All things new and fun.

August 28, 2009 at 6:30 am | In Baby Tasks | Leave a Comment
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Benjamin has this rather new, rather fun (to him) game that he has been playing for the past week. Seems that the game involves taking items from around the house and throwing them in the garbage can regardless of how many times I say no or try to stop him in some way. In fact, when I say no, that just prompts more giggling and rapturous joy because he has a genetic tendency towards quick-witted naughtiness. The other day, I was sitting by the front door waiting for Benjamin to come over so that I could put on his shoes and I noticed him running back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room/office/hovel laughing. I caught his eye on a few passes and he would laugh maniacally and dart back into the kitchen. It was on one of these runs that I noticed the bright pink piece of chalk in his hand that was mysteriously absent upon his return from the kitchen. Curious, I arose to investigate and as I entered the kitchen, he yelled “No,” as he is wont to do when he knows that he is being naughty and is about to be called on a behavior. But let’s reflect on this for a second. Because prior to this point, I had never told him that he could not collect things and throw them in the garbage because he had never done that before. So he intrinsically knew that what he was doing was naughty without me having to tell him. And of course, right? How could something so pleasurable be OK? When do we ever really get to do exactly what we want at any given moment? I mean we might just do it anyway – like, say, sneaking out of work early or some such thing – but we know we are doing something “wrong.” It’s amazing how young we are when we gain that knowledge. Anyways….

When I got into the kitchen, I noticed a rather bulging garbage bin. Inside were various food items from the cabinet, office supplies and some of his play chalk. I laughed, which was the WORST thing in the world to do because now it has become this thing that he does to amuse himself AND his parents. Whoo-boy. Last night I found the salt shaker, the pepper mill, two packs of mints, some peanut butter, two boxes of pasta, the same piece of bright pink chalk and the dog’s chew toy in the garbage. It’s such a random collection of things that I really do find it amusing, but I know it’s not really such a great habit to allow.

Aside from this, Benjamin has also learned to blow spit bubbles. Now, this is a gross habit to be sure, but I totally do it as well when I am in the privacy of my own home or driving in my car. Last night, he was sitting on my lap watching school bus videos (and please, won’t you come to our house for a fun night of fine entertainment?) and he kept jerking his head back. I thought he developed some tic or Tourette’s (and I’m not making a joke here. It’s the first thing that popped into my head) and I looked around to his face to see what was happening. And there he was,  pooling up the saliva in his mouth and blowing spit bubbles. He jerked his head and quasi-jumped every time one of the bubbles popped.

He’s done something else new as well and just as I was about to type it, the thought escaped my memory and now I am going to have that brain headache I get when I forget a piece of information that I wanted to share. He draws on his chalkboard with chalk, but that wasn’t what I wanted to say. OHHH…. yes. But this is what I wanted to say. If you ever decide to join us for breakfast toast some morning, be sure to check the toaster first before putting your bread in because, almost without fail, there will be a massive piece of sidewalk chalk jammed in there. Both Adam and I have been caught unawares by this. I found it first when I was trying to make my toast for breakfast and I just could not get the bread into one of the slots. I was like, “What the?!!” and then I peered in the toaster and the chalk was peering right back up at me.

Good times!

Another new series of changes await us.

August 24, 2009 at 2:36 pm | In Mamahood | Leave a Comment
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Life never likes to stay the same. And this is cool. I don’t mind. I can ride out the changes with the best of them. But, as with every period of change, I wonder how we will all acclimatize ourselves to the new normal.

Today marks my last Monday off and the end of my four day work weeks. At this very second, I am fine with this. I’ve had a couple of weeks to process the information. The change is the result of good things happening at work. People are taking us – and the work that we do – very seriously and I simply need to have a presence in the office every day. Since I am a very driven, energetic person, this side of me is absolutely singing with joy. The other side? Well, I can’t tell how my emotions will shake out in the upcoming weeks. Fine with a 15% chance of sadness, no doubt. I’ve really enjoyed having my own special “Mama Day” with Ben. It’s the only time that he and I are a terrible twosome the entire week. Sure, I’ll incorporate some quality Ben and Mama time into the new routine, but I’ll miss the “Sky’s The Limit, Fly By the Seat of Our Pants” feel that these days have had for us.

To celebrate and mark the end of this type of arrangement, I took us to the zoo. The zoo was one of the first places that I would regularly take us on our outings. Last year at about this time, Ben was still drinking formula, still breastfeeding a little bit and just eating baby food. I rolled him all over the park and talked to him about all the animals. This time, Ben and I spent an hour running around the play zoo and then sharing a bit of cheese pizza for lunch. I talked to him about the animals and he talked back to me. I said “Oh, look at that bear!” And then he would say “Bear!” Or something to that effect. I still had a stroller, but I spent most of the time frantically trying to catch up with him as he found something new and interesting to explore. The day was bittersweet and, for the first time that I can EVER remember, I’m not all that looking forward to Adam coming home because that, my friends, is the end of routinized Mama-Only time.

I really hope that Ben will understand, in time,  that this very delicate balance I create around work and home and school is the very best thing we can do for our family. I hope that he remembers all the times I was there and glosses over the times that I had to be at work or in class. He won’t see me chugging the 2 glasses of caffeinated beverages in preparation of entering the house after a day of work, but hopefully he’ll remember me sitting on the floor, making myself available to all his fun and fanciful whims until it’s time for bed. Under the new schedule, he won’t wake up with me in the mornings because I’ll be working 7am to 3pm (!!!), but hopefully he’ll enjoy laying down for bed with me at night. Mostly I just need him to understand that he means the world to me.

30 days and counting…

August 23, 2009 at 3:34 pm | In Quickie Update | Leave a Comment

We’ll be moving in 30 days.

That’s 4 weekends to pack and then the one to move.

Have you seen our place? The books. The papers. The toys. My CLOSET.

My last class starts Wednesday. I’ll be working 5 days a week now, not 4.

Yeah, I’m giving up on that whole “quitting caffeine” thing I was talking about the other day.

Month Eighteen.

August 20, 2009 at 5:27 pm | In Monthly Letter | Leave a Comment
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Dear Benjamin,

Today I am writing your 18-month letter in the back seat of the car en route to our vacation spot. The foothills of the Appalachians are rolling along outside my window and the day, though not sunny, is very pleasant. And you are, of course, sleeping next to me in your car seat, your mouth hanging open and your pacifier dangling precariously from your lips. Yes, I said pacifier. At 19 months, you still use your pacifier religiously. There was a brief interlude there when we got it away, but you reclaimed it with a vengeance and now refuse to be without it. Although you are currently unaware of this, I have been planning an operation I’d like to call the Pacifier Elimination Project, or PEP. PEP has been strategically planned, using only the finest information from sources as esteemed as a woman in Toys R’ Us that approached Daddy one day when he was buying you toy trains. And the internet. Always the internet. PEP will involve us setting a cold turkey day and then will involve removal of the plug from your – likely – screaming hands. It probably won’t be pretty. We’ll all be upset. Trust me. We are loathe to take away comfort objects, particularly when they come in handy at restaurants and other outings, but the time has come and gone with this one. PEP will commence in 2 months and counting.

The past month was very active. Very, very active. It also heavily involved Mama’s parents, which was a nice change from only seeing them intermittently throughout the year. We spent time in Illinois, time in Michigan, time at parks, time in restaurants, time walking round the neighborhood. In short, where there was something interesting to be had, we were there. You experienced a number of firsts during this time. You went to your very first carnival. Your response was to be expected – you were less than interested in the rides and the food and the carnie merriment and more invested in pushing your stroller by yourself down the sidewalk.  Nana bought tickets for you and Daddy and I to ride on a carousel and within 3 seconds of the ride starting, you clung to my neck for dear life and would not let go. I tried to just hold you, but the carnie was having none of that and made us all sit on one of those benches. This was fine by me, and apparently even more fine by you, because you started to laugh and smile a bit then every time our bench swung past Nana and Grandpa. Which happened every 6 seconds or so because I think the carnie had the speed cranked up to 45 miles per hour. I was so nauseous at the end of the ride that I had to stop and gather my bearings before stepping down. It passed quickly and we were able to enjoy the rest of the evening without Mama embarrassingly tossing her cookies.

You also picked fruit for the first time, though you refused to eat the bounty resulting from your labor. By picking fruit, of course, I mean that you ran around the blueberry farm throwing small pebbles into the grass. But if I held you in my arms and put you near a bush, you would pick a blueberry or two. Intent on still making the experience your own, however, you would generally throw the blueberries onto the ground rather than in the bucket tied around my neck. I assuaged the guilt by assuring myself that little woodland creatures would appreciate the blueberry buffet you laid out for them and reasoned that the blueberry farmer would marvel at your toddler altruism.

You walked through a little baby swim pool for the first time as well. Walked. Not sat it. Not splashed in. Not played with toys in. You simply stepped into the pool, walked across the inside diameter, stepped out and then turned around and repeated the process about 25 times. I had purchased this little wetsuit for you that I thought would be perfect for frolicking in the water, but I think nary a drop touched the fabric. I was actually quite surprised that you did not just immediately sit yourself down and slash away in the pool, as you are a bit of a water bug. You love your bath, you love the lake and you like playing in the sink. All of these things involve water, as does a baby pool, so naturally you can imagine my surprise when you could not have been less interested.  I thought for sure that I would never be able to get you out of it, but as it was, I had to coax you into using it.

This past 4th of July was the first that you were actually cognizant of what was going on around you. That does not mean that you savored the holiday, mind you. In fact, you were, if I may be so bold, quite the little anger pot that day. We attempted to go to the Farmer’s Market to buy some fresh doughnuts and coffee, but both you and Daddy began to throw a temper tantrum when asked to stand in a line that was as long at 15 whole people. So that idea was quickly scrapped for a leisurely stroll around the fruit and vegetable stalls. However, that idea was scrapped when you became incredibly angry that we would not let you run around tripping everybody.  Committed to doing something, I thought it might be nice to take in the parade that was winding past on a nearby street, but we were not standing in our spot for more than 30 seconds before you started screaming and demanding to be released so that you could run into the street and presumably join in. At this point, Daddy and I scrapped any plans of having you be around crowds and walked over to the quiet baseball field across the street from the apartment and let you run around for a bit. Never ones to learn our lessons the easy way, we attempted to take you to dinner after your nap and you screamed your way through dinner.  We decided to play the fireworks-viewing by ear that evening and were set against taking you, but they set them off practically in our living room, so they aroused your suspicion and we walked downstairs and watched them for a bit. You were interested, but not really. The large ones that filled the sky seemed to catch your eye, but the rest you treated with casual indifference. I kinda feel the same way.

I’d like to bring up the issue of toddler manners, though, because, well, I have finally stumbled across one of the few things in life that ruthlessly mocks everything I thought I knew about raising children.  The thing is, Benjamin, it is really hard work raising a happy, healthy, well-mannered child. I think that, at your core, you are a sweet little boy that will be very well-mannered as you grow up. It’s just something about the way that you seem to pay attention when we wear a look of disapproval. However, you, very much like your Mama, test boundaries.  You see just how far you can push things before someone steps in and says “No, you can’t do that.” Oh man was I like this all throughout childhood and adolescence. Ask Nana and Grandpa when you are older. I am the reason they went grey in their 40s. But you seem to know inherently, as do I, when a line has been crossed between ok and not ok, between nice and mean, silly and pouty, frustrated and petulant. I mean, I have quite a few years on you, so my system is more refined, but I see the early foundations of this type of personality starting to form within you. I think this will be both a good thing and a challenging thing. It will be good because I know what you are doing. I know when you are looking out of the corner of your eye (and yes, you do this), you are slyly surveying the scene, plotting your next move and attempting to get away all in one go. You don’t want to let on to what you are thinking or scheming because then someone might try to stop you. It’s exactly what I do, so I know what to look for and sometimes I amaze myself by managing to be two steps ahead of what you are about to do. It’s almost as though I can see the scene playing out in your head as clearly as if it were my own. This is good, I think. But it will also be challenging, I think, to be confronted with someone like me because I know how tenacious I can be in doing exactly what I want to do. My charming persona hides a pretty ambitious inner self and I can be very crafty. I see this in you. Because we’re smart, we can figure out how to work a situation. Daddy is like this, too, so you’ve inherited a genetic tendency towards wiliness that will likely be both fascinating and terrifying to watch.

Ahhhh… and I have resumed the writing of this letter now on the latter side of our vacation. And, humorously enough, I am in Tennessee again. We just spent two weeks on vacation, but I’ll tell you all about this in your next monthly letter. Truth be told, I am so exhausted from the trip – and my mind is bogged down with all the newly minted memories – so I am having a really hard time remembering everything that happened in July since the events of the past couple of weeks are looming so large.

Let’s see. Since you’ve turned 18 months old, you’ve become a good, if not intermittently finicky, eater. You love Mexican and Italian dishes just like Mama and Daddy and you will never turn away beans and rice, pasta or pizza. This makes our dinners enjoyable on many counts because these are the foods I love to eat all the time and I now justify their repeated presence by stating that we should stick to meals we know you’ll love to eat. You are not bad with your veggies, though you could be better. Of course, the same could be said about me. You actually seem to like broccoli, whereas I liken the taste to licking old garbage off a cruddy boot. But I put on a big, fake happy face when I eat it so that you can see how much Mama “loves” eating foods that are good for her. You also seem to love fruits and I Daddy and I are quite the fan of these, so this is good. We always have plenty on hand for you to tickle your taste buds with. When we are not lapsing into snack attacks, we all manage to eat very well and maintain a very healthy diet. Then Daddy brings home a box of Snackwells and the rest is history.

Much of the 18th month of your life was dominated by Mama and Daddy’s discussions of where to move. You won’t remember these and let’s all pause to thank the heavens for this. We debated a house versus an apartment versus the city versus the suburbs versus a townhouse versus a condo versus a long commute with cheaper rents versus a shorter route with costlier rents and all manner in between. We’d like to have purchased a house and, barring that, a townhouse. But it just isn’t the right time. There is the matter of my position being grant-funded and Daddy losing his job and then the fact that houses are so expensive in this market that I simply cannot justify paying that much for some walls, windows and a roof. We’d like to give you space – both indoors and out – to roam around and play to your heart’s content, but when you have a Mama that chose the PhD path and a Daddy that is planning on going back to school, too, well.. space is a luxury that we can’t afford. And if you must know, Benjamin, I kind of like apartment living. True, when I bang my toe after tripping over one of your toys for the hundredth time in an evening, I curse the lack of space and beg the universe for just 200 more square feet. Just 200! And then I stop and realize that I kinda love how crammed in like sardines we are. How I can always see you and Daddy from my line of vision anywhere I am sitting in an apartment space. How it makes it impossible to be disconnected from one another because how, exactly, do you disconnect when you are all practically sitting on top of each other? Because the physical space keeps us in close physical proximity at all times, I think we tend to be very close-knit in general. Added to this the fact that you still share a bedroom with us and we spend all our waking time together or with you individually and I’d say that we are a family that tries to maximize both our quality and quantity time together.

The impending move is bittersweet. We’ll be leaving the very first apartment that welcomed us home as a family of three. I am usually not all that sentimentally attached to places, but Daddy is and I think he will be very sad about leaving behind the physical reminder of our earliest months together.  I’ll be momentarily sad, but the prospect of moving into an apartment that better meets our needs overwhelms my sense of nostalgia. Our new place is on the first floor, not the third, and there is easy access to the outdoors and to green space. The floor plan is designed to be a little more family-friendly and the kitchen is actually a kitchen and not a closet with a stove placed within. The parking is – and this is novel for us – right outside our door. We’re on a bike trail and we’re close to the library and to a nature preserve. We have a little patio. And a dishwasher. And a washer and dryer. All the little things that will make life that much easier and give us a little more time together to relax and have fun.

Still, I am not unlike Daddy in that I will be rather reflective as we make this next move. The overcrowded bedroom in THIS apartment is the first place I set you down when you got home. This hallway was where my water broke. These were the floors that I paced anxiously in those first few weeks after your arrival. When you took your first steps, they were on those floors, too. Your first bath, your first smile, your first laugh, your first word. All of these things took place in the small confines of this space we’ve called home for the past few years. It’s time to move on, but with the recognition that this apartment was the cocoon that nurtured our metamorphosis into the parents that we are today.  This is another reason that I love apartments. So many stories play out within the walls of that rented space and so many lives pass through that it weaves together a rich tapestry of experience and becomes the keeper of many tales. I can only hope that the next family will be so blessed.

Love,

Mama

We’re home…

August 17, 2009 at 10:44 am | In On the Road | 1 Comment
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I’m exhausted. Give me a day to recover before the multitude of pics come splashing forward.

Homeward Bound.

August 13, 2009 at 10:43 pm | In On the Road | 1 Comment
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We finished the first leg of our journey home today. We covered about 400 miles and have about 600 more to go. I am ready to be home and thinking that we may just power through and complete the drive all day tomorrow. We’ll see.

Today, we took a detour to Bonaventure Cemetery on our way back north through Savannah. It is a beautiful old place and I think I took some nice pictures. I’ll know when I get back. I don’t even have the energy to download them.

Also, Ben had a spectacular meltdown in a Cracker Barrel. At one point he screamed so ear-piercingly loud, every head in the establishment whipped our way wearing a look of terror/concern. Not at all embarrassing. Nope, not at all.

And what does it say about Ben that his favorite meal this entire trip was the beans and rice he ate today (purchased from a gas station Taco Bell in Georgia, no less)? He could not have been more delighted with his three dollar meal. And what does it say about me that the glee with which he ate (and the lack of toddler sass) made this MY favorite meal? It seriously gave SeaJay’s a run for its money.

I should be in bed because apparently we have an early start tomorrow, but I drank an insane amount of iced tea and I am practically climbing the walls. This morning, I made sure to take a quick walk along the beach before we left and I was delighted to spot all these tiny little crabs scurrying along the steps leading down to the sand. A gal could get used to a place like that.

Day Lost All Track of Time: Late Evening Edition

August 12, 2009 at 9:52 pm | In On the Road | Leave a Comment
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Phew.

When was the last time I even sat in front of a computer? I think it was a few days ago at the very least. Tomorrow, we start to make our trek back to reality and so it seemed necessary to force myself to step away from the pecan pralines and do a recap of our past few days in Georgia.

After spending the day in Charleston, we drove south to Savannah to spend a few days sweating to death in our own clothes. I was hoodwinked by the Carolinas because I foolishly believed that South Carolina represented the Deep South hot. But South Carolina is a kitten in the face of the lion that is Georgia summer heat. We got to Savannah late at night – around 9pm – and it was warm and muggy, but doable. I breathed a momentary sigh of relief until I realized that it was in the high 80s at 9pm at night. Then I shuddered a bit.

The next morning I awoke and hoped for the best. Without fail, I always woke about two hours before Adam and Ben and I always woke in time for the continental breakfast. Now, I don’t know if this is something that one can find in hotels across the US, but in the south at least, the hotels all have waffle makers and prepared batter so that one can have yummy Belgian waffles for breakfast. I’ve eaten more waffles in the past two weeks than I have in the past two years. So, from the cool confines of the breakfast room, the day didn’t look so bad. However, when you have a son and a husband that don’t rouse until about 11:00am and then have to dance around for an hour before they are ready to leave, your day starts at noon. Let me rephrase. My day of sightseeing begins UNDER THE SEARING HEAT OF A HIGH NOON SUN. This means that, without exception, if I wanted to take advantage of the sights, sounds and smells of my vacation, I had to traipse around during the hottest part of the day and silently (sometimes not so silently) curse the sun. Now, believe it or not, in Tennessee and the Carolinas, this was not so bad an arrangement. It was definitely warm but I was still willing to be out and about snapping pictures and enjoying the experience. And then Georgia happened.

Savannah is a lovely place. It really is beautiful. I love, love, loved the squares and the little shops and all the amazingly ornate wrought iron and, oh, the homes. My plan was to take a zillion pictures and loll about in the squares and meander through a few shops. For the first hour or so, this is exactly what we did, but by hour two, I was so hot and irritable that I was ready to head back to the hotel. We did manage to snap some good shots and we found a really nice smoothie place that Ben seemed to really enjoy, but for me, the day was considerably less pleasurable because of the heat. The nice thing about Savannah is that there are many little shops to duck into to escape the heat. The bad thing is that we are on a very tight budget and you can’t spend a penny in them. And then there is the issue of the little sir, as he can be prone to running and flailing. But overall, he is a very good little browser/shopper and we managed to spend about 5 hours in Savannah before I could take no more and had to call it a day.

The next day, we returned to Savannah for lunch and with the intent of taking more pictures and doing more sightseeing. However, it was even more hot the second day and my patience for the heat was wearing thin. We ate lunch at a cute diner that was converted into a restaurant from an old rail car, so that was fun for Benjamin. I ordered a southern vegetable plate sampler, thinking there would be something on there that he would enjoy, but he ended up eating a huge bowl of shredded cheddar cheese that the server was gracious enough to bring us when it was clear that he was going to eat nothing else. After lunch, we decided that the best way to see Savannah would be via the guided tour trolley and that’s exactly what we did. It was really nice – it was about 90 minutes long and we saw everything Savannah had to offer from the comfort of the shaded, breezy trolley. We were worried that Benjamin was going to fuss and we would have to get off the trolley early, but he fell asleep about 10 minutes into the trip and we were able to enjoy the rest of the tour while he rested.

After the trolley ride, we debated walking around a bit, but as it was about 46 million degrees out, we opted to leave early and drive to our next – and final – location. Again, my spotty logic led me to believe that the next spot would be cooler because we were going to be on the ocean. In actuality, I was just going to sweat to death with a beautiful view of the water. We are wrapping up our stay here at Jekyll Island. The place really is gorgeous. Beautiful beaches and scenery and in cooler weather, this place would be divine. The whole island is ringed by bike trails and there are tons of parks and nature preserves. It’s a small island and fairly quiet and desolate. Much of the island is undeveloped so the beaches are nesting grounds for loggerhead turtles and the dolphins come really close to the shore. It’s amazing. This morning we all headed over to the beach and I could not believe my eyes when dolphin after dolphin swam by. I confess that I got a little teary-eyed because it was just such a stunning sight. We also ate (twice) at this really awesome place called SeaJay’s Restaurant. It was right on the water and it was so laid-back and enjoyable that I think I’ll actually miss the place.

The hotel we are in now is typical beachfront dumpy, but that is not without its charm and I’ve enjoyed it here. There is a very friendly orange tabby cat that lives with the hotel manager and he is often found wandering the hotel meowing and looking for attention. It’s sweet and lends an air of homeyness to the place. Had the weather been cooler, this would have likely been one of my favorite parts of our vacation, but as it was, I could not get over the heat. We were able to escape the temperatures somewhat by visiting the Georgia Sea Turtle Center and by hanging out in the hotel room during the hottest parts of the day, but much of the natural beauty of the island was lost on us this trip. I’d really like to come back some January when the temperature would be more forgiving because I think I would love it then.

Tomorrow, we are waking up early to begin our journey back home. Since this is likely the last big vacation we are all going to be taking for quite a while, we’ve been trying to savor it as much as possible. I think, overall, we’ve all had a great time, despite the disruptions to Ben’s schedule and the inevitable neck and back pain that accompanies any road trip. We’ll be coming back to a lot of changes in Illinois. I’ll start school soon – as will Adam. We just learned that he was accepted into his program. I’ll go back to work. We’ll be moving to a new apartment in a new town at the end of September. It’s been really nice to have all this time together to connect before we all get so busy again.

Day Something: Mid-Morning Edition

August 11, 2009 at 8:52 am | In On the Road | Leave a Comment
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I’ll update more later, but after a day in which all of us were in testy spirits, we all seem to be in a pretty good mood today. It was 7 million degrees both of the days we were in Savannah and I was THISCLOSE to packing it up and going home.

I have to get Ben’s breakfast ready, so the Savannah details will have to wait. As will the details of where we are at now. Except that I will say we’re on Jekyll Island and it seems lovely thus far.

Sidenote on being a pale-skinned Northerner in the South

August 9, 2009 at 8:16 am | In On the Road | Leave a Comment
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Yesterday, as we were walking through Charleston, we saw what looked to be a lovely wedding congregation emerging in celebration from a church. I was wearing a cotton dress and sandals, but I was sweating so profusely and my face was so red that I actually looked terrifyingly savage. Adam has photographic evidence. My hair is all over the place and I am the color of a lobster. It’s becoming. But these women coming from the church? Some of them were wearing crepe and crinoline and then there was the bride and her maids in the heavy dresses, fer chrissakes. And all of them looked flawless. What. The. Hell?! My outfit had to have been way less temperature-rising than their collective mass of dresses.

Why did I look like such holy hell? Do you get used to the heat over time in such a way that you look great in it no matter what, or would someone like me always turn bright red and look dreadful?

Day 7: Morning Edition

August 9, 2009 at 8:02 am | In On the Road | Leave a Comment
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Since we are ones to never keep our word, we did, in fact, make a stop on Charleston. I highly recommend it. For me, it was reminiscent of a cleaner, less sleazy-seeming French Quarter in New Orleans. Now, I am not insulting sleaze. Far from it. I think that gives New Orleans a charm of it’s own. But for some reason if just felt as though Charleston should have a pleasant, gracious and decidedly non-seedy air about it.

One of the amazing things about the South are all these quirky or interesting eateries that really draw the eye in and practically beg me to sit down for a nosh. As of yet, we’ve tended to be looking for food when all of us are hungry and tired, two essential ingredients for a toddler meltdown. So we have steered clear of these types of establishments – tempting as they are – and stuck with the louder, more family-friendly, touristy type places. For example, yesterday we stopped at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company for dinner. It was the perfect spot for Ben. Lots of eye candy, very loud, something always going on and a general sense of chaos that masked the random toy truck being flung across the room. I know, I know.  As we were driving into Charleston, I saw a Red Lobster and I remarked, “Who would chose Red Lobster when you have non-chain, totally awesome seafood places at your disposal.” Oh, apparently people like us.  And then, almost as though divined from above, the answer to a question that has been plaguing me for years finally popped into my head. Years back, I participated in an online forum full of admittedly opinionated people. One couple, on their visit to New York City, opted for the Olive Garden instead of going to some local, non-chain restaurant. The acrimony this caused on this forum. The question posed, quite viciously and rudely to this couple, was how they could justify their decision knowing that there were millions of amazing places a few miles away. Internet flame wars ensued, nonsense erupted and feelings were hurt. I didn’t engage in that hot mess of a conversation at all, but I did wonder the same thing. Then, yesterday, as I was wandering around looking at all the options in Charleston, my eyes settled on Bubba Gump and without conversation, I stopped there. Now, let me preface this by saying that in New Orleans, a few years back, I had a similar thought. Why this Bubba Gump when you can get the real thing? Turns out, sometimes it’s not the food that’s important at all, but whatever else that place offers you at the moment. Perhaps, like the couple visiting NYC, you just want something familiar because the city is so big and the choices so overwhelming that on that day, it’s more comfortable to go with what you know. Perhaps, like us, you know that the flash and the silliness will hide the tempestuous outbursts from a 19-month-old little boy. Perhaps you loved the Forrest Gump movie and think it would be a novel treat. Perhaps it was the closest thing and you’re tired of walking already, ok? Regardless of the reason, there is something genuine and real behind the decisions most of us make.

I have some rather hipster friends in my arsenal of acquaintances. People that would, under no conditions,  set foot in a  place like where we ate lunch yesterday. I’ll mention that we went to such a place and I, too, may have to listen to some exasperated cries of “You did what?” A few years ago, I may have had the same internal response. But, as seems to be evidenced every time I wake to a new day in the morning, motherhood is changing me. I went to Bubba’s shrimp shack not because it was my first choice in an ideal world, but because it was best for my son. my fellow patrons and our own sanity. It had nothing to do with the food. As I get more and more used to this motherhood gig, I see how much more I am aware of the world now and our place in it. I used to be more unintentionally rude in public. Louder voice, swearing, carrying-on. The stuff of your 20s. Now, however, I am acutely aware of my space, Ben’s space and our intrusion into other people’s space. My concern about Ben’s loudness and dramatics has influenced my own behavior in public and this, combined with maturity and aging, has made me a more polite, less rambunctious public presence. Yes, toddlers will be toddlers. Screaming, shouting and fussing in public are par for the course. But I also think we owe it to others, to the best of our ability, to create a public space that is enjoyable for all. I think this is one of the things I like about the South. People are just pleasant. No one seems to go out of their way to be nasty or rude or snarky. It’s a refreshing change, and one that is really keeping me on my toes. I could get used to a place like this. I like pleasant. I like pleasantries. I like a smile and a wave hello. It’s nice to be able to say something to someone and not have them gawk at you, wondering why you even opened your mouth in the first place. That wide-eyed, furrowed-brow look you get when you strike up a conversation with a stranger back home. Back home, I don’t randomly go up to people and talk to them. But here? Well, here, I’ve been doing it all the time and it’s been really nice.

Oh man. Anywaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays…

Today we are checking out Savannah. Again, this assumes that Ben and Adam will be up soon. It’s going on 10am EST and there is no sign of that.

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