After church, Eric was not feeling well; it takes him an exceptionally long time to recover from any illness, I've noticed. Perhaps it's his sleep apnea, and the fact that the machine he wears to sleep (like a mask that pumps air down his throat and ensures that it stays open to breathe) keeps the germs circulating through his respiratory system. Perhaps it's the diabetes. Who knows? Anyway, he went to lie down in bed. After a while, I came in to change clothes, and he had morphed into Mr. Amorous, and...well...what thesis defense?

That was at about one. I woke up at five. It's now half-past six, and he's finally awake again. But I'm feeling much more rested, thank you very much!

One of the great things about Eric working in manufacturing is the holiday shutdown. The plant where he works usually shuts down completely between Christmas and New Year's, allowing us to travel to West Virginia for Christmas, to see his family, and then to Maryland over New Year's for mine. But not his year. Eric just found out that he has to be back at work at four in the bloody morning on January 1. I'm guessing that the logic in the mind of whoever decided on this was something along the lines of, "Hm, Y2K bug. Yeah, that could be a problem. Well, three hours of work before the plant opens should let us fix anything that crops up."

Eric isn't impressed. Oh, well, I guess I really didn't need to see my family, anyway... *sniff* After all, once a year is enough, isn't it?

My little brother is already giving me crap about thinking about having children with Mom being so far away. He's trying to guilt me into moving closer, saying that she's getting depressed about never being able to see her grandkids. Well, I know it's an issue for her, but I can hardly expect Eric to pull up stakes and relocate again, when it was my education that brought us here in the first place, can I? He makes no bones about missing West Virginia, but he has a good job here now, and he didn't complain much at all when we left our families and friends to come here. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to move again. It's his turn now, and I'll follow him.

Sometimes I think about this whole "holiday travel" thing and wonder what we'll do in a few years, when we have kids of our own. I would like my children to be able to wake up in their own home and see the gifts under their own tree. I asked Eric what he thought, and was treated to a blank stare; apparently, he had thought we would continue to go to West Virginia, and that our kids would just celebrate Christmas at Grandma's house.

There's something not quite right about that, to my way of thinking. I mean, it's one thing to open presents at your own house, then go over to Grandma's for Christmas dinner and more presents. But to travel eight hours, sleep in Grandma's guest room, and have to transport presents back and forth? It seems so...foreign. Not to mention the fact that Eric's family opens all of their presents on Christmas Eve. That's a tradition that Eric and his brother forced onto the family by virtue of being young, impatient, and strong-willed. It's unnatural, if you ask me.