And I always thought I was Phoebe.

I used to think that meal planning was something for other people to do. I was too good for it. Then I realized that meal planning is not actually a big deal, and just involves three to five minutes of sitting at the table before we go to the grocery store asking Karl what he wants to eat this week. My descent into adulthood is well on its way.

I heard myself tell Karl yesterday that Parker would be around to play with tomorrow, but the kitchen wasn't going to clean itself tonight. I know, I should get a freaking mom of the year crown. At least my kitchen's clean.

My blissful four day vacation back home wasn't nearly as relaxing as I envisioned, but it was still lovely. I crammed so much Christmas shopping, eating, visiting, and baby snuggling into those four days that it made up for the lack of downtime. I had a delusion that I would go for coffee (hot chocolate) with my book and just spend a couple hours in a coffee shop, alone, relaxed, at peace. Then when it came time for it, I had to decide on a solo trip or taking that drink to go and walking along the water with my parents. I can be alone at home, but the ocean and my parents don't come to Regina very often. And if Game of Thrones has taught us anything, it's that we really don't want the ocean coming to our landlocked homes.

I also enjoyed the now unfamiliar luxury of flying alone. The last time I took an airplane by myself was nearly three years ago, during the interview process for the job that brought us to Saskatchewan. This was much more relaxing. I had a giant bag of sweet and sour Skittles (my new favourite candy in the whole entire world) to keep me company and awake several hours past my bedtime. That and the very near presence of my seat mates on the teeny tiny plane. Our thighs touched regularly. It was not magical.

While I was gone Karl informed me that Parker was sleeping in at least an hour every day. I'm not sure how, but my son has gone from toddler to teenager over night. He slept 14 hours Sunday/Monday. This is not remotely normal, but considering my flight got in at 1 a.m., I got home at 2 a.m., and I couldn't fall asleep until 4 a.m. (WHYYY?), I fully embraced it. Sometimes you don't have to understand something to know that it's magic. Don't question magic.

Today I realized I had made a significant miscalculation and will not, in fact, have enough hours for my maternity leave. I almost had a panic attack. There were nearly tears. I had visions of myself dressed up as a pregnant elf at the mall, herding children onto Santa's lap to make my few remaining hours. Thankfully, my boss is amazing and going to let me put in extra hours (even though I'm not busy) to hit my goal. I will be bringing cookies into the office every day from now until the end of December to show my appreciation.

I am 90% done my Christmas shopping. All I have left to do is get Karl something, figure out stocking stuffers, and pop our Christmas cards and a couple packages in the mail. This is what happens when you see your family over a month before Christmas and won't again until February. I feel like such a Monica. It's terrifying being so on top of things, but also incredibly empowering. If I can conquer Christmas shopping over a month early, what else can I do? Make it through an entire episode of Call The Midwife without weeping? Look out, world, I'm coming for you.