It always feels nice to come home after a long yet fulfilling trip away. Even if we are still climbing out from underneath all of the (clean) laundry piles that are begging to be put away. And our refrigerator is a bit sparse. It is good to be home.

Oliver clearly loved that flying aspect of the trip because it has reignited his love for his planes. He has been carefully lining them up and sending them off to various destinations. Some that we have been to like Chicago and Whistler and Michigan. But then he throws in Mexico and Spain. Perhaps he is telling us something about our next destination?

Huck overall proved to be a good little traveler and has adjusted to being home fairly smoothly. We have had a couple of crazy nights but then he will sleep through the night (or close to it) and all is forgiven. He has also been able to entertain himself for small pockets of time. This is amazing and something that as a baby Oliver never did. But set Huck up with a pile of blocks his favourite book and I have a few minutes to make a coffee, do some dishes or (gasp) use the potty on my own (isn't motherhood glamorous).

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