Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

It's Saturday night and after a week of traveling, my little family is finally back together. Pa returned from his European trip yesterday and even with an 11 hour plane ride, he still hadn't finished his midterm. So he spent an additional 8 hours behind closed doors and e-mailed everything to his professor 8 minutes to midnight last night. Talk about down to the wire!

Since we skipped the whole Valentines thing last week, Pa lavished me with chocolates from Spain and Holland and Mr. Na is now sporting a new red and blue horizontal-striped Barcelona Football jersey. I guess if he grows tired of soccer, he can always apply for a job at Hot Dog on a Stick.

Mr. Na and I had a gay ol' time in Nevada and though it's quite nice to come back to much needed sunny skies here, it's freezing cold. I went skiing up at Snow Summit yesterday and it was 21 degrees and windy. I froze my ass off but my new skis are just like buttah!

Mr. Na was just fascinated by Las Vegas. From the moment we walked off the plane, he zeroed in on the slot machines saying, "But Momma, these are my favorite games. Why can't I play with them?" And then as we waited for our luggage, he was mesmerized by the gigantic plasma screens touting the Blue Man Group. As we made our way across town, he begged me to go on the rollercoaster that looped around the outside of New York New York, but instead settled for the kiddie rides inside the "Adventuredome" at Circus Circus.

Pappy's place is a haven outside of the nastiness of Vegas, and we enjoyed the relaxing pace; but it just amazes me every time I go out there because it seems like soon enough the city will sprawl out to Hoover Dam. Why my Dad ever chose Vegas as a place to retire, I'll never know. But hey, to each his own, right?

Anyway, time for a chocolate fix and some snuggle time with the boys. I leave you with Lessons Learned This Week:

Do not attempt to run the same pace at an elevation of 2400 feet as you would at an elevation of 14 feet. It's really hard.

It's always a good idea to bring feminine (ahem) supplies with you on a 15 mile run during your period. The Jack in the Box on Aurora and 85th does not have a tampon machine and the AM PM Mini Market across the street does not have a public bathroom.

Never buy a model Northwest Airlines airplane for your 3.5 year-old. Unless, of course, you want to see it completely destroyed within 24 hours.

Just because a novel is listed in Time Magazine's "All-Time 100 Novels" list doesn't necessarily mean you're going to enjoy it. (I'm just t-r-u-d-g-i-n-g through Saul Bellow's The Adventures of Augie March.)

Some time during your parenting years you WILL shout "BECAUSE I SAID SO" to your child. It sucks, you will hate it, but it's inevitable--so don't be surprised when it happens.