After spending 2 years living on the rugged coast of Northeastern Scotland, a job now takes us to Fairbanks Alaska. Originally from Oregon, I am a writer, a mother, an aspiring frontier woman, a nostalgia junkie, and a book addict. I call myself a trailer wife, which refers to the state of a person (most often a woman) who is caught up in the professional trajectory of their spouse. This blog will chronicle my journey between two places I never, ever, imagined I'd call home.
DAY TWELVE: Going Home
Traveling in December is never a walk in the park. Traveling with a disgruntled toddler on a two-stop red eye is something else again. But the prospect of my doting family, a warm seat by a crackling fire, eggnog and bourbon appearing like magic in my hand, and half a dozen ready and willing babysitter made the trip a bit easier to bear.
This was Gus at 11:00 PM on Friday night. Stoic, playing it cool, putting all the other night-flying babies to shame.
And this was around 11:06PM. It remained his general expression for the next 6 hours.
At 4:00 PM on Saturday (after 4 hours of sleep) Julie, Patty and I wait to surprise the socks off of Heidi, who has No Idea we have flown home for Christmas.
I will not quote Heidi on her first words upon seeing us (they are not suitable for family blogging), but let's just say, she was really F-ing surprised.
After adding our stocking to the family mantle, we are ready for the big show.
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