched Toy Story on the first flight, then fell asleep while we taxied before take-off on flight number two and had to be woken up when we landed. True story. It was the most relaxing day I've had in months.
J and I have been the picture of determination in our efforts over the last two days to complete our packing. We're nearly there. Our wonderful friend Dr. N arrived this evening and insists on being shown the sights in the Big Apple before selflessly offering to drive our beloved daughter back to our native land. We will oblige him. And then on Friday, with mixed emotions, we will leave our tiny little apartment in our lovely corner of Brooklyn, and head for cooler, and most certainly greener, pastures.
I'll try to stop by the blog and throw up a picture or two before then, but please bear with me. Packing is a bitch.