I'm sitting outside by a roaring fire...alone for the first time in weeks and having mixed feelings about it.
The girls are skiing with friends. The boys are skiing with friends. I've been accidentally, I'm sure, stood up by my husband for a ski date.
I'm not all that sad about being stood up. Don't tell anyone, but I truly hate skiing. My two biggest reasons are that it's a mother's logistical nightmare and I'm afraid of killing myself.
I don't fear death as much as I fear a slow, painful frozen death that doesn't completely kill me, but leaves me in traction with no brain function.
That being said, I'm all geared up and ready to go, and happily sitting by the fire with my iPhone. If you see my man on the slopes, tell him I'm waiting...or not.