Home means Nevada, home means the hills...home means binge drinking?

Chris and I ventured south for Martin Luther King's Day weekend for what we hoped would be a relaxing time to reconnect and hang with my parents. This plan was quickly foiled when my brother, James, and his girlfriend, Morgan, surprised us from Las Vegas! James and I don't see each other very often and so anytime an opportunity arises it's hard to pass up a short drive. Or I imagine it's hard to pass up a short drive. I've actually not surprised my brother at my parents' home, but I'll put it on my bucket list.

No surprise, the relaxing weekend became a time to celebrate all celebrations for which we were apart during the year. We had Christmas/Thanksgiving (I think that was the wine and yummy pork dinner), Memorial Day/4th of July/Labor Day (drinking large amounts of beer on the patio), New Year's Day (drinking in the morning-white russians and bloody marys), New Year's Eve (staying up too late, drinking), and baseball season (watching Major League while drinking, and actually creating a drinking game with the movie). We celebrated James's birthday in actuality as well, which was lovely.

Chris and I returned to Washington, tired, bloated and in need of detox. However, we were definitely smiling. That was some vacation.

Our day together OR Why the f*** did I ever think I liked to ski?

Chris and I were lucky enough to have this past Friday off together, and decided to go skiing...a past time we both claimed to enjoy from the early talks of our relationship, but one we had never actually experienced together. Now, we all joke about my obscene planning tendencies, but this husband of mine has a planning streak as well-and his happens to be a little more particular than mine. Consequently, he decided the location, prices, and of course, meal options far in advanced. It was a wet day of skiing, particularly for me, as I fell on every run except the last one. So frustrating. I need to ski more often, I suppose. Chris was lovely, patient, and helpful. Even when I had a full on nervous breakdown in the middle of a slope and a 12 year old asked me if I was okay. Just kidding, he actually laughed at me that time.

Our little Christmas

Our first little Christmas was fabulous. Attended the Children's Mass on Christmas Eve with our good friends the McBeavs and their adorable hunk of love, Keane. Thank God Keane attended, because he kept Chris entertained. Well, and vice versa. The four of us enjoyed a crab dinner with wine a-flowing while Keane sat in the living room, happy as a clam with our kitty Harvey. Such a good boy. He never once got fussy, just happy to be present.

Christmas morning was a melding of traditions for us. We woke up, popped the champagne and had cinnamon rolls while opening stocking stuffers (my family). Then we made our meat-i-licious Christmas breakfast before we opened any gifts. Killer. Lots of fun gifts, of which we still need to write our thank you notes. Working on it, I promise.

The rest of the day consisted mainly of sitting on the couch, drinking champagne until it was time to shower and head over to the McBeav's house for a tasty prime rib dinner (complete with Molly's fab jell-o mold) and Mama and Papa Beav. We did discover that all of us should enter a wine drinking contest because we are really good at it. Beav's wine/white russian combo did catch up to him, and eventually the evening was called to an end. A fabulous end, mind you.