Of winter break that is. And today I am really, really sad about it. Despite the few days of birthday and Christmas craziness, it was a quiet and mellow two weeks. The kids slept in every single day (sometimes until 9 or later), we didn't leave the house much except to go skiing, and we just honestly relaxed.
It wasn't that long ago that Porter was starting kindergarten, and I was gratefully looking forward to how much easier my life would be when one of my children was at school for a big part of the day. And it is still easier in some ways when he isn't at home. But waking up before the dawn and dealing with lunches and homework and driving everyone around to their sports and social lives, that's exhausting too. A few weeks at home with my family and not much to do was just perfect. Maybe minus the part where we got a babysitter, and Porter threw up all over the floor.
I think it also means we are approaching the end of the baby years. The years of pregnancy and no sleep and little ones of constant need. I am seeing the future. And it looks pretty damn sweet.