Traveling with Baby

I don't like the act of traveling from one place to another. I love vacations and exploring new places, but I really hate traveling in the car for hours on end, and I'm not excited about flying either. A friend just told me that she is taking her almost-three-year-old-son on a vacation via car from Illinois out to Pennsylvania and the Jersey Shore and then somewhere another sixteen hours away to stay at a relative's time-share. I looked at her and said, "You couldn't pay me to do that with a kid."

Maybe it's because I suffered from motion sickness for the duration of my childhood. Any car ride over forty-five minutes left me throwing up into my very own "barf bucket" --a one gallon ice cream tub complete with lid and handle. We flew to Florida every year at Christmastime to visit my grandparents and my dad and brother got seats in a different part of the plane so they didn't have to deal with me getting sick every time we landed. My brother would go through the plane and gather several barf bags for my mom to have handy and I never failed to use at least one. Thankfully, I've outgrown that for the most part. I do still get sick occasionally on cruise ships and I tend to avoid my dad's boat as a precautionary measure.

Ada hasn't shown any consistent signs of having my weak traveler's stomach, but she has thrown up in the car three or four times. It always coincides with her having a cup of juice right beforehand. I count my blessings that she inherited her dad's more tolerant stomach. And we'll just have to wait and see how well Iain fares in the car--so far, so good.

But that's not really why I don't like traveling. Now that I have two kids, it is because it takes forever to get anywhere. By the time you pack the car, load up the kids, get on the road, stop to nurse the baby, get stuck in traffic, listen to the baby scream, listen to Ada whine, pull off for gas or a snack or a bathroom break -- which means unloading the kids and reloading the kids--it is an exhausting process. Just going to the grocery store can take hours. I assume things will improve as the kids get older and I'm not nursing and we equip them each with an Ipod filled with movies and a cushy neck pillow. But I can't imagine I will ever get to a point where I look at my husband and say, "Let's put the kids in the car and drive far, far away for a cross country family vacation!" And if I did ever say that, I think he would look at me and know that something was really, really wrong.

The only way that I tolerate long road trips is if they are for something really worthwhile. Worthwhile meaning that I will put up with an eight hour plane ride if I get to spend two weeks in Germany. Or a six hour car ride if I get to see my best friend get married (while saving $500 on airfare and getting the grandparents to watch the kids so I can have alone time with my husband.) I start hitting my limit on trips back to our hometown an hour-and-a-half-away when we only go for a day or an overnight visit. By the time we pay for gas, pull over to quiet the kids a few times, pack and unpack the car, and then return home to a long list of chores that were put off so that we could spend three hours in the car, it doesn't seem worth it. Luckily, both of our parents live in the same town so we get to see most of our relatives each trip. And they are willing to watch the kids so we can get a date night out of the deal--assuming we aren't too exhausted to stay up late enough to actually go out on a date.

As I get older and our family expands, I find myself still wanting to do all of the things our parents and friends from back home invite us to do, but just not having the strength to endure the car ride out there to do them. I've been trying to coordinate and consolidate visits so that we maximize what we do and who we see each time we go home. It is nice to be invited and included in their lives, but there comes a point where we need to make our own lives. We live in the city and have a lot of friends to see and have Saturday brunch and BBQs with, museums and cultural centers to visit, and lazy days to enjoy. That's tough to fit in when we spend so much time traveling home for this, that, and something else. I've definitely noticed since we had Iain that more family members are coming in to see us, and they are coming more often. Now that, nine weeks after he was born, we finally got a chance to actually clean our house, I can be much more receptive to having friends and family stop by since I'm not as embarrassed by our messy home.

If nothing else, having a second child has taught my husband and I that we need to get better at saying "No" when it comes to our social calendar. I think we also need to get better at inviting our families to come visit more often and host more events here since they are more mobile than we are at this point in life. Hopefully, we'll find a happy medium.

Moral of the story: Having kids changes your social life and complicates travel. Set limits and learn how to say "No" to prevent yourselves from being stretched too thin.

The Chair Project

Back in 1967, my father bought his father two chairs as a gift. We don't know the fate of the other chair, but one of the chairs has made a home with me for several years now. It started off as a burnt red-orange color with a lot of structure and was super comfortable. Holes were starting to wear in the arms of the chair so I got this great idea to recover it. My dad helped and, even though we had no idea what we were doing, we recovered the chair. We didn't do a good job recovering the chair, but we did it. That's kind of a recurring theme with my dad and me. Neither of us are perfectionists, but we love to get things done. You can only imagine how this chair looked after we had stripped it of all of its stuffing and thereby its structure, bought a utilitarian black fabric and some foam fill from the fabric store, and used our mad made-up upholstery skills to recover it. We even invested in a staple gun-- albeit not a very powerful one. Let's just say it didn't look all that great, but it served its purpose.

Once Rick and I were married, we decided to give the chair a much needed makeover. Rick wasn't keen on the duct tape my dad and I had used to hold the cushion together. I can sew, but I don't do zippers. The duct tape was our substitute for a zipper and being that it was the underside of the cushion, no one really noticed. The important part was that the chair was comfortable.

Rick and I went to the fabric store to pick out a redish, rust-colored fabric with a bit of a pattern to it to return the chair to a color and style closer to the original. Being that Rick is a perfectionist, he also insisted that we got a few tools of the trade instead of just "winging it" as my dad and I had done. He also didn't let me use duct tape this time. After several days of stapling and hammering and stuffing, we had something that again resembled a chair. Not a really pretty chair. Not perfect --which is surprising for Rick but he got too frustrated with the project to really care about perfection in the end --but an improvement over the previous attempt. This version of the chair had stuffing that would poke out at the joint where the arms met the chair back since we had no way to tie the fabric down at that point. The seat bottom where the cushion rested wasn't anchored into the back of the chair either so that caused it to slip down and expose the stuffing at the front of the chair base. And if you ask Rick about it, he'll claim that the pokey strips used to hold the fabric in place had come unattached and were out to get him as he always seemed to get stabbed when he sat in the chair for some reason.

For some relevant background on this story, you need to understand that I've only done a few projects with my dad that I can remember. He isn't really the crafty/handy type. We made a Frankenstein monster with a pumpkin head to enter into the Sycamore Pumpkin Festival one year. We attempted to make a go cart like you see on all the commercials. It worked but we needed to run it down a hill for momentum and then never really got a good breaking system figured out. And we once sanded down an old wooden desk that was salvaged from his work. We did a less-than-perfect job painting it bright red and I spent the next decade covering it with stickers, concert ticket stubs and cancelled stamps. I really loved that desk and took it to Milwaukee with Rick and I when we moved in together. I tend to cherish the projects my dad and I have undertaken together, even if they aren't perfect.

Point being, Rick hated the red desk and refused to ever move it again since it was made of pressed wood. It was insanely heavy and cumbersome so I don't really blame him (Okay, maybe just a little bit). When it came time to move to Chicago, he sawed it into pieces and took it to the dumpster. It was a sad day for me.

Now you can imagine how upset I became when Rick said he now hated this red chair and wanted to throw it out. He was tired of it drawing blood every time he sat down (somehow I never got stabbed by the chair so I'm not sure that was really the case with him but that was what he claimed.) This was the chair that used to belong to my grandfather. The chair that my dad and I recovered (with the help of a little duct tape). The chair that he and I had recovered (using a safety pin and some creative cushion design instead of a zipper). This chair had lived with us everywhere we had lived together. It was comfortable. It was sentimental. And here he wanted to just pitch it to the curb. No sir. That was where I drew the line.

After weeks of considering a new chair and not finding anything that was just right, we took the red chair to DeKalb to have it recovered by a professional. We dropped it off, picked a fun fabric along the lines of a rust color, and told the upholsterer to be creative with it. I asked her to give it some form, some personality, some better stuffing and a zippered cushion along the way.

Three weeks and a gazillion dollars later (partially sponsored by Granny and Aunt Terri as an Iain baby shower gift), we have a beautiful chair with a good story behind it. It is now, as far as I am concerned anyway, an heirloom. Rick no longer hates it and isn't being (allegedly) stabbed by it. Ada loves bouncing in it, until I reprimand her anyway. And I find it to be a nice, comfortable place to relax and cuddle with the kids. Well worth the investment.

Moral of the story: Sometimes you just have to invest in the things that will leave lasting memories.

Kick Kick Kick

Friday we went to the beach. Saturday we were lazy and stayed in. And on Sunday, we went to a party with a pool!

Here's evidence of Ada's first dip in a pool.A big thanks go to Rick, Heather, Ba and Rich for humoring Ada's love of the water and her persistent pleas for being tossed. So where's mom? Hanging out poolside, literally, cuddled in the shade with baby Iain. Moral of the story: It's important to have relatives that will pick up the slack when you aren't able to do it all.

Newborn 101 - Déjà Vu

My, oh my, how I have forgotten the basics of mothering.

For instance:

If you leave the house for a few minutes, you need to remember to take several diapers, a hefty supply of wipes, a blanket, and a backup outfit for the baby.

If you leave the house for more than an hour, you need all of the above and a backup outfit for yourself, and one for your husband as well.

As a rule, you have to prepare for the unimaginable as it really is more likely than you'd think once you add in the newborn variable.

As a nursing mother, you can't just eat whatever you want. Broccoli and cabbage and beans are likely to keep you up at night from all of the gas your newborn will then have to pass.

Babies are like puppies. Once you take one out in public, you frequently will find yourself the center of attention.

Moral of the story: The second child is a bit like riding a bike after a long absence. You fall over the first few times and look stupid (or get covered in smelly bodily functions), but eventually it comes back to you.

Who's In Charge Here?

Sunday was a lot of work. And I'm pretty sure I lost the mommy-daughter battle for who's in control, at least temporarily.

It all started with a family breakfast in Lake Geneva in which Ada had to be removed from the restaurant at least three times for bad behavior at the end of the table. Her sassiness continues to amaze and frustrate me. And she's testing her limits with both of us.

After breakfast, it was time to head south to Warrenville to drop Rick off for a brewery tour and golf date with friends. I was really nervous after having been in the car with the kids for an hour and forty minutes, to then be driving them home another hour by myself. I haven't had much experience having both of them alone and it still scares me. At least with someone else in the car we can try to give Iain a pacifier --which he won't take 98% of the time--or try to reason with Ada as to why she needs to use her inside voice in the car. Without Rick, I didn't have that sense of security or another adult to commiserate with if things got really bad.

Fortunately, when glancing at the map, I noticed we were right next to Wheaton, IL. It just so happens that I have relatives in Wheaton and Lisle, right nearby, is home of the Morton Arboretum. I debated whether to call my relatives or not and decided that I'd take the kids to the Arboretum to burn off some energy and to say that I've been there since the architecture firm I work for designed the building and it is good to see some of the design work you are trying to sell. I opted to call my relatives when we got close to the Arboretum and they suggested I come to their house, which was five minutes away, to get a free entry pass since they are members. I am so thankful that I did.

Our "stop by to pick up a pass" turned into a two-hour play session for Ada, a good spot for Iain to nurse and nap, and a nice adult conversation for me in which I got to catch up with Tip, Marilyn, their son Brian, and his son Matt. We only see these relatives once or twice a year, which is a tragedy that it isn't more frequent, but whenever we do, I'm always pleased. They are so warm and welcoming and enjoyable that our visits are always refreshing. Not to mention that they tend to feed me well and they are excellent cooks. What's not to love?

As four o'clock approached, I loaded the kids into the car for a quick visit to the Arboretum. Marilyn invited us back for dinner and I wasn't going to turn that down knowing my fridge at home was barren. The Children's Garden area at the Arboretum closes at five pm so we needed to get there quickly if we were going to see it. The free admission pass was supposed to be good for just me but the ticket woman was nice enough to let it count Ada too. It's a good thing she did because I learned later on that my wallet was actually buried in the trunk in a bag under a pile of other bags from our trip and it might very well have taken me ten minutes to find it.

The Children's Garden was great fun. Ada enjoyed playing in the stream the best. Iain slept for most of the time, minus what he spent nursing. We missed the last tram that takes you around the whole park so we'll have to go back and do that again next time.

Second only to playing in the stream was this water marble ball. Ada loves balls, and water, and well, this just made her day and kept her occupied while I nursed Iain.The Arboretum has a beautiful lookout platform high in the trees where we convinced strangers to take a photo of us. I did convince Ada that piggy should not be upside down for his big photo opportunity so she turned him right side up.

About 5:30, after taking Ada and Iain and the stroller through one of the hedge mazes and getting stuck inside for 15 minutes, we found the exit and made our way to the car. Ada picked this point in time to launch her rebellion. She didn't want to get out of the stroller or into the car. I finally resorted to force and put her into the car myself, but then she asserted her force to let me know she didn't want to be secured into her car seat and in doing so, managed to rip open the side of the bag of Goldfish crackers. I was able to grab the bag and keep it together, with few casualties, until I found a container from the trunk to relocated them into. She felt a little bad about the Goldfish incident and finally acquiesced to the car seat.

I hoped that was the end of our battle, but knew deep down it was just the beginning since she almost fell asleep on the five minute ride back to Tip and Marilyn's and was bound to be crabby. I considered skipping dinner but we didn't really have lunch so that wasn't an option. And I'm an optimist so I was hopeful that everything would be just fine. Sure it would be, right? How bad could it be?

We got back to the house as Marilyn was heating up the meal. We all sat down for grace and I thought things were going well until Ada got up from the table and started walking around. Then she picked up a few decorations from around the house and threw a fit when I took them away. She didn't eat much and spent most of the meal rebelling.

Meanwhile, my hope was that Iain would take this opportunity during dinner to kick back, relax and take a nap. No such luck. He went into gassy, fussy, hungry, cranky mode about six bites into the meal. So here I am, with a fussy baby and a sassy two-and-a-half-year-old, trying to eat a warm meal and have a nice conversation with relatives and instead ending up completely embarrassed with no control of anything. None of my discipline tactics worked with Ada. None of my calming efforts worked with Iain. I was zero for two.

Thankfully, Tip and Marilyn understand how crazy kids can be and didn't seem to judge me based on my children's behavior and lack of discipline. I'm hopeful that they will invite us back even though Ada broke a mini tea serving set just before we left, didn't help clean up the toys she played with, and moved three out of four porcelain ducks to new homes throughout the house with no intention of returning them to their rightful home. I'm optimistic that they, as parents and grandparents themselves, are also chalking this up to too much time in the car after a long weekend and a fast approaching bedtime that rendered Ada unruly. And as for Iain, well, he's four weeks old so that gives him an automatic behavior pass, or at least I hope it does.

After such a long, adventure-filled day, both kids passed out in the car. I did have to stop at the end of Tip and Marilyn's block to take Iain's car seat out and swing it back and forth a few times to settle him down. But once on the road, I didn't hear a peep. It was heavenly... until I got parked on our block and realized I needed to get two sleeping children into our house that was about 500 feet from the car and Rick was still in Oakbrook having dinner and our neighbor who typically saves my butt in these situations wasn't home. After the initial moment of frustration, panic, and being really ticked off at Rick for not being there to help me, I came to a solution. I pulled the stroller out of the trunk, loaded the kids and my purse into it, pushed it to the front door (while flashing the middle finger to the parking space that just opened up ten feet from my front door) and woke Ada up to stumble through the first and second vestibule doors as I held Iain in one arm, pulled the stroller with the other and held it in place with my left foot as my right hand turned the key in our front lock and my backside held open the door for Ada and the stroller to stumble through. Sure I could have accepted the offer to help hold the door from the four polite adults walking in front of our building. At that point I was feeling like a mom-failure and had to do this by myself, for me. If nothing else, it was to prove that I did, in fact, still have control over something and I wasn't a helpless mom in the city. I guarantee that next time I'll let them help.

Moral of the story: Toddlers can't be controlled. Expect them to behave badly and embarrass you on occasion and do your best to take it with dignity. That's the best option you've got.

We returned to Tip and Marilyn's for dinner. Ada was tired, but I was hopeful that she would make it through dinner and sleep on the way home. We hadn't eaten lunch since we had brunch at 9:30 and snacks in the car.

Ada's Back!

After 10 days of camping with Rick's family and friends, Ada was returned to us last night in one piece. You don't realize how much a toddler can change in ten days until you send them away. Wow!

See for yourself...

She's tan. She's more blond from being in the sun. She's grown -- or at least she looks bigger than I remember. And she has this healthy glow about her from being outdoors --and probably from not being sick since she spent the trip on an antibiotic for a sinus infection and an antacid for reflux, which is now the latest diagnosis as to why she's been having incidents of coughing followed by throwing up. She didn't get that scrap on her chin until after she got back and went on a walk with me. She ran when I said stop and was too busy laughing at mommy having to chase her down the street in flip flops that she lost her footing and skidded across the sidewalk on her chin. Not a move I would ever recommend.

While she was gone, she learned a ton of new words and started to string three words together. She isn't talking much around the house but I think that's just her way to get a bit more attention around the baby. She didn't even seem all that upset to see that he is still here. But she is really connected to Rick again and follows him everywhere. I made sure when Grandma DD left this morning to have her tell Ada "bye-bye" and explain that Ada was staying with Mommy and Daddy. She was acting a bit cold to DD for fear that DD would take her back home after she just got us back.

It's rumored that she was a great little camper, only getting car sick once which resulted in her throwing up on Aunt Terri's DVD player. Oops! She did slip off her air mattress to end up in a heap of blankets at the bottom of the tent a few times -- they were on a hill so that is to be expected. And she quickly learned a love for the lake and boats and all things Grandpa Rich as he became her Daddy replacement for the duration of the trip. She really loves the men in our family.

Moral of the story: If you ship your child off for more than a week, prepare to see measurable changes in them upon their return.

Transit Success

Public transit with an infant turns out to be better than I expected. Yes, I was hotter than a Cayenne pepper on the walk there. Yes, the stairs were a lot of work -- I could have opted for the elevator but I'm a bit of a wuss and elevators scare me a little, really just getting stuck in them scares me. And I was pleasantly surprised that the El cars had working air conditioners so they made the heat much more bearable. It also helped that I was able to get a seat since we rode at non-peak times. I will say that I got a few funny looks when I got down to the Chicago Loop since it is mostly filled with commuters and they don't expect to see babies in slings in the downtown area.

One observation I made while being downtown and riding the El with an infant is that the city is really loud. I mean, REALLY LOUD! With the El tracks and trains in the tunnels, the cars, trucks and taxis, the honking, the buildings bouncing the sound around, the people chatting on cell phones, street musicians, and obnoxious teenagers singing in the streets, I was worried that I should have made Iain wear those big noise cancelling headphones the airplane navigators wear on the tarmacs. I did plug his ear with my finger when the Red line train pulled into our stop in the underground tunnel because I felt like a bad mother if I opted not to. It's no wonder Rick is less than good at hearing me these days -- especially when he admits to turning up his Ipod to tune out the noise of the city. He's going to need to see an audiologist at 40 and get fitted with a hearing aid.

Through it all, Iain was a trooper. He was well behaved at Rick's softball game and even humored us while we sat at a bar and had dinner with the team. And he was a great excuse for us to leave at the decent hour of 10pm so we wouldn't be out too late. I will say that it would have been really nice to have a chair at the softball game since nursing and holding an almost 10 lb baby for 7 innings isn't my idea of fun. Thankfully, Rick held his bag of gear-- which was ridiculously heavy and included way too much stuff. Having a newborn again, I've reverted to bringing too much stuff "just in case" and Rick didn't think to leave his dress clothes and umbrella at work to retrieve the next day so we weren't traveling light. With two blocks left to walk home last night, I finally gave in and asked Rick to hold the bag and the baby as my lower back was done. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to going next time when I can drive down in the car, bring a chair, pack the kids and their stuff into a stroller, and not have to lug all of our crap all over the city.

Moral of the story: Having kids in the city really makes having a car a necessity. You can get by without one, but having one makes getting around a lot easier.

Newborn Public Transit

After listening to a thumping noise in our car for a few months, and a previous attempt to get it fixed failed, our car is in the shop. Something about bearings and an axle needing some love. Had the first dealership fixed it when we told them to, it would have been a lot cheaper, but they didn't. Unfortunately, this new dealership fixed it, but they broke the anti-lock break sensor in the process and now we are without a car for another day.

Normally, that wouldn't be much of an issue. And it really isn't an issue since we don't have anywhere critical we need to be. Unfortunately, Rick expected to pick up the car tonight and be able to transport Iain and I to his softball game so we could be the coolest spectators on the field. He left his gear here assuming he'd be able to get it when he got us. Now, he's stuck on a conference call and I'm charged with putting the baby in a sling and ridding the El downtown, with baby gear and Rick's softball gear in tow. Which immediately prompts several questions?

Bus, Train, or Taxi. Bus will take longer. Taxi might not pick us up and I'd have to take the car seat and I don't really know what the rules are for having a baby in a taxi but I've never put Ada in one and I'm not excited about trying it with a two-week-old. Train it is.

Sling or Stroller? Stroller would be better for my back, but if the elevators at the train station are out of order, that leaves me folding up and carrying a 22+ lb stroller up two-plus flights of stairs during rush hour. Not going to happen. Sling it is.

Change Clothes and Apply Minimal Makeup or Go As Is? It's hot. I'm stinky. But I only have 3 outfits that fit, two are dirty, and I'm wearing the third. Changing isn't really an option. Makeup, on the other hand, can be quickly applied as long as the baby gives me five more minutes of sleep.

Wish me luck. Surely this will be an adventure that becomes much more than just a few questions regarding logistics.

Moral of the story: Just getting out of the house with a newborn is a BIG task and equally big accomplishment.

Pregnancy and the CTA

I've started to write about this before and how much I hate taking the El train when I'm pregnant during the winter because people can't tell I'm pregnant and rarely give up their seats for me. That and I have to walk up two flights of stairs or take an elevator sure to trap me until my due date, leaving me huffing and puffing or praying that the doors open when I arrive on the platform. And the whole feeling I get when the train is taking curves at speeds faster than I like just makes me think I'm going to be on the train that tips over and causes mass chaos. Will they tend to me first since I'm pregnant? Will the belly protect me from disaster? Am I more likely to be injured severely because no one gave me their seat? I'm too busy and stressed to deal with this crap.

So, I wised up and started taking the bus yesterday. It turns out, after some hunting on the CTA website, I can walk five blocks and go almost door to door with Ada's daycare instead of trekking to the El, huffing up 2 flights of stairs and being pissed that I don't get a seat. Sweet. I don't really like the bus, mainly due to all of the potholes and the jerkiness of the trip, but it is cheaper, faster, involves less walking, and doesn't involve stairs. The recording reminding passengers to give their seats up to passengers who are elderly or disabled, also includes "expectant mothers" which don't get promoted on the El. I feel like I've moved up in the transportation world just a notch.

And the CTA has a few new features that let me know when the bus will arrive at my stop so I don't have to wait so long, which I love. There is a bus tracker that works online for some routes, but I can't get my stupid blackberry to figure that out yet, and a "bus texter" feature where I can text a code and it tells me how far away the bus is from the stop. Love it.

I almost forgot to add that I really enjoy being able to thank my bus driver for the ride, too. I can say "good morning" when I get on, and "thanks" when I get off unlike having the El driver locked in a box at the front of the train with your only hope of communicating being that you accidentally hit the emergency button in the train car or happen to walk by his or her open window as they pull up to the platform. And instead of thinking the train will tip over and cause a mass catastrophe, I now dream about how, if I went into labor, the bus is already driving right by my hospital and could just run express, dumping people out that get off before the hospital so they could wait for the next bus, and taking the rest with us as they whisk me there mid-contractions. It's a much nicer daydream to have, and since the bus driver is now my friend since I said hello to him or her, it's all good. He's got my back. Ridiculous. I know.

Moral of the story: When it comes to public transit, know your options, and keep them open.

Ada's Airport Adventure

Last weekend, I took Ada to the airport so I could fly to Minneapolis for Cadence's bachelorette party and she could go to grandma's house for the weekend. My in-laws were kind enough to meet me at O'hare to make the trade and it worked perfectly. When Ada saw them, she lit up and emitted high pitched squeals of joy. That made it so much easier for me to leave her for a weekend. That, and I really needed a break.

I thought I was getting a break but instead, I was up until one am on Friday morning, and then two am on Saturday morning. Cadence knows how to keep me going and after eight hours of shopping, wedding errands, long and delicious dinners, and a bachelorette dinner, drinks (water for me) and dancing, I was whipped. She did let me take a nap on Saturday and Sunday, thankfully. At least I didn't have to change any diapers.

I must admit that I did miss Ada and Rick while I was gone. It's hard not to when you spend so much of your time tethered to your child. It was so great to see them at the airport. I found them hanging out in the baggage claim area having a grand ol' time. Ada, in her light pink waffle fabric, tight fitting pajamas with white polka dots and her pink winter boots was quite a sight to see. She had the best time waiting for me as Rick entertained her with the stairs, escalators, and moving walkways that serve the baggage claim area. That running hug and scream of joy with outstretched arms is the best feeling ever after being squished onto a plane, in a seat that barely is wide enough for your hips, and even worse when you are a row from the back and pregnant.

Moral of the story: It's good to get away from the monotony of life if even just for a little bit, so that you can come back refreshed and more appreciative of what you've got.

Less Easily Embarassed

One thing I hate about pregnancy is the resulting incontinence. It's common among women and all doctors recommend doing kegels, kegels, and more kegels to strengthen the pelvic floor and prevent leaks. Nobody tells you these things until after you get pregnant and it is too late to go back. It wasn't bad during the first pregnancy, but I don't think I did enough kegels between pregnancies (Bad Amanda!) so I'm paying for it now.

With so much pressure on my tiny bladder, each cough or sneeze could cause a little leak. It used to be that I'd laugh so hard I'd pee. I wish that was the case and someday I'll get back to that point. Until then, you might notice that I cross my legs and pray that I've remembered to go to the bathroom recently each time I cough or sneeze. Poor Rick tries his best not to laugh at me, and I try not to cry or yell at him because it is funny...but in a sad way, not a ha ha way.

Some days I change underwear three or four times a day. Most days I don't have any problems at all. But if my allergies are acting up or I catch a cold, watch out.

Two weeks ago, we were walking back from a nice dinner out as a family and I happened to sneeze on the walk home. A big sneeze on a full bladder. Thankfully I was wearing black pants and only four blocks from home. That was by far the worst of it.

That episode encouraged me to now carry a backup pair of underwear in my purse. It happened to coincide with my recent trip to Minneapolis and it is always wise to travel with a change of underwear handy in case you lose your luggage. I learned that the hard way in Germany and went underwear shopping for both Rick and I within a few hours of landing. Not how you want to start a trip.

So now I carry nude underwear in my purse. It's just part of my normal purse contents. I think nothing of it. Or I thought nothing of it until we were at Costco this past Monday and Ada was sitting in the cart as I strolled through the frozen foods section. La la la. "What do you have there Ada?" I notice that she's managed to get into my purse in the seat next to her and pull out a pen and, of course, my nude underwear. Pre-Ada, I might have been slightly embarrassed. Post-Ada, it didn't even phase me. I quietly chuckled under my breath and stuffed them back into my purse... and zipped it up this time.

Moral of the story: Things you once found embarrassing, just aren't as bad once you've been exposed to a dozen people during labor and delivery. One of the many perks of having a child.

Our Cute Commute

Ada and I walk down to Alison's house three days a week. It's only two blocks away and I don't take a stroller because I'm doing my best to keep Ada independent and make things easier for Alison. And I'm trying to teach Ada how to walk longer distances without being picked up and held since my back just can't take carrying her for long periods of time (she is over 30 pounds) and I abhor dragging a stroller everywhere we go.

On our commute to Alison and Will's place, we only travel down one street so we either take the east or west side, depending on if the streetlight is in our favor or not. Typically, I forget to text Alison that we are on our way and I have to do a bunch of fumbling through my purse and pockets to locate my phone and send a quick "OMW" ('on my way' for you non-texters) so she can come down to meet us at the door. While I'm busy trying to do all of that, Ada is actively running down the street and saying "Hi" to everyone we meet. It's really kind of cute. It's not as cute when she tries running across the street while the light is still red or gets too close to the road while I'm trying to text and box her out of the street with my thighs. But we manage.

On the way home is when things get fun. She's so excited to get outside and run home and, maybe it's because she is a bit more awake, she just wants to go, go, go. We almost always walk home on the east side of the street so she can stop to say "Hi" to all of her friends. One day Rick joined us and was confused when I told him we couldn't cross the street. You see, Ada has a routine...

First we wave at the kitty statue that waves at us from the window of the nail salon. Then we stop to poke at the flowers in front of the florist. Then we pause at the street to hold Mom's hand as we cross, ideally. Then we dance in front of the pizza place and the CD store since they tend to have speakers projecting music onto the street. Then we pause again at the alley. Then on to the flower box in front of the gift shop where she, occasionally, sticks her finger in the dirt or touches the plants. We come upon another waving kitty at another nail salon at that point. Maybe she'll check out the golden man statue at the bread, wine, and cheese store. Then she's on to find the duck in the window of the shoe store. And finally we arrive at the corner with the streetlight where we do a red light dance until mommy gets dizzy or the light turns in our favor.

As we cross the street, I often think Ada is planning how she can escape my grip and zip past our front steps so she can extend our walk. Depending on the weather, and how much stuff I'm carrying back from work, and how loaded up with toys and crafts her bag has become, she might get me to walk around the block. On days when she is just feeling a bit funky, she has been known to throw a tantrum on the threshold of the front vestibule door, but that's rare. Some days she ends our commute with a quick climb to the top of the stairs and others she turns it into a tug-of-war wherein I typically give up and either carry her or dump the stuff in the house and return to bring her in from the vestibule.

Moral of the story: Kids thrive on routine and consistency. Add a little fun into that and the days just keep getting better.

A COLD Day in Lake Geneva - Day 4

After sleeping in and having breakfast, we cleaned up the condo, kissed DD goodbye, showered and watched the final hours of Cable TV at our disposal before packing up and heading for home. Ada played with Anna's birthday princess set and then we left to drive home to see Daddy and the newly painted house. This is Ada helping Daddy before we left on Friday...

This is a sample of the newly yellow painted walls. The guys did a fabulous job. It looks great. I'm adjusting to the color and after a week, I think I really do like it. And here is the flower that Ada got from the local florist--she gave it to Ada when we walked by on Thursday night. So sweet of her. Oh, and it's in the awesome vase that Cadence got for us. It has neat little poke-er things that hold the flower up.

Moral of the story: Action packed adventures are often the best kind. Enjoy the ride.

A COLD Day in Lake Geneva - Day 3

Sunday Sunday Sunday

We were slow to get started this morning. We had breakfast. Rob and Michelle left and took Anna back to her mom. DD and Ada and I were finishing getting ready when my friends Anne and Rosalyn arrived for a day of fun, shopping and a visit to the apple orchard. Bobpa arrived shortly after they did so I could take his headshot for a Rotary thing. Anne, Rosalyn and I took a tour of the Oktoberfest downtown. Meanwhile, my dad went to go buy a dress shirt that actually fit him since he grabbed one from his closet that wouldn't button at the neck. Minor problem when you need to wear a tie and look professional. I left the ladies to shop while I ran back to take headshots. Ada squeezed in a little nap. Here's a result of the headshots... I might just be killed for posting this but... we'll, it's worth it. At least I'll dye happy and everyone will know what a real goofball my dad is... Here's the proof.

My poor mom! She's been married to him for a long time...

Then we all went to lunch. We tried one place but that wait was too long. We went to another and it was edible but not fabulous. On the way, Ada got the pompom Bobpa brought back from the Iowa vs. Michigan game for her and got it stuck in the wheel of her stroller. That was fun to cut out and fix later that night. What a mess. After lunch, Bobpa left us ladies to our fun. We decided we'd venture up to Elkhorn for an apple orchard experience and a pumpkin hunt. The apples were awesome. The apple cider was yummy. The apple cider donuts were scrumptious. Then we went to the pumpkin patch. It was well picked over since we were there just before closing on the Sunday after a weekend long festival. I expected Ada to be excited to run in this field and pick out a pumpkin. She was more perplexed... and a bit crabby...

Rosalyn cheered her up with this silly thing.

DD picked a pumpkin that wasn't rotting, all green, or too big for us to carry back to the car.Rosalyn let Ada drag her back to the car. Notice the apple in Ada's had that she took from the ground in the orchard and at in the car on the way home. It's her first stolen good. Anne and I just supervise and ate and drank (even though we learned that we don't like apple wine or blueberry wine or blackberry wine or any of the grape-excluding wines) and we were definitely merry.

Then it was back to the condo to bid adieu to our friends, eat leftovers with DD, and cuddle to stay warm. More knitting -- I made a scarf for Ada and gloves for my friend Cadence-- and more Cable TV, this time it was A Cinderella Story and Another Cinderella Story. Sinfully awful and entertaining and mindless at the same time.

I finally crawled into bed and cuddled with Ada until a whopping 9 am Monday morning! Yeah! Sleeping in is awesome!

A COLD Day in Lake Geneva - Day 2

It's Saturday. So much for sleeping in. It's 6:30. Early to rise since I've got an almost-2-year-old in my bed. We go to pick up her cousin at 9:30 and have breakfast with Granny, Grandma Ba, and aunt Terri scheduled at 10. And a surprise(for cousin Anna) visit from my brother, and his girlfriend Michelle.


DD goes to get Anna from her mom's house while Ada and I get a phone charger from the Radio Shack downtown and fill up the CRV with gas. Then we follow DD to breakfast at Millie's because neither of us wants to move our car seat to the other car so we just drive separately. DD's GPS doesn't take the address to Millie's very well. I think we're off the map or something. We got delayed but eventually asked some neighbors out for a walk and arrived safely.


After a yummy breakfast and good family conversation, we did a little shopping and had our own little photo shoot. Anna's in the black coat. Ada's in the hoodie. I didn't exactly check the weather and had no idea it was going to be 20 degrees and frosty. Whoops. My brother brought up a winter coat from DDs house so she was warm the rest of the weekend at least.


After brunch, we went through the shops at Millie's. While walking along the path between shops I, of course, ran into my parent's former neighbor Pat and her sister. Pat is easily in my list of top 20 favorite people in the world. She's awesome and I've really missed her since she moved from Sycamore to split her time between Florida and Wisconsin. Total coincidence that she was there, and unfortunate that my mom had to go back to the condo to wait for the heat repair man and missed her. Mom gets to see her more often than I do and I gave her a dozen hugs so surely one of those can be counted as from my mom.


After shopping, Ada slept on the 15 minute ride home, insuring that yet another "real" nap would be skipped today. We headed back to the condo to check on mom. Heaters dead. We'll have to cuddle until they can fix it next week. Yikes. It's cold out. At least we're still at 63 or 64 inside. We can deal with that.


Off to Oktoberfest downtown Lake Geneva. More shopping, a late "lunch" which was really more of a snack and then it was time to let the girls ride the ponies and walk in the "doll and animal parade" with Uncle Rob's help.



Then it was time for Granny, Terri and Grandma Ba to trek back to Sycamore and for us to head home for playtime and dinner. Rob cooked homemade spaghetti after what seemed like an eternity at the grocery store. That's how time works when I'm hungry. Finally time for bed and an Anna/Ada sleepover, more knitting, and more Cable TV. Bliss.


At 10 I finally crawled into the king size bed with Ada. Around 4 am I got an addition to my bed in the form of Anna and at about 6:30 or 7, Ada woke us both up by dancing in the bed and talking like a Chatty Cathy. Welcome to Sunday.

A COLD Day in Lake Geneva - Day 1

Daddy and Mommy made a deal. Daddy paints the house with his Dad and Brother, Mommy takes Ada to Lake Geneva for a four day weekend with Grandma DD. Mommy gets the house painted and a sort of Momcation, Daddy gets "man time", the house painted and a mini sort of working Dadcation.

What started off as a nice, quiet weekend, turned into a fun-filled, yet cold, adventure.

Ada and I helped Rick prep the house on Friday morning, then drove up to Lake Geneva. DD took us shopping at Target on the premise that it had a grocery store, which it didn't, and we, of course, bought a bunch of stuff anyway. That's what you do in Target right? It's okay because Ada came out with a new pink shopping cart full of groceries (supposedly for her birthday –in December) -- they are fake but that still counts as grocery shopping right? And we finally had a chance to get Anna her birthday present - Little People Princess Wedding. Oh, and cute Halloween socks for Anna, Woodstock socks with pink stripes for Ada.

Then we went to Wal-mart for groceries. I made the mistake of letting Ada hold the strawberry container, which she got her finger stuck in, forcing me to open it and give her a strawberry. Before I could get the leaves and stem off of it, she had eaten the whole thing. And another. Finally, I wised up by the third strawberry and bit off the stem and toss it out before giving them to her. No. I did not rinse them before giving them to her.

Nearing the end of our Wal-mart experience, we sampled some really good apple pie and some honeycrisp apples. Yum. Ada helped DD and I clear the sample woman’s table so she could pack up and go home. We know the true meaning of sacrifice.

Back to the condo to unload and then off to dinner. Ada pushed her stroller all the way to the restaurant about six blocks away. It was pretty amazing. I pushed her for the last half block since she was just done. Having missed a “real” nap and only taken a partial one in the car for half an hour, she was less than chipper at dinner. We got fish fry – it’s Wisconsin on a Friday night. That’s just what you do. Ada was fussy but things were okay…until DD got a bone. DD does not do bones. So much for dinner. I ate quickly since Ada was ready to go and DD was clearly done. DD walked with Ada for a few minutes while I finished up. Then Ada and I played outside while DD waited for the bill. We weren’t all that impressed and I doubt we’ll be going back to that restaurant anytime soon.

Then we strolled back to the condo. I pushed Ada this time and she wasn’t very happy about it. Once inside, she got ready for bed and cuddled with DD. Life was good. But the heat didn’t seem to be working and we were still at 64 degrees when it was set at 70. Hmmm… might have to have that checked in the morning. Nighty night. I curled up with my knitting and cable TV, the ultimate indulgence (a complete brain rot.) DD put Ada to bed in Bobpa’s king size bed and I joined her later. You’d think there would be enough room for us but Ada sleeps right in the middle which is less than optimal for me. At least she’s warm and cuddly. Maybe I’ll get more room tomorrow night.

Serenity Now! Rick's Softball Tournament

While Rick was busy rounding the bases and trying to help his team advance to the finals, which unfortunately they fell just short of, Ada was busy trying to recover from a fun-filled day at the baseball diamonds.



For the past 4 years, Rick has been a very active member of his company softball team. It's a design league filled mostly with Architects and Interior Designers and the like. They've been doing this for years and he's become a consistent member of his firm's team. They play on Thursday nights and then they go drink and be merry, hopefully celebrating a W in the win column but frequently just drowning their sorrows. Each season culminates in a Saturday softball tournament in which each team is guaranteed at least two games, or maybe it's three.

The first year I was the supportive wife and guardian of all the food, beer and other necessary supplies needed for the festivities.

The second year, I was pregnant with Ada so I again got to watch all the stuff and make everyone jealous that I had this fancy, reclining camping chair to lounge in while they were hot and sweaty from running the bases.

The third year, I was also dubbed "mom" since I was now a mom and the only person who happened to carry bandages in her diaper bag for when the guys got blisters or raspberries from sliding into base.

This year I got to be Ada's herder, entertainer, sunscreen apply-er, cook, and distract-or since she was old enough to get into everything and she hated it when daddy was on the field because it meant she couldn't play with him. Oh the fits she threw.

Let me back up to the start of this Saturday. We were in charge of getting ice and bringing our cooler. We were already running late because that's what happens when you have a kid and are trying to get somewhere by 9 am and have to pack for a whole day of being outside in the middle of a park. Rick's all worried they will start without him or not have enough players and get disqualified so he's driving a bit faster than I can appreciate. We stop at the local CVS to get ice and, of course, it's in the back of the store. I ask the clerk if I can pay for it quick and then go get it. No. Of course not. She needs the bar code. Isn't CVS a convenience store? Guess not. So I go back to get the ice and get up to the registers behind t-h-e s-l-o-w-e-s-t p-e-r-s-o-n i-n t-h-e u-n-i-v-e-r-s-e. Painfully, I wait, while holding a big, cold, bag of ice. I have my money out and ready to go. I've been hustling through the store. It's clear that I am in a hurry. Finally, after at least 45 seconds to buy something stupid like a pack of gum, it's my turn. She scans the ice, I hand her the money. "Do you have a CVS card?" "Yes, but I'm not getting it out. I left it in the car. This purchase isn't worth it." and I wanted to add "AND I'M IN A HURRY GOSH DARN-IT!

Great. Got the ice. We drive downtown to, is it Grant Park? I'm not sure what they call it. I think it's just south of Grant Park so it probably has some other name like Mayor Daley Park or something silly like that. Once we get close, Rick is ecstatic to see that all the roads are blocked off for some parade. Mexican Fiesta or something like that. And then Gaelic Fest is just north of that, in the actual Grant Park. GREAT! We detour at high speed with Rick's patience running even thinner. I'm next to him saying, "Honey, slow down. Don't worry. We can't be the only ones running late. Even if we are, they always have a ten minute forfeiture rule before you get disqualified so it will be okay." It doesn't really work but at least I tried.

We decide to park. It's 9:06 when I go to pay the parking machine for the day. Of course, it we were in by 9am, it would only be $10 but it's 9:06 so now it's $18 for the day. "Are you @$#%^&* kidding me!!!" I scream. Then I mentally try to calm myself down. Rick unloads the car and picks everything up, as if he is a pack mule, and starts to carry what he can to the field -- which is a good 4 blocks away I'd say. That's half of a mile. Yeah. Ouch.

I'm in charge of Ada and the diaper bag, her stroller and another bag. He's in a hurry so I suggest he goes on ahead and we'll follow. With that much stuff, we can't hold him back or he'll pass out and never get to play in today's tournament. As he leaves, Ada and I try to keep up but we fail. And that makes Ada mad. No. It was more than mad. It was pissed off to the millionth degree. Oh the tantrum she threw. It was, and still is to this day, the biggest tantrum I have ever seen from her. She threw her body onto the ground. She kicked her legs and slapped her hands. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Her face was bright red. She was shaking her head back and forth as her hair flopped back and forth with it. She was MAD. I let her work it out for about two minutes and couldn't stand her making such a scene on the street this early. I got her off the ground and tried to settle her down. I put all of my bags into her stroller -- we could only fit the cheap little umbrella stroller in the trunk so it doesn't hold much and I still have the diaper bag on my shoulder--and she insists on pushing the stroller to the fields. Fine by me. She starts pushing it and I have my hand on the handle to help guide it. NO. That's not what she wants. She pushes my hand away. Then another tantrum. Same as before.

I wait another two minutes for it to pass. Wow. This is going to be a l-o-n-g day.

We get started again. She's pushing the stroller toward the street and getting stuck at the break for the alley. I'm trying to help and again, tantrum.

We get to the corner of Michigan Avenue and have to cross four lanes of traffic when the light turns. She wants to go now but we have the orange hand keeping us right where we are. The whining starts as a half dozen people have now gathered with us at the crosswalk. After what felt like four eternities, the light finally changed in our favor and we got to cross the street. She went slow and insisted on doing it herself. Whining the whole way. We made it and I silently thank God for letting us get this far. We've really only made it a block and a half. I'm mentally exhausted. This really isn't going well.

I get Ada into a park that runs along Michigan Avenue and she looks like a drunk toddler pushing this cart all over the sidewalk in anything but a straight line. She wants to go east but we need to go North. Another tantrum. Fine. Do it your way. We start to go east. Then, thankfully, Rick comes running through the park and saves me. Just like that.

I responded with "You're lucky you came back for me because I just might have given her away to the next person I saw."

It was that bad.

Luckily, he somehow managed to calm her down and help me get everything to the baseball diamonds. We were on the far side of the field, of course, and had to walk another five minutes before we could get settled but, in the end, we made it. We set up camp and I had, not one but yes, TWO glazed donuts. That's when things started looking up for me.


Moral of the story: When parenting is at it's worst, I remember the episode of Seinfeld where Frank learns to deal with stress by yelling "Serenity Now!" It's good to have something like that in your own stress management toolbox.

The Dentist aka The Longest Day Ever

Today it was time to take Ada on a little adventure to the dentist's office. My doctoress said it was time to get her teeth checked since she is almost two years old. I personally thought that was a little early since she only has eight teeth and nothing seems out of the ordinary. As it turns out, that's what my Dentist thought too -- it's a bit early. They did, however, encourage me to bring Ada with me to my cleaning which just so happened to be due.

I'm not sure why, but it seems like the majority of people I know dislike going to the dentist. I really don't know what that's all about since I really enjoy dental visits. You might assume from that statement that I was born with perfect teeth. In reality, I had two years of braces, a palate expander to make my mouth wider, and have had about 10 teeth extracted, and at least 6 cavities that I can remember (four of which I blame on my summer in France and the lack of fluoride in the water). The dentists in my life have inflicted a good deal of pain on me, but they have also improved my smile and gave me the confidence to laugh without covering my mouth.

My parents and I have invested a lot into this smile (Thanks Mom and Dad!) and I'm not going to mess that up with shoddy maintenance. I plan to instill the fear of rotten pirate teeth in Ada, as a strong incentive for daily brushing and flossing (although black-encrusted teeth would come in handy at Halloween parties someday, I guess). She's already great with a toothbrush and I plan to encourage that skill as much as I can -- after all, by the time she's in high school I know braces will cost the same as a second home so I'm hoping she gets Rick's (far superior and straight) dental genes.

So today, we went to the dentist. And I will say it was quite the adventure.

It all started with me planning how to get downtown. My dentist is in the building south of Macy's in the loop and from our place, it's a hike. Driving is tough unless you want to pay $25+ to park, or maybe $8-$12 for two hours if you are lucky enough to find a meter space, or $18ish if you park a few blocks southwest and hike in, or I could pay $4 for two hours if I parked near my office and then took the train in for another $4.50 round trip, or I could just take the train...but what if the elevators aren't working? Then I'll get stranded with Ada and the stroller and who needs that drama? The bus takes forever and is still $2 each way. I think Ada is free since she's under 2 but I don't know what the cutoff age is for when they start charging. And on top of everything else, I really need to return sweaters I bought at Target that Rick says are too big and I need to drop by a bunch of work papers to his office that he brought home last week when Ada was sick to work on from home. Gesh. What to do...?

As it turns out, we are also kitty sitting for our friends that just got married and live on the south side. They were nice enough to give me parking passes for their neighborhood so I could park while Ada goes to "play" with the kitties. I say that because they don't really like her but I feel it's important for them to know people still exist in their life, so we stop by to check on them. Brilliant me got the idea to drive down to their house, stop at their local target on Roosevelt, park, and then stroll Ada downtown for the appointment, then back to the car, up to Rick's office for the drop off of work stuff and then home. Easy right? Never.

We start off at 10:30. My appointment is at 11:30. It's 15 minutes to Aaron and Cassie's. No problem. No time for Target so that gets stricken from the schedule and moved to the "maybe later" list.

As I lock the front door, I realize I forgot the Target returns inside. Open the door, grab the bag, re-lock, and begin to herd Ada, the stroller, the Target bag, the diaper bag and my purse through vestibule door number one, down the stairs, to vestibule door number two, down the last few steps and out to the sidewalk. All's well so far. Down the street to the car. Get Ada loaded. Loading everything else into the trunk -- thankfully we are parked far enough away from the car behind us so that I can swing open the door to the CRV and get everything in, and Rick pre-loaded his work crap saving me two more trips. I go to collapse the BOB stroller and ... nothing. Not gonna do it. The darn thing won't collapse. After five tries, I give up and lift the whole thing into the car. It's bent over but not collapsed and, amazingly, it fits. Thank God for the CRV. Let's roll.

(Little voice in my head --Damn, that reminds me I never pushed in the mirror that sticks out into the street when I parked last-- hope it's still attached next time I go out...we'll see...)

Once in the car I call Rick to complain about the stroller. His reply is something like "You just have to pull up really hard."

To which I respond, "Um. No. I tried that. I know how it works and something is stuck. I'm not patient but I'm also not a moron. Whatever. It's in the car." We're on our way. Yippee! 45 minutes should be just right.

We get to Aaron and Cassie's and park nearby on 14th street. I get out and unlock Ada so she can start getting out of the car. I go to get the stroller out and set it up. Then I convert my purse contents to the diaper bag so I have a lighter load for the trek ahead of us. Ada's got a balloon in the car from my brother's baby shower and, of course, it blows out the back door so I have to run down the street chasing it, like a complete dork, as I worry that Ada will somehow jump out of the car and get hit by oncoming traffic all for a silly yellow balloon with only enough helium to hover a few feet from the ground. I catch the balloon, put it in the front seat, much to her disappointment, get Ada out of the car and loaded into the stroller. She's mad. She doesn't want to be in the stroller. She wants to walk of course. She walks for a block, as I continually hurry her, and then gives in to the stroller. Finally. Now we're moving. We go about four blocks to Roosevelt road and see a movie being filmed. That's fun. We'll check it out on the way back. 25 minutes of walking lapses. We are now downtown and getting all sorts of smiles. There aren't a lot of strollers in the loop and Ada's a ham so she tends to attract attention.

We get to the building and push the handicap button for the door. I am again reminded of how thankful I am that I'm fully abled and remind myself to go out of my way to help the disabled any chance I get since life is so much harder when you can't use revolving doors or even just open them yourself.

Up the elevator and into the dentist's office. All of the ladies there just ogle over Ada. We go in for my exam and she is an angel. Perfect in every way. Completely enamored by the process. Not afraid at all. Wants to sit on my stomach to get a closer look. Practically crawls into my mouth at one point. Adorable. She got her own toothbrush and a toy for being so good. I was shocked.

Then it was time to check out and leave. She got to go behind the scenes at reception and play with a Highlighter--which we still have because she threw a tantrum when it was time to leave and Rick has an appointment Thursday so he can return it--and the ladies again loved her. Then it was time to leave and she was having nothing of it. A few tears and screams later, we were on our way down in the elevator. All was back to being well with the world (and Ada had a death grip on that yellow Highlighter). We called Rick for lunch and agreed to meet at Macy's food court.

La la la... we get to Macy's and have to go to the second entrance on Wabash because that's where they have the handicap accessible entrance. Yippee. We find the entrance and push the button... and of course, it's broken. So a fine gentleman coming out holds the door open for me and we open the inner door ourselves. We get into the store and immediately I look lost, because I am, and two gentlemen installing sale signs explain that there are two food courts at Macy's, one on seven and one on the lower level. I pick the lower level and text Rick to meet us there. Of course, he arrives and wants to go to the one on seven. We're off to ask for more directions to get to the express elevator to seven--we don't have all day here okay? The guy at the Frango mints table is very helpful and we quickly find the express to seven.

At seven, we notice that it's a zoo. We decide to get burgers because they are the most un-friendly Ada-thing to eat in this whole place (or really that's just where Rick chooses since the line is shortest.) Ada meanwhile just wants to run free and gawk at the fellow lunch patrons. Rick's ordering. I'm chasing Ada. Chaos. I finally catch her and go to see our status on food. I thought we had to get into this other really long line and wait for our food. In asking this question, I pinch Rick inadvertently when trying to tug his jacket on the backside of his bicep. That didn't feel good and he's a little bent out of shape. I soon learn that we don't have to get into the long line because that is for Frontera Grill. My bad Rick Bayless.

Rick takes Ada and goes to find a table. That leaves me with the stroller and a tray with a pint glass filled with coke, another glass containing a chocolate shake, and now two burgers. The guy hands them to me and asks if I need help getting to my seat. Of course I do but I say somehow I'll manage or make two trips. I then proceed to balance the tray of food on the handlebars of the stroller and make my way to our table. Once there, I, fittingly, run over Rick's foot with the stroller and nearly drop everything. Thankfully, nothing spills but he shoots me another dirty look to which I quickly reply "I am not out to get you. The pinch and the stroller were both accidents. I'm just trying to sit down to eat for Pete's sake." To which he smiles the shared "parenting can be rough sometimes" smile and we're back to being all good and happily married again.

Then Ada goes into nightmare mode. She won't sit still, only wants the chocolate shake (I taught her well), and won't eat anything else. After a few minutes of this, I give up. I tried to let her run, and even went up to eight and back down on the escalator. We did a lap around the food court and I finally kissed Rick goodbye (after eat my fries and most of my spicy -read: crappy- turkey burger), loaded the stroller and set off for the car. We got all the way back to the exit on the first floor when I realized I had to make a pit stop, and Ada needed a diaper change. Back to search for the elevators.

The sign said handicap accessible restrooms were on every floor but the one we were on. We go up to 2, even though I meant to hit LL. We get off long enough for me to see it's the men's floor and I'm back on the elevator down to the Lower Level. I ask a MAC makeup artist for directions to the restroom and we head that way. Once inside the four bays of bathroom stalls, I scope the place out in search of the one handicap stall that will fit me and Ada and the stroller. Too bad it's impossible to get to without closing three stall doors on the way. Thank God again that I'm not trying to do this in a wheelchair or I would have screamed and starting throwing things at this point. After that, we wash our hands and I load Ada up on the Koala Bear changing table.

Once she's changed and we've washed up, I think it's finally time to trek back to the car. That is, until we pass the smoothie stand. We HAVE to stop for a smoothie. Ada didn't eat much and my lunch wasn't that great. So we get a berry smoothie. She drinks a quarter of it before we even get out of the store (again through the broken handicap doors.)

About a third of the way to the car, Ada finishes the smoothie. I had, maybe, 25% of it. And that's being generous. It was a pretty large drink mind you. Can't wait to change that diaper. Yikes. Once the smoothie is done, we look to recycle it and I'm again reminded of how much I hate our city's lack of recycling receptacles downtown. Pretty sad for as "Green" as we claim to be. We go a few more blocks and Ada starts fussing, again. I let her out to walk. But she doesn't want that. I giver her a toy. Nope. Still not happy. After a block I just shove her back into the stroller and keep going. So what if people stare at me for being a bad mom and not catering to her needs. There is nothing I can do for her until we get to the car, so deal with it.

We are finally just a few blocks from the car and a crowd has formed. Oh yeah, they are filming a movie down here today. So we stop to gawk and see what's going on. It's clear that they are filming and someone famous is down there but what, and who? Being the friendly person that I am, I ask a few guys standing nearby. "Do you know what movie this is?" "Little Fockers. The 3rd in the Meet the Parents series." Oh yeah. That must be... Robert De Niro over there filming. Neat. We stay for about five minutes and then we head back to the car. I jam everything back in and we're off to Rick's office for the big drop off of work stuff.

It only takes about five minutes to get to Rick's office since we are driving and driving is SO much faster than walking. I call Rick to come down and meet me (thank goodness for cell phones even though I frequently curse them). As he approaches the car I wave all kids of mom-dad sign language to let him know to be VERY VERY quiet (I'm not hunting wabbit...) because Ada is sleeping in her car seat already. He silently removes the stroller, all of his stuff, puts the stroller back and shuts the door. Then he comes around to my side for a quick peck goodbye and a "see ya later." It's finally time to head home.

What feels like a gazillion years later, we are back home with clean teeth, a borrowed Highlighter, new toothbrushes and toothpaste, bellies full of yummy smoothie -- Ada's more so than mine-- and she's had a mini nap. All is back to being well with the world.

Moral of the story: When you live in the city and have a toddler, even the smallest errand can become a full-blown adventure. Follow the girl scouts' and boy scouts' advice: Be Prepared.

PS - Rick walked in to the dentist's office that Thursday morning, pulled out the Highlighter and the whole office erupted in laughter. They knew exactly what it was and why he was returning it, much to his surprise.

Labor Day, Go Go Go

To grandma's to get Ada (she stayed at Ba's and we stayed at DDs).
A nice breakfast date for us while Ada and Ba got in a few more tickles.
From breakfast, straight to Chicago.
From unloading and parking the car, to the WOOGMS (Wellington Oakdale Old Glory Marching Society) Parade down the street.
At the parade, the Jessie White Tumbling Team preformed and we made new friends (imagine that... Ada got some random woman to give her a little flag and I met a new mom neighbor who's daughter is 10 days older than Ada --whereas Colette was on the other side of our house and Eva was 10 days younger than Ada... freaky).

Within five seconds of getting home and closing the front door, our friend Bob arrived.
Rick made lunch as the men prepared for the pending fantasy draft down the street.
Ada and I went down for naps as they snuck out the front door.
Awake in time for dinner.
While they fantasized about football, we dined with our friend Lisa who lives just blocks away.
We walked Lisa home and on the way back, we happened to walk by as Rick and Bob were leaving the draft and we snapped them back into reality.
Once home, we started playing our favorite board game--Settlers of Catan.
Ada crashed soon thereafter.
Bob won, then went home.
9pm, time for bed.
Goodnight.

Insomnia or a lump in my bed?

I'm not sure if I have a temporary case of occasional insomnia or if I'm just tired of having Ada as a lump in my bed. Since we got back from camping, she's been way off her sleep schedule. She was great about going to bed and taking naps and sleeping so well before we went camping. Now that we are back, I don't know what's up.



I think she's teething for starters. Why do we need teeth again?



She's fighting bedtime like someone turned off Finding Nemo just before Nemo escapes and finds his father (sorry if I just ruined it for you).



Monday and Tuesday she screamed. Wednesday she fell asleep on the couch cuddling. Thursday the couch again. And last night I just let her holler it out for about 12 minutes. I think that's what we'll have to do. Poor thing. I hate having her scream it out but it has worked so well for us in the past. She hasn't been going down easily for naps with our friend who is watching her now either. Alison has to go in and try again after letter her cry for a bit. Then the nap is less than an hour. Hopefully we can reset her this weekend but that's unlikely because Daddy's home and she doesn't nap much when Daddy's home.



Maybe I'll get some more good luck and she'll magically get her new teeth in painlessly and she'll go right back to sleeping like she was before, and I'll get some more sleep in my nice, comfy, warm, lump-free bed. That's what I wish for.



Moral of the story: Don't be surprised if vacation screws up your kid's schedule. Just be sure to rest up on vacation (instead of playing games until 1am) so you can have the strength to retrain and rebound.