Another Walter Reed trip and a new use for con leave.

We have a complicated relationship with Walter Reed. Missy calls it abusive, and she might be right. As soon as you feel the perpetually gridlocked asphalt of Rockville Pike under your tires, your mind lets out whatever the mental version of a resigned sigh is, in the key of "here we go again..."

Although Seth would have been fine to just pop down for yet another surgical debridement, for some reason I was adamant that the kids and I make the trip. I hated the thought of missing a surgery, which I so far hadn't had to do, and it is important to me that the youngest Niemans know that Walter Reed- for better or for worse- is part of their lives too.

But first, office Thanksgiving, at which Finley had "just some litttttllleeee bit of pie" (four pieces) and Ford destroyed all of the table decorations.

Seth ended up being squeezed in first case Friday so we weren't there when he came out of surgery after all. Actually, thanks to 8 hours of traffic, a stop at a trampoline park in Pennsylvania to let the kids burn off some energy,

dinner and a dance party at a random Outback

where Finley ate the entire bread plate,

 and a 0200 eventual arrival at the Gateway Inn,

we didn't see Seth until the next morning. But he was thrilled to see his little monsters, Ford couldn't get enough Dad snuggles, and Finley pranced in the room singing "time for a check up!" with her Doc McStuffins stethoscope, so the long trip and absence of decent sleep was totally worth it.

It was a whirlwind weekend, but we did get a few minutes to enjoy our former home. I will always have a soft spot for Bethesda, and not just because it puts up Christmas lights almost as early as I do. (The photo on the right is from a hilarious trip to Pottery Barn Kids on Bethesda Row, where Ford attempted to shoplift this giant stuffed animal.)

We also got to hang out with the Carron Taylors, (always a treat) and Finley and Ford had a blast on the playground with Scott and Grace.

Plus we made a pilgrimage to Duck Donuts.

By Sunday, Seth was chomping at the bit to get out of there He practically leapt into his truck and sped off around noon, leaving me to a much longer trip with these two which included a stop at a filthy and terrible place in New Jersey called KidZ Village

where Ford discovered arcade music and whack-a-mole.

We eventually made it home, in time for baths, bed (for everyone else) and work email catchup until the wee hours (me). I treated myself to a morning of skipped PT and a Starbucks date with these two before tackling the mountain of laundry threatening to engulf us and heading in to work. Naturally, the week before Thanksgiving turns out to be a super nutty one in the office, so I'm burning the candle at both ends and counting down 'til Thursday.

Seth, on the other hand, is spending his convalescence hunting (pursuant to his handicapped hunting permit) from his truck. The man is unbelievable (in many, many ways, only some with which I am currently exasperated.)

The photo of the week is this goofy one. Finley loves hand-me-downs almost as much as we do.