Rehashing Turkey Day

Woke up at 6. Fed baby and shoved him to my husband's side of the bed. Aaaahhh. Woke up at 8.
Clothedchildrenpackedbagsloadedvehicle. Road trip nazi nearly apoplectic as I tried to fill the travel CD case with something other than Kenny Rogers and Neil Diamond. Raced to brother-in-law's Flathead Lake house. Ate ate ate ate ate ate. All day. Without stopping or breathing. Slept fitfully, as somehow Madeleine took off her pants and underwear in the middle of the night and ended up upside down next to me in the ginormous guest bed. Woke. Ate ate ate ate ate again until just past nauseous, then raced home. This is why I am now sitting in my bathrobe with a towel on my head and a big hunk of pumpkin pie and some tea. Baby is asleep, drunk on Gripe Water, Madeleine is at a football game with her dad. And I am decompressing.

And then here's how they spent their holiday in Baghdad. I'm sorry to those of you serving in Iraq. You should not be subjected to this.