You've been missed.

Dear blogger and blogging friends.  Why hello you.  I've missed you.  I know I've been AWOL for some time now, but know that it has nothing to do with any ill-will.  In fact, I was on a fabulous vacation that involved a multi-day road trip with my two little ones (one of which apparently HATES road trips), delicious dinners, and spotty internet connections at best.  When I returned this afternoon after mornings spent on the beach, afternoons at the pool, evenings laughing with family, and two days in the car I was greeted by 50+ sweet blog entries to read and a yard full of infectious crab grass.  Can you guess which of the two I was happier to see?

Dear Super Road Tripping Two-Year-Old.  I'm so proud of your great attitude and ease of traveling.  Your terrible parents had the nerve to forget your very best friends, "Bear" and "Monkey" in their rush to leave the house.  As we drove through Indiana, Kentucky, and Virginia, Bear and Monkey were left behind clutching each other in a big hug on the floor of our dining room.  Yet you didn't skip a beat.  Instead you improvised with a traveling head pillow with a lion head.  I didn't even have to break out your beloved "Cars" movie until the third day of our traveling.  If only your brother could be so entranced by such simple pleasures.  All I had to do is pack some little cars and car books from the dollar store, and feed you promises of days filled with Grandpa and CeCe and you were happy as a clam.  And the best part?  The best part was the glorious reunion of the three amigos today when we pulled into the driveway and walked in the door and how you wouldn't let them leave your side for even the briefest moment....not during lunch, not during your bath, and DEFINITELY not during bedtime stories.

Dear Mr. Smiley Pants (a.k.a. Road Trip Hater).  I'm on to you little boy.  You, with your cough-cry in the back seat as we hit heavy traffic in North Carolina, with your refusal to sleep through West Virginia.  I know exactly what you're pulling.  The minute I pull you out of your car seat you start smiling and don't stop until you hear the dreaded snap of a buckle that inevitably locks you into carseat jail.  It wouldn't be such a big deal, except that you are so stinkin' smiley every other minute of the day.  Your so busy smiling that sometimes you can't find time to eat or play.  You're just too busy smiling.  Unless we're making a cross-country trek through the mountains.  Apparently there is NOTHING to smile about in the mountains.... until we stop at the Dairy Queen in the middle of the mountains where I try unsuccessfully to nurse you because you are so busy smiling at the woman in the car next to us in the parking lot, or every other patron at the DQ that has been subjected to your electric charm and toothy grin.