shit, you know, happens

Last week I woke up to a text from my mom, sent at 5 am. My granddad was in the ICU with stroke symptoms and some internal bleeding.

24 hours later, Ryan, Chicken, Buster, and I boarded a flight home.

Thank God, my granddad is improving every day and will hopefully be discharged tomorrow. But between the travel, 2 babies, visiting family and friends, and making sure my grandparents have everything they need, blogging has definitely slid down the priority list.

And not just in terms of the minutes in my day. Yes, blogging time has been spent cooking and visiting cousins. But more importantly, I am simply not putting the events of my day in the context of "how would this be engaging to my 12-14 readers and that guy in Russia?"

And I'm really fine with that. I hope you are too. Because all too soon we will return to our regularly scheduled programming of me thinking about how I can sculpt Chicken's twoness and Buster's babyness and Ryan's husbandness and my Katieness into something entertaining and possibly insightful. For now, I'm going to log off and join the chaos in the kitchen, where 15 people have gathered, every stove burner is going, and every chair has a glass in front of it.

I'm going now.

But first I'm going to post a picture of Chicken eating bark.


Happy Monday.

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