Jet Lag is in the Air

Uhhh.

You’d think that after one week of radio silence, I would be able to come up with a more eloquent opening line. In my defense though, “uhhh” is the perfect summation of my brain after these punch-drunk bumblebee days. I touched down on Italian soil last Monday morning just long enough to get my luggage and hurry out to the car where I was immediately swept up in the precious whirlwind of family life. In keeping with time-honored traditions, both girls had cultivated elaborate winter colds, so they stayed home from school all week to kiss my kneecaps while I cleaned. I didn’t mind.

But about cleaning… Jet lag didn’t throw off my sleep schedules this time so much as it did my seasons. Or maybe all those hours spent basking in the 85° sunscape of Miami-bound traffic were to blame. Either way, my spring cleaning instincts jumpstarted, and I was compelled beyond all reason or persuasion to organize the medicine cabinets that first day home. The second day, the oven needed to be scrubbed, and we had company the third evening, so the dust bunnies lurking behind the credenza had to go. If you want the truth, my noble blogging intentions have gone unheeded simply because I’ve been so busy finding inaccessible corners of the house to clean.

Ah well. (No apologizing, notice!) I had promised myself a week to regain my footing here at home, and though I didn’t necessarily expect that footing to take place on a step ladder with a feather duster in my hand and a delighted little girl swinging from each leg, I still say it counts. Plus, what else is a gal supposed to do after toting spring across the ocean in her carry-on?