The kids and I flew in from San Diego last night to spend Thanksgiving with Grandma and Grandpa in Westport, Connecticut. For the first time since The Babster was born, I felt comfortable enough to fly with all the kids without Mike and not feel like I might jump out those tiny aiplane windows to find peace through death.

Mike is flying out tomorrow to meet us because he needed to work a few more days so we can prep for the $123,506.23 Christmas season quickly approaching.

I marvel at how far I and his family have come since that first awkward meeting I wrote about in SWIRLING, to now, when these people are now “Mom and Dad,” and I’m “family.”