Breaking rules and traditions

This has been a rule breaking weekend.  I'm back on a train, headed back to Milwaukee.  This time I invested in a roomette (small sleeper). I figured we'd need it coming back to decompress some. The top bunk is supposed to only go down at night. Dude, Libby has been in that bunk already. Without her anti roll pillow.  Without her mummy-type seatbelt. Breaking the rules. 

Peanuts, peanut butter, peanut butter cookies on the train? Yep, we've been doing that. (It's not a rule, but I'm generally more courteous than that.)  I left trash, like last night's dinner for 6 from Pei Wei, in the hotel room. Semi-gathered up. All the way Chinese-food-leftovers smell.  (Again, against my personal norms and code.)

Which goes to our breaking traditions. This year we probably won't be doing a white Christmas in Milwaukee. We may be doing a Caribbeen cruise. (Eastern or Southern or Bahamas--NOT Western as there are too many memories of Katie tied up there for Joe.) Crazy, I know, a Christmas NOT at home.  There are just too many memories there for all of us and too many spoiled Christmas plans at the Oklahoma house for Joe. (Katie was already sketching out her decoration plans in August for the Christmas decorations and had asked BOTH Joe and Cheryl separately for decorating budgets--I think she was angling for combining both to a $10,000 total for the grand extravaganza.)

Today is one month. I've dwelled on that since early last night. There was one day between the milestones. Four weeks. A day off. Then BOOM one month.  I feel like the milestones are zooming at me and I can't slow them down to catch my breath. For every second I wish that time would pass ("Wake me up when it's all over, when I'm wiser and I'm older..."), I feel that there is an opposite reaction in me where I can't catch my breath before the next wave goes over my head, continuing my drowning theme.