Back to Life, Back to No-Shopping-Sunday Reality

I recently returned from my whirlwind solo-trip back to the U.S. for my little sister's wedding. The trek there involved waking up at 3 a.m., showering and a little crying, waking my baby to feed her then putting her down and some more crying, and finally boarding a 7 a.m. plane to Amsterdam, followed by an 11 a.m. flight to Detroit. Splice in spending just gobs more time than anyone should in the airplane bathroom to pump breast milk followed by renting a car that seemingly weighed less than I do for a 200+ mile drive, and then I'd arrived. It was well worth it.

The bride was radiant, and family and friends abounded. And there were just enough wedding snafus to keep life interesting. Flower-lady extortion, one whodunnit, a rogue disc jockey (oh, Johnny. No one can can put a leash on you.), and a wedding shower held in a room called the "Adult Lounge" (not as sexy as it sounds, but let's pretend it was). It was a fantastic weekend that none of the guests will soon forget.

After the wedding, my cousin and I stopped at Birch Run Outlets to go shopping. Germany is not a place to shop, unless you hate money and love to see it go. My Icelandic cousin had even more to gain by the savings. I think I saw those cartoony dollar signs flash in her eyes a couple times. As we were pulling in she said "How late do you think it will be open on a Sunday?" I sighed contentedly and answered "Oh, plenty late." And then I hummed My Country 'Tis of Thee while I ordered from a Starbucks in English.

I only had a few hours on Monday before I headed to the dentist and then the airport for my return home. Just enough time to see a few of my favorite things, including my friend Jen, the Natural Food Patch health store, and Pinwheel Bakery (vegan cookies... omg so good), all pictured above. After my teeth cleaning, which I begged and pleaded to schedule since I am petrified of any dentist but my own, I dropped off my tin can of a rental and headed home. Suffering only a minor psychological meltdown when my flight was delayed in Amsterdam, I eventually arrived home on Tuesday with plenty of time to see little e and even try on her new Icelandic galoshes. The trip didn't exactly quell my homesickness, but seeing your baby after a week away makes you forget such cares really quickly.