When we decided to move to Colorado, I promised my mom we would come to Seattle for Christmas. I knew it would be a pain in the ass, but I also knew it would be worth it. I booked a night flight out of Denver on Saturday and an early morning flight out of Seattle on Wednesday. The only thing that stood between us and the Denver airport was a 4-hour drive.
That was all.
Guess who got to sit in the back and entertain this fellow?
That's right. ME.
Actually, it wasn't so bad. Eventually, he did fall asleep. Though, Hazel never did. (Instead, she proceeded to enter full melt-down mode once we were on the plane, kicking the seat in front of her and slamming the tray up and down. Given the choice between taking a 4-year-old and a 4-month-old on the plane, I'll take the 4-month-old EVERY DAMN TIME.)
Hey, the views were nice on the way to Denver.
Once we started entering the suburbs of Denver, Brian and I both looked at each other and remarked how incredibly happy we are to live where we do. Screw suburbs. I mean, maybe they're the right thing for you, but not for us. We like the complete lack of commute and having all of our amenities within a 5-minute bike ride. We like running and riding out of our back door and riding the free bus to the ski area with zero traffic (every time I hear about traffic up the I70 corridor to Summit County, I shudder.). We like our expansive views from town.
Yeah, we're snobs. But we know what we like. And we know that we are beyond fortunate to live where we do. Trust me, we know. We just have zero desire to add in daily commutes and traffic in to our lives.
Here's what you really care about anyway, right? This oh-so-perfect picture of our family. Tygh is really in to it, as you can tell. And Hazel looks kind of creepy. We work with what we have.
Brian's Christmas present from me. Yes, this is all he got.
(That's Crested Butte, in case you didn't know. We are there a lot.)
During our whirlwind trip to Seattle, we spent time with my family, hung out at my parents' fancy gym and chillaxed. It was a damn good time. Before we even knew what was happening, we were up at 4am on Wednesday for an insanely early flight back to the mile high city. The kids then proceeded to sleep for the entire 4-hour drive back to Gunny, as they should. Early morning flights For The Win.
And that was Christmas. Phew.
