I don’t like writing long posts. If you’re anything like me, when you see a blog post that could fill a book my immediate thought is, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!” and switch back to watching cat videos on YouTube.

But a lot has happened in the past couple of weeks. Instead of telling you in one large post, I’m going to divide it up into parts.

Michael and I decided to run away for Christmas. It was in November when we were told that our little pumpkins would be leaving us a mere 2 days before Christmas. While I was excited for bio family, I hated the idea of going through the holiday season with them only to wake up Christmas morning without them around the tree, unwrapping presents, getting frustrated trying to assemble their new toys, and inevitably dealing with a temper tantrum due to the overstimulation of the day. I wanted it all. But I knew that day didn’t belong to me anymore.

At first we decided on New York City. We’ve been to NYC many times during the Christmas season, but never on Christmas Day. I wanted to be The McCallister Family, waking up on a snowy Christmas morning in the Plaza Hotel. But the family part would be missing. And let’s face it, so would the Plaza part.

What would be easier: Spending the day with family without the kids or spending the day in a exciting city without family?

We could’ve gone to NYC after Christmas, but I’d rather listen to Gilbert Gottfried read War and Peace than be in NYC around New Years Eve.

So we decided to put our grownup panties on, spend Christmas at home even though it’ll be hard, and hop in the car December 26th for San Antonio. And it was perfect. Well…almost. While waiting to get into the Alamo, we got a phone call from a caseworker that completely changed the tone of the trip.

More on that later.