The entries that might have been (or: where I've been all week)

It is amazing how a week can slip away this time of year without presenting even a second to do something as simple as posting a blog entry.

If I'd had the time, I would have posted long, enthusiastic accounts of our visit with my parents. I would have waxed elloquent about the way my kids fell into step with their grandparents as if they'd never been apart and I would have described our outings and adventures in full detail. I would have talked about why the slide installation at the Tate Modern is a can't miss and why trying to "swing by and check out the Eye" on the only clear, sunny Saturday in months is an exercise in futility. I'd probably even have written about how you don't know how "New York" you are until you've seen Avenue Q with a theater full of Londoners. But I was too busy having fun to write any of those things.

If I'd had the time, I would have written about the way I feel when holiday cards arrive in the post each day, about how comforting it is to see the familiar faces of people we love hanging on our wall and about how many times I've nearly burst into tears upon seeing how much our friends' children have grown and changed without us there to witness it. I would have added a note of relief that, although Evan does not even recognize our New Jersey house in pictures any more ("but THIS is our home," he cried the other day when I tried to explain why the yellow house he couldn't remember was so important), he has happily identified every child whose holiday photo has arrived to date. Alas, not a moment to write that entry either, but thanks for the cards and letters anyway, folks.

If I'd had the time, I would have dutifully recorded all of the Chanukah stories and posted pictures from the first few nights of the holiday. I would have written about the giant room stickers my parents bought the kids which finally transformed their bedrooms, as Julia aptly described it, "from grownup rooms to real kid rooms," and I would have told some funny stories about the hours the kids and I have spent trying to re-do each others' handiwork in pursuit of our vastly differing ideas of decorating perfection. I'd have written about the kids' faces when Paul and I rode into the room on their brand new scooters and about their first amusing efforts at mastering their new rides. I'd probably even have squeeed in an entry wondering aloud about why my kids can express unbridled and vociferous delight at a gift from their aunt and uncle one minute and be yet rendered utterly mute two minutes later when presented the opportunity to thank the gift givers via webcam. Unfortunately, those entries will exist only in my imagination.

If I'd had the time, I would have posted a photo montage of Paul's first (and please, dear God, second-to-last) experience with an artifical Christmas tree. I would have written about how it took some adjusting to having a Chirstmas tree in my home when Paul and I first started living together, but I've grown to love the smell of fresh fir in my home and the festive sight of the lights and ornaments. I'd have observed that it would have made no sense to buy a tree this year just so it could die when we were out of town and expressed a little surprise about the fact that Paul seemed so aghast at the idea of having no tree at all. Then I'd probably have commented that buying Ikea must be the gateway drug to making el-cheap-o decorating decisions across the board because Paul came home lugging a big artificial monstrosity this weekend. And finally, I would have posted all those funny pictures I took of him assembling that silly plastic tree. It might have been a great entry, but at the rate I'm going now, it'll probably be St. Patrick's Day before I even download them from the camera.

Yes, I'm too busy to blog. But life has been full of family and friends and holiday festivities. Tomorrow, we leave for Paris for 5 days of adventure that I've not yet had a chance to research or even consider (probably not the wisest course in a country whose language I do not even passibly speak). We'll be back for Christmas and New Year's, then off again to Edinburgh for a few days (no plans there as yet either, but at least they speak English even if I can't understand a word they say). Lord knows when I'll actually have the time to blog all of this fun and excitement. But when I do, oh, the stories I'll be able to tell...