Jun 25, 2019 | Friends & Fun, Sports & leisure |
As has become our late spring/early summer tradition, AB and I traveled to Massachusetts for our twice-yearly visit.
The trip here was filled with quite a bit of metaphorical turbulence.
We’ve flown so often we have a pretty good system down. I know I need to have extra patience and be 300% on. Not only do I need to keep her occupied for hours, I need to keep her safe. It’s a lot of work but we usually make it with little to no issues (unless someone throws up in which case BIG issues). We didn’t get delayed or have air sickness, but every other little thing that could go wrong went wrong. I went to bed at 10 the night before we left but didn’t fall asleep until 2:30. I got up at 4am. For those doing math at home, that’s one and a half hours of sleep. It was barely a nap. Annabelle had gotten up at 4:30am and by the time we were about to board the second plane, she had been wide awake for nearly five hours, eaten two breakfasts, played with all the toys we brought, rubbed her hands on the toilet seat, smelled her strawberry-scented jelly shoes 15 times an hour and flopped down on the carpet in the boarding area. I barely had the energy to correct her. She talked nonstop the entire time she wasn’t sleeping. I was not in the mood to talk which presented an issue.
We got on the plane and were settled in when two ladies said we were in their seats. I didn’t realize we had seats 34C and 35C instead of seats in the same row. We moved, then the ladies moved, then their friend in row 33 moved. It was musical chairs in the crowded plane aisle. We’re all going to the same place and getting there at the same time so why does it matter if the seats are wrong? Honestly, I would have been happy to hand Annabelle off to someone in row 34 while I relaxed in row 35.
We seldom travel with a car seat but I did this time since I was renting a car. I didn’t factor having to carry the car seat as well as our two bags and carry on, so I looked like a pack mule. A kind TSA agent took pity on me and asked if I needed help. I said we were trying to get to Enterprise and he looked at our mound of possessions, looked at AB and her flipped over unicorn suitcase and told us where to find a shuttle that would take us to car rental. I almost kissed the feet of the man driving the shuttle. I would have been 35 years old if we had to walk there. There were several issues with getting the rental car but I finally got on the road. I put the address in the gps and somehow ended up with directions to Greece.
It was worth all the angst and frustration because look who we were reunited with the next day after two years apart- my very best friend Katie.
She gained a child and I gained several pounds in our two years apart, but we’re just as close as ever. We picked up right where we left off and stayed up late at night eating ice cream. We had so much to catch up on. We had a rocky start with the girls because Annabelle started crying the minute we arrived to pick them up, but she recovered and they had a great time.
It’s so much fun to see them together. It was especially fun since they got to play at the same lakehouse Katie and I played at 23+ years ago. They were sleeping in separate bedrooms but had the classic sleepover conversation of “if I wake up first I’ll wake you up, but if you wake up first then wake me up.” Last time we visited, AB was in diapers. This time we set out breakfast on the table at night and told them to have at it and serve themselves breakfast in the morning. It was a new dawn of parenting.
The first full day we visited the beach in the rain. We said we’d visit for just a few minutes didn’t bother bringing the kids a change of clothes. What a rookie mom mistake. Of course they went in the water, rolled in the sand and got wet! We let them get as wet and dirty as they wanted. We live so far apart and never get to see them, so this was a fun memory to make. We wrapped everyone up in towels and listened to the new Aladdin soundtrack on the way back to the house.
God bless Massachusetts and God bless a Dunkin Donuts that makes good ice coffee.
Jul 7, 2018 | It's all relative, Sports & leisure |
I didn’t mean for so much time to pass between posts but that’s how it goes every time I go home for a visit. I think I’ll have time to read and blog but in reality I do very little of either.
It was so stupidly hot most of our visit. The day we arrived was 66* but every day after was sweltering. I am not the best version of myself in the heat. I get very annoyed with life in general and have very little patience. I thought a great idea for our last day of Aunt Camp would be to visit the splash pad. Contrary to the website, it wasn’t open so we tried another park Daniel knew of. It was closed for an old car show. We tried a third park but it didn’t open for an hour and a half. All it had was a fire hydrant stuck in the middle of a cement enclosure so it wasn’t what we were looking for anyway. Morale in our car was dropping rapidly so I called a fourth park with a wading pool to find out the hours. I wasn’t about to make the girls sit through a drive to another failed park. The woman on the phone said it was open until 5:45. I found an open park! The day was saved! I was the Aunt Camp MVA (most valuable aunt). We picked up Chickfila and I got the girls enthusiasm back up. THE NEXT PARK WAS LOCKED. The sign said it didn’t open for 45 minutes. I was so close to breaking in. I didn’t travel for two hours to be defeated. Two lifeguards showed up and we thought they’d let us in early but no such luck. They sat on their chairs for half an hour while 17 children waited in the grass. They said no one could swim, or stick toes in, until noon because of insurance. Insurance shimnsurance. It was 98* with high humidity. Children were falling apart. A certain mother might have been on the brink of organizing a revolt against the wading pool. Like I said, I’m not my best self in the heat. Once we all got a chance to cool off and have some fun we all decided it was a good trip after all.
Halfway through Aunt Camp, Ivy started sitting on her potty every time AB sat on hers. She’d announce that she peed, Annabelle would get off her toilet to check, then tell Ivy to sit back down and try again. They looked like Jacks in the box, hopping up and down. At one point she was laying on the ground in front of Ivy’s potty out by the pool encouraging her to keep trying. “Just keep trying, Baby Ivy! Keep trying and you’ll get better!” This pattern repeated for several visits to the bathroom and by the end of our visit Ivy was saying when she needed the potty and using it almost full time. Erika did nothing but buy the potty and monitor handwashing.
It took 10 months to potty train Annabelle. She didn’t get it until four months ago. Apparently she’s now enough of an expert to train Ivy. I’m thinking of making this lucrative and starting AB’s Potty Encouragement, LLC.
Tuesday night we went to fireworks and Wednesday we went to the parade. We almost didn’t go to the parade because of the heat but I’m so glad we did. There’s so much change going on so it was nice to do something I did as a child. Annabelle loved it. She danced and clapped and collected candy. She was so ladylike about picking the candy. She’d run over to the pile, inspect every piece, then pick one and bring it back to. She never took more than one because she wanted to share with the others.
The photographer for the local paper was fascinated with her. I can’t say I blame him. She did have the cutest outfit.
It was with great sadness that we left yesterday. The visits always go by so fast! When we got to the airport the man behind the counter said, “You know the flight is delayed? You got the email?” If I got the email and knew it was delayed I would not have shown up five hours early. Mom and Elizabeth hadn’t left the airport so we reconvened and came up with a plan that didn’t involve me entertaining Sesame in an airport for half the day. Suddenly the handle on the collapsible wagon we travel with broke. It was at this point that Annabelle bit my arm. She NEVER bites. I know she was overtired but it was not acceptable. I was already over the day and it wasn’t even noon. Elizabeth said she’d find a way to fix the wagon and she did. We drove to a mechanic, she took the broken wagon in and reappeared with it completely fixed. I told her I wish I had the courage to waltz in there for help. I’ve been known to leave the grocery store without an ingredient instead of asking for help. She said she did it so she’d make it to the blog. LET’S ALL RECOGNIZE ELIZABETH.
We finally got on the plane at the time it was originally scheduled to land in Georgia. We had our tray tables up and seatbelts securely fastened when the captain announced that Air Force One was in the area and all other air travel in the area was prohibited. We sat on the runway for an hour.
The pilot tried to lighten the mood by telling us it was 6* cooler in Atlanta. What a blessing. While we sat, I realized my fitbit was counting steps even though I wasn’t walking. Donald may have delayed my flight but I did earn 347 steps while sitting still. Last time we flew we couldn’t land because DT was in the area and we hit turbulence which made AB throw up. I’ll take free steps anyday.
Jul 8, 2013 | Holidays, It's all relative, Sports & leisure |
Snapshot 1:
Horseback riding in a torrential downpour.
Snapshot 2:
I tried to take an incognito picture of Dad and Elizabeth riding their horses behind me but all I got was this picture of the side of my face. Looks like I have a serious case of 5 o’clock shadow going on. Christopher is a lucky man!
Snapshot 4:
Snapshot 5:
The professional fireworks were canceled due to previously mentioned rain, but Christopher directed us in setting off our own personal fireworks show. I had never set off fireworks before and most of mine never left the ground. The show was successful because no one lost any important limbs!
Snapshot 6:
Showing off my flexibility Giving Dad a personal water aerobics class.
Snapshot 7:
While swimming we saw an entire rainbow circling the sun. I’d never seen anything like it before. I’d look up the technical name but then I’d get sidetracked reading predictions about my Godchild, the future prince/prince of Cambridge.
Snapshot 8:
Rainbow leaves at Centennial Park in Nashville.
Oct 10, 2012 | Holidays, Sports & leisure |
Yesterday we observed Columbus Day like most of our fellow
Americans. Except I call it Amerigo Vespucci Day because I believe in giving
honor where honor is due. I told Christopher (the husband, not the explorer) my
thoughts and he said if we’re being technical about it, we should call it Lief
Ericson Day because Lief landed in the Americas before Amerigo. Welcome to our daily discussions of our
marriage.
We spent the day up in Nashville doing the touristy things.
We visited the Ryman and took a backstage tour. I loved the windows.
The tour guide informed us that just the other week Martina
McBride sat on a particular couch in the dressing room we were in, and it took
three of us to hold Christopher back from BOLTING over to sit where Martina had
sat. Can you imagine the blog material had he really done that?!
Next
we visited the Country Music Hall of Fame.
(They had a temporary T. Swift exhibit but I didn’t spend much time there because I have some strong feelings regarding her. They’re mostly along the lines of girlfriend needs to pick her heart up off the floor and move on! At least I that’s how I feel when I’m not singing Teardrops on My Guitar.)
Anyone
care for a revolver door handle?
I was
overjoyed upon leaving the Hall of Fame to see my very good friend, Mr. Josh
Turner. Naturally we took our picture
together.
This is
how Christopher felt that I wanted my picture taken with another man.
Between Martina, the revolver on the door, and Josh, I think we spent the day just as Amerigo would have wanted.
Jul 27, 2012 | Sports & leisure |
Besides Independence Day, there are two days in July that I have been looking forward to for the last three months- the Olympic opening ceremony and the Transportation Corp. Ball. I don’t watch much tv the rest of the year, but every two years during the Olympics I station myself in front of the tv and seldom move. Unless, of course, it’s the track events where people run for 800 miles and I get so sweaty just watching them that I move on to bigger and better things like finding snacks to eat during gymnastics. I don’t think I need discuss again my love for balls (the dresses! And uniforms! And guest speakers of very high rank! And fancy food!).
I was on the train headed to visit my family when I realized that the ball and the opening ceremony were scheduled for the very same evening. This was a huge problem. How could I host my annual Olympic opening ceremony party AND be at a ball at the same time? What would I do? Clone myself? The only reasonable solution was to bring the tv with me to the ball. Never have I read that one shouldn’t do that, so I decided that’s what had to be done. If Christopher wanted to pretend he didn’t know the person lugging the tv as we walked through the receiving line, well, then so be it. I even came up with a speech about how being at a military ball at the same time as supporting my fellow countryman as they participated in the parade of nations was PATRIOTISM TO THE MAX. Listen. It was a 10 hour train ride so I had a lot of time on my hands for thinking.
This is the part of the story where Great Sadness and Mourning enter. (Grab your tissues.) The powers that be (I can only assume it was men heading the party planning committee) ran out of tickets for the ball so we shall not be attending. OH, THE SADNESS. If only they had realized that Christopher sat in David’s Bridal for nearly an hour while I dress shopped I’m sure they could have hunted up a ticket or two.
After I semi-recovered from the terrible turn of events, I realized that no ball meant I would be able to host my opening ceremony party from the comfort of my living room after all. As they say, there’s a silver lining to every cloud. My American flag shirt is much less glamorous than the blue dress and silver shoes I was going to wear, but at least I wouldn’t run the risk of Christopher being ashamed to be seen with me.
I get very involved during these events. I like the videos they play of athletes who grew up in great poverty but have risen above it all and achieved their dreams. Once they start playing the inspirational music and showing baby pictures, I am SOLD on that athlete. Well done, NBC. You did it again. Each year I can rely on Bob Costas saying, “He’s really going for gold this time.”
You don’t say. Aren’t they all?
No Olympic party of mine would be complete without rings of some sort. I am almost too embarrassed to put up a picture of my
failure of an idea (take the top off an Oreo! Go around the edge with Olympic colors! It will work like a charm!), but since I went through all the work of doing it I might as well document it. (My cake decorating teacher would be sad to see
these. I’m sorry, Loretta.) I like to think it’s a testament to how much I’ve grown as a person since the last Olympics that I overlooked the crumbs and didn’t throw them all out and start over. Buuuuut, in reality I was too tired and it seemed like too much work.
Here’s hoping the fate of the US Olympic team doesn’t rest on my ability to successfully frost the edges of Oreos in a perfect circle.
