Girls Night Out

So I told her we got a present* in the mail. Something just for her and me. Something special.

She was so excited, we went in the rain. Part of me wanted to cancel, but the allure of time alone with me, combined with the magic of baseball was too much for her. We have to go Mama, she told me, the Bird will be sooo sad not to see us.

And it was true.

The O's hosted a wonderful tour of the park, with behind the scenes perks that I had never dreamed of. Our tour guide showed us the playground, touting its child friendliness. But none of that mattered, because we were already fans. Already in love with the ballpark.

What we got that night that I will always keep with me is this.

Time alone with my girl, made possible by the love of baseball.

*Our tickets, tour and snacks were provided to us free of cost from the Baltimore Orioles, but my words and opinions are 100% my own.

Rolling

One of the perks to Matt's fancy detail job is his ready proximity to the White House.

For years, like many American's, we've tried in vain to get tickets to the White House Easter Egg Roll. This year was no different. We tried. In vain. Several times. And was once again shut out.

But, the upside to being one of the few late-thirty-somethings in an office of work-a-holic Washingtonians is the is one of the 'few old guys with kids'.  And he was plied with sympathy. All of his co-workers entered their name into a lottery with the intent to pass on their tickets to us.

We hit the jackpot.

It was a beautiful day.

The girls were dressed in their White House appropriate finery, and I had a plan. We stopped to have lunch near our house to fill bellies before heading into DC. The problem was food never really make it into bellies. At the end of lunch, I saw Clare give me the look. A half second later, that look ended up all over herself and Grace as my carefully laid plan crumbled before my eyes.

In the rush to go home and change the girls, a key part of Clare's wardrobe was left behind.

Once we got past the chaos of actually getting on the grounds, the girls hunted and dyed eggs. They met their heroes: Dora, Diego and Curious George. And we procured a much sought after family photo on the south lawn of the White House.

All sans-shoes.

Come Talk to Me @ BlogHer

So I’m about to go on an adventure.

All by myself.

Well, not really all by myself. Robin and Denise are coming with me.

But right now, I feel all by myself.

I tried packing my bag all weekend long. I put things in, I took things out. Grace put things in and took things out. I’ve analyzed if I have enough room to bring my own pillow like a child because I just don’t sleep right without it.

And now? My stomach is churning. The calendar has flipped and it is officially August and I am officially leaving in 2 days for San Diego.

Posts like this have really been helping, but still…. I get it is OK to be awkward. In my mind though, it is fine for other people to be awkward, but aren’t I supposed to have my shit together and fully embrace the idea of freedom and adventure for five very long days. Part of me relishes the idea of seeing this computer based life in person, but another part of me feels like such a fraud.

You know, you read me. You’ve noticed that my posts have dropped off significantly in the last year or so. Am I a blogger, just because I have a url? Well, I guess I did have business cards made to that effect.

Once I get on the plane I know I will be fine. We have invites to parties galore, and lot of free booze will make all my worries go away, right?

So really, come talk to me. Because I think I will really need it.

Have I mentioned that my stomach is churning?

Pulse Points

I stood there, eyes fixed and willing myself not to let them mist.

She let go of my hand within 5 minutes of stepping into the room, welcomed into the classroom and enticed by the scent of strawberries.

The educational philosophy centers on stimulation and independence. Teaching kids through engagement and creativity.

They handed her a knife.

Grace cooks with me often. I let her stand next to me by the stove and stir bubbling pots. I have never given her a knife though. I guess they knew something that I couldn't see.

I stayed as far back as I could, but watched her closely. She handled it deftly.

She found a container full of tadpoles. She knew what they were without any help. (How does she know what a tadpole looks like?) She explained to the teacher the transformation they would go though. The teacher seemed impressed and told her to feel free to explore anything she was interested in.

She played with puzzles, found fire ants digging tunnels through gel, watched as another teacher transferred the baby chickens into a shaded coop.

She washed hands when instructed to and feasted on her share of the cut strawberries, mint and a sprinkle of sugar she helped prepare.

This change will be hardest on me. Watching my child prove first hand that my baby is no longer a baby. She will thrive in this environment. Without me. Without my vertical 100 yard proximity.

Grace will soon be a Montessori girl and everything I have come to know and depend on will change. This will be good for her. Good for us.

But, ugh, how I hate change.

It's New to Us Anyway

I single parented again while Matt went on a road trip. It was quick, a total of 55 hours (yes, I kept track). And I did have the option of tagging along, but 13 hour drives are not conducive to 37 week pregnant and 2.5 year old bladders.

So where did he go - and WHY? Well.... back to Chicago for an upgrade.

See, this was our/his car.

It was the very first car we bought because about 2 months after moving from Chicago to Washington, DC both of our cars died. Within 2 weeks of each other. Mine would no longer start, and his decided not to stop one day. (Thank God it ended its life in the parking lot of our apartment complex and not on the highway!)

Anyway.... we were gun-shy about the idea of buying another used car and all the potential problems that goes with thousands of miles already attached to a car. So we found this little number at the Saturn dealership.

The Saturn SL Spring Special. (Note - this is NOT our car - but I am encouraged that these folks think they can get $5,000.00 for the car!) I think we paid around $8,000.00 for the car brand new. It was no perks- stick shift (which I never did figure our how to drive), crank windows, CD player only because it came standard with the car- type of vehicle. But we could afford it and it was dependable.

Then we had Grace, and her car seat took up 2/3 of the backseat. We bumped her head every time we took her in or out of the car. It was small. Too small for two children to comfortably be strapped into. Add to that, that my SUV has over 125,000 miles on it and is making funny noises again.

We started talking upgrades. We started talking about what we wanted to replace our cars with. We started talking about finances and price points. And the conversations about new cars stopped.

Until Matt was on the phone with his dad a few weeks ago and was informed - sadly - he had just put a For Sale sign on his Caddy. *sniff* Oh wait, you just did WHAT? Hmmm....

Hence, our upgrade.

Sure, it's not what we would have picked out of a car lot. But it is a 1994, solid as a rock, dependable as the day is long, only sporting 30,000 miles luxury vehicle that has been kept immaculate through its succession of owners. Now it has us. Poor car.

And for all of you who's first question was, 'What color is it?', with the hopes of Pimp-Daddy ice blue or mint green, my memory had failed me. It is not the bland taupe I had remembered. I the shade it looks brown-ish, but in the sun- OH! IN THE SUN!!- it is a mocha / purple color!

Rock on!!

And, it comes from the land before CD players in cars, so we have our very own throw-back tape player!

Ummm .... does anyone have any tapes?

Miscellany

I’m here. I’ve alive. Barely. Things have been, busy.

Opportunity is a funny thing.

Remember this rant? At least part of it null. I moved into a new job this week. And it turns out it was MY fault that it took so long.

Oh well, c'est la vie…. I still stand by the rest of that post though.

On day 4 of this new position though, I keep wondering if I’ve made the right decision. Matt is going to smack me for writing this, especially with all the work he has done to help me get here and stay here, but this job is…. Hard. I know, I know- every new job is hard. At least any job that is worth having. I was just so used to easy.

And it feels like my belly has grown an inch a day this week. I know she can feel my stress and at 5 ½ months my belly has turned into a hard ball of movement. Suddenly, I have gone from looking chubbier than usual to looking pregnant. When I sit, my boobs are almost resting on my belly already. I have to pee every time I move. Every. Freaking. Time.

And I am so tired.

I remember my pregnancy with Gracie as blissful once I got past the 1st trimester sickness stage and before I got to the 3rd trimester oh-my-god-my-belly-is-an-overripe-watermelon- waiting-to-burst stage. This time, not so much. Before I could concentrate on me; sleep 14 hours if I so choose; lay on the couch only to leave for more chocolate. Now I am dealing with the irrational daily tantrums of a 2 year old and her new obsession with Sesame Street.

Which brings me to my third rant, because Sesame Street is making diaper changing the bain of my existence because the freaking Pampers have Sesame Street characters on them. But does Gracie want Elmo who graces 2/3 of the package? Noooooo…. she wants Ernie. Ernie who is on one 1 out of every 10. Ernie who’s name she didn’t even know until I explained that he was the one who sings the Rubber Ducky song. And she wants to look at every diaper in the package of 88 before selecting the one she deems worthy for her bottom.

The synopsis of all this?

I have a new job. I am exhausted. I hate Sesame Street. And my blogging may be sporadic over the next few weeks. Please forgive me.
And if your child refuses to wear their size 5 Ernie's let me know and maybe we can work out an exchange.