A just got back from driving my parents to the airport. My mom had been here three weeks, my dad four days.
We are going to miss the 2:1 adult/child ratio. A lot. While they were here, we ate real dinners and real breakfasts and real lunches every single day. Things stayed clean. Plants stayed watered. Increasingly needy two-year-olds and seemingly mellow newborns alike had their needs and more met without interruption. I even got to take a couple of baths per day.
Many times over the past few days, I’ve thought Now, how would this be going if it were only A and I here? Or if it were only me? and not had a really good answer. I guess we’re about to find out. It’s been a couple of hours, and so far the house hasn’t exploded. (One or both kids have been sleeping the whole time, though.)
Fortunately, we’ve got a lot of stuff planned for the next several days: Dinner with a friend, a two-day trip to A’s mom’s place, and (heh) a wedding on Sunday afternoon. So at least we won’t have a ton of time to sit around and think about what a mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. I even think it’s a bit of a relief to have the house a little emptier and Ingrid (I hope) a little less hyped up than she was with all the grandparents in attendance.