Friday, January 02, 2009


I took (dragged) Andy to the Smithsonian Natural History Museum today. His favorite part? Was it the big whale? The dinosaurs (which were the reason we went)? The volcanoes? Heck, the cafeteria? "The stairs. I liked the stairs." Just like our trip to Dallas, he proclaimed his favorite part was riding on the airplane. Figures.

The trip was interesting. I took Meg to her sitter's today (she had offered) and it was going to be an Andy/Mommy day. As I dropped her off, my sitter's two kids who are 7 and 13 were there so I offered to take them. They were thrilled to get out of the house so the came with us. It was nice. The 7-year-old is a boy and he and Andy played nicely together and the girl and I talked music and iPods. It was clearly a sign of what's to come and was pretty cool. And after two solid weeks with an off and on sick baby, it was nice to get out to do something with people who could tell me what they wanted.

Afterwards, I dropped the big kids off and Meg was sleeping so Andy and I spent the next few hours together running errands. It was very nice to get some one on one time with him and my shoulders appreciated not lugging a baby around, but I think we both missed Meg.

I go back to work on Monday after a two-week holiday. I'm looking forward to getting a little more routine back, talking to adults and thinking about something other than which kid puked last, but it has been nice not to really think about work for a while.


  1. Love the stairs thing. A friends mom asked George what he got for Christmas. He answered "chapstick". OK, George, but what was your favorite thing (and I even listed some of the things)? Chapstick. (his lips get dry and he was using some of my stuff in a pot, so Santa got him real chapstick) Why do I bother? Why do any of us bother?

  2. I dreamt last night that I had offered to take care of my friends Julie and Arthur's baby while they went out on a date. I took Sylvie home and put her (still in her car seat thingy) in the garage. I then promptly forgot about her until the next day, when another friend came by and asked me how Sylvie was doing.

    Shit! Shit! I said to myself, all the while wearing a confident smile. "Why don't you go out to the garage and check on her?" Sylvie was asleep, but the inside of her onesy was coated from head to toe. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what it was coated WITH.

    Cousin Shannon keeps saying I'd make a great Dad, but I wonder sometimes... Hey, do you want me to babysit when I come to DC? :)