48 Hours

I've been home for around 48 hours. Busy hours.

Thanksgiving morning:
4am wake up. Dressed and on the road by 4:30. Lisa woke the girls up and we all went down to the airport. Dropped off by bag. Hugged Elsa and told her I loved her. Kissed Elena's soft chubby cheeks. Hugged Samuel and Lisa. Lisa keeps telling me how much she's going to miss me. It's only six weeks.

Breezed through security. Stood in line for coffee for more time than I spent at security. Watched the sunrise from the airport windows. Boarded the plane and slept or watched movies. Finally landed. Between the ten minutes to deice the place in Nashville and waiting for other planes to get to our gate, I was going antsy. I wanted to be home. To see the family I hadn't seen for three months.

Back of the plane, so within the last 20 people to get off the plane. Slowest set of three opening doors one after another while leaving the secure part of the airport. I could see Dad and the doors took like 4 seconds each to open. Long traffic ridden drive home, but it was good to catch up with Dad.

The chaos of entering a house with seven adults of teenagers compared to my other home, quiet with just two adults and two babies. There were literally times where I couldn't keep up with the conversations because it was bouncing around so much. The process of finishing dinner, taking a family picture and catching up with people was fun. Dishes by hand until the kitchen was clean. Succeeded in counting calories during Thanksgiving dinner. Skype call with my Little Fuji Family. This was followed by three really dumb movies before I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.

Welcome allergies. Cats, dogs, mold... Puffy, itchy eyes, runny nose, trouble breathing. It's going to be a hard transition in that sense. But I'll get used to it.

Friday was minor shopping for necessities that I didn't bring back from Tennessee, watching ridiculously dumb movies, catching up with the Rothenbergers and some gift shopping online....

The past 48 ish hours have been way busier than a couple weeks in Tennessee, but it's a good busy.

Socks and Hands

This morning was spent tidying my cluttered room. After lunch, working out and relaxing while Elsa napped, I put her in the backpack. We had garbage to take care of again. I did that, which was a great additional work out with a twenty-five pound baby strapped to your back and stairs with garbage bags in hands. We also took down the holiday lights from the back porch and pulled out all the staples as well. It was fun.

Elsa was so cute today, she kept trying to put one of her little socks on my foot. She learned the word recently and every time I wear then, she says it. Needless to say, it didn't quite fit my entire foot...

I would also appreciate prayer for my hand. Almost five years ago I got a bleach burn on my right hand and ever since I've had troubles with eczema, hand dermatitis and allergies since I have fewer layers of skin there. My hand is swollen, tender and itchy and cuts really easily. I scratched it in my sleep last night until it bled, I've got it wrapped up tonight, but in the past I have ripped off all the tape and gauze in my sleep (talented, I know). Anyways, it's no fun and there's not a lot I can do about it. I've noticed that when I get stressed it get's worse, but I'm not stressing about anything now, so I think it must have something to do with the weather changes we're going through.

Anna calls it my leprosy hand. Everyone says I should amputate -- at the neck just to be safe. Zombie hand. Mummy hand, "is it contagious?" ... All still a more accurate diagnosis then both my dermatologists (who, I'm pretty sure, dig up dinosaurs remains, but claim to be skin doctors) gave me...

It does kinda obscure my fingerprints on that hand... *laughs evilly*

Anyways, I've convinced (pranked) too many people that I got into a fight and this is the result. I even went as far once as to say I broke 'his' nose and just bruised my knuckles a little. The weed smoking, sketchy, failing-the-class high schooler (who was hitting on me at the time) totally believed me (and stopped hitting on me, hhmmmmm....) When I tried to really explain what had happened, he definitely had a hard time believing.

It's a good way for me to turn to God and ask Him to heal my hand. <3