In case you hadn’t figured it out from my cryptic Twittering last week, Steve packed up the kids and left me alone by myself. FOR A WHOLE WEEK. BY. MY. SELF. As they pulled away, I cried for about the first 27 seconds or so, then looked around and realized that this? This right here was what I have spent the last 5 years pining for, and that I had better shut it, and get with the program. So I laid on the couch for a while. Then, that got boring so I got to work painting. And painting I did, for the entire week. Even going so far as to cut out of work early a couple of days because painting ceilings is THE DEVIL’S WORK.
They, on the other hand, frolicked in the snow and, from what I could gather from Steve’s text messaging, managed to fit in their fair share of marshmallows tater tots, fishsticks and orange flavored Sunkist. Fair enough, considering I consumed nothing but Brio bread and Wildberries’ deli food the entire week. I never even turned on the stove. Not once.
One of the highlights of the week was that Steve and my mom took Stella up the hill for her first official ski lesson. I wish so much that I could have been there to witness the splendor of it all, but I rested safe in the knowledge that Steve was threatened with bodily harm if he did not take an OBSCENE amount of photos of the whole event. He did not disappoint.