Lesson Learned

Dan and I were both out of the house last week for work and had, max, a few hours to discuss our upcoming camping trip to Wildcat Mountain State Park. Dan etched a veteran's memorial near the park and booked the site last year. Over the phone and by email, we discussed gear, food and drink, but never really talked about our expectations for the weekend. 

After a long four hour drive, we unloaded the gear, set up camp and soon discovered that camping with a one-year-old isn't like camping with a 3 month old. Sure, there were a few sweet moments, like when Ingrid and I watched four caterpillars shuffle around the picnic table. But, as we avoided the windy, chilly weather in our tent and Ingrid became increasingly tired and fussy, it became clear that the weekend would be tolerable at best. 

After four hours at the campsite, we decided to pack it up and head on home, tail between our legs. It was a bummer - we were defeated. 

Maybe if the weather was better, it would have been fine. We both felt like idiots - but lesson learned, camping with a one-year-old isn't fun for anyone.  

As if you need evidence, here I am during a high-point, Ingrid had just fallen asleep and I was "happily" reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Can't you just feel the joy in the air?  

And here's Ingrid after she woke up from her too-short nap. She couldn't stop crawling all over me. She was sort-of happy, sort-of hungry and completely insane. 

On the ride home, we decided to numb our pain with doughnuts and coffee. After missing the exit for Dunkin' Donuts and nearly missing one of the last Kwik Trip exits, Dan sighed "It's just that kind of day." And thankfully, we took it in stride. No one was laughing, but no one was placing blame or bitching (ok, we bitched for about three minutes). 

On Saturday, I woke up to Dan questioning, "Did yesterday even happen?" 

It did and I was over talking about it before the subject even cam up. So I ran, grabbed a kiddie pool at Target and packed a bag for a little picnic and walk around Doctor's Park. 

At least we got some use out of this backpack hiker. 

Ingrid was in love. She stood on the beach and yelled at the waves. She couldn't believe what she was seeing and didn't mind that the water was a little on the cold side. 

However ideal our camping situation could have been, it didn't make sense for Ingrid. Any lingering doubts were washed away as she cautiously wobbled around the beach, mouth open in complete joy. 

She sat here for about two minutes (equal to 30 minutes in adult minutes) gazing out at the waves.

We arrived home to a pseudo-warm kiddie pool and a cooler of mixers. Camping smamping, we had swimsuits, access to ice, iPod speakers and a happy Ingrid. 

I completely understand that camping with a one-year-old sounds insane and dumb. A year ago, it made sense, to us both, to camp with Ingrid. We love the outdoors and wanted to share this experience. Dan wanted to start a family tradition and visit the memorial he created. A year ago, we had no idea what life with a one-year old would look like, feel like or be like. She's in a constant state of transition and exploration. Camping made sense when she was little and unaware. Now, she's aware enough to enjoy crawling caterpillars but not aware enough to understand that we're sleeping together in a tent. Or even to comprehend what a tent is. 

I'm thankful we had two days to turn the weekend around and the time to create new traditions that work with our family, right now. I know there will be plenty of weekends to camp, (and years when Ingrid will think camping is the lamest thing ever) and there will be plenty of visits to the beach - but there's only one first visit to the beach. And that visit was met with screams of delight and wonder, and it was pretty great.  

Awkward and Awesome

Summer is almost here - let's roll up our sleeves and dig in. 

While at a White Sox's game yesterday I was this close to having a hot dog, but resisted the temptation because it didn't feel right. We were in a fancy restaurant in the stadium, and honestly, who can eat a hot dog on a white plate? With a tablecloth? Weird. Hot dogs are hot dogs and brats are reserved for tailgates. 

I've also been rationing the cucumber vodka using the bizarre logic of: "Is it hot enough for cucumber vodka? I don't want to get sick of this come August..." 

I'm treating brats and liquor like fine China. 

Maybe it was the short winter. Maybe it's the realization that this summer is not like last summer (i.e. new infant, no job, nursing every 2-4 hours). Or maybe it's because Ingrid is growing at a rapid pace. But everything feels slightly askew and I know we're entering uncharted territory with a toddler. Which feels terribly awkward in the moment and amazingly awesome in memory. 

Awkward: 

• Finding mashed up peas on your shirt late in the workday. Then silently recalling that it was actually avocado from lunch. Then blame it on your daughter to a group of people who have since moved on from said "mashed up peas."  
• A massage in a wood-paneled room (thanks Groupon)! 
• Getting busted for playing Words with Friends.
• Being awkwardly terrible at Words with Friends.  
• Tripping not once, not twice, but three times in rapid succession while running by a group of people. 
• Not so much awkward as it was depressing - burning a batch of caramel corn. 

Awesome: 

• Husband being done with school (for now). As much as I loved the discussions around essay revisions and sign language quizzes, I'm happy to have my calm, cool and collected husband back. 
• Bright lipstick and top knot hairdos. 
• Hide and seek with Ingrid. Just don't go too far or someone (Ingrid) gets panicky. 
• This knock-off Panara Thai Chicken Salad Recipe. 
• Ingrid's joyful state while splashing around the kiddie pool. Post pool-time smile, also awesome: 

And one of the most awesome moments of all - Ingrid taking her first few steps.

Not to belabor the point, but it does feel a bit awkward to think this small feat is so awesome. But with true sincerity, seeing her take her first(ish) wobbly (or some might say, awkward) steps was such a proud, emotional and (dare I say, awesome) moment.

(that sentence was "Ugh, I'm like, crying." Classic Mom.)

Mother's Day

A happy Mother's Day to all marvelous ladies - all mothers, grandmas, daughters, aunts, whoever. 

Last week, Dan had a last minute job come in and made sense for him to work so,
Ingrid and I enjoyed the day - just the two of us. 

We started our day with a Skype session with my mom (isn't Skype great?). 

We chatted over coffee and Ingrid showed off her new skill - stacking the rings on this classic toy. 

Then, while starting breakfast, I found: 

And in the cleverly-named remote drawer, I cried over this: 

Ingrid's sweet little hand-prints with weird little buds and branches shooting out from the fingertips. 

I love it. 

A perfect addition to the Mother's Day gift from my friend. 

And myself...

A new summer quilt (it was needed!). Ok, it was justified. 

After Ingrid's morning nap, we went on a walk. 

And played in the park for a bit. 

We got some coffee and some groceries between naps and porch-hanging.

It was one of the most uneventful Mother's Days I've ever had 

and I hope we have dozens more like today. 

Maybe this shouldn't be such a profound realization for me - but she's honestly really fun to hang out with. I know, that sounds terrible. But I wasn't anticipating truly enjoying spending this much time with someone who can't walk or talk. I thought these enjoyable moments would come much later. Although she was clueless that today was intended to celebrate mothers, she pretty awesome today. 

She was a little more giggly, snuggly (for Ingrid that means resting her head against you) and was just a little more go-with-the-flow. It was a bonus that she took two two-hour naps and did not insist on reading Toes, Ears and Noes 20 times (please, no more, I can't take it). 

At the grocery store, she signed "more" as I dropped a few bananas in the cart. Good point, she has been inhaling at least one a day. So I put in three more. Then she gave a little sideways grin/shoulder shrug and signed "more" again. I ignored this not-so-subtle request and moved along and thought - you're funny, you're nuts and I love you. 

On My Playlist: Somebody That I Used To Know

I'll admit it - I'm totally out of touch with new music. 

With a 7 minute commute and an open cubical arrangement at work -
I don't have the ability to blare music for hours upon hours. 

So, when I saw this video on SNL, I didn't get. 

It was a true "mom" moment. 

"Who are these guys? Why is this funny?" 

Oh brother. 

But seriously, I'm not scouring the racks for mom jeans or anything -
but I get how moms get a little...dated. I don't wear heels on the days I drop Ingrid off at daycare because it's easier to take them while juggling Ingrid, her lunch, and a weird daily report slip. 

I'm looking forward to catching a train to Chicago tomorrow.
To have some good food, fancy drinks and perhaps, do some shopping on Michigan Ave this weekend. 

The last purchase I made was a jean jacket.

It's time people, it's time.  

Tonight.

Tonight is a quiet night. Dan, Ingrid and Harper left this morning to work (Dan) and to visit the grandparents (Ingrid and Harper).

It felt strange to come home to an empty house. And it feels even stranger to sit in a house that doesn't need anything. The high chair is clean and the all of the toys are corralled into various baskets. I even kept the kitchen light on "just because I could."

Earlier tonight, my best friend and I went out for wine and dinner (wine was a must and dinner was a "nice to have"). Again, it was a strange and weird feeling to not worry about the home-front status. It's a wonderfully simple thing - to be present with the people around you. Wonderfully simple and really nice.

A nice feeling that I'm thankful is temporary.

Because after watching this video I started to think about Ingrid's little voice. And how one day, she'll have a bizarre kid-accent (I refer to this as a Brooklyn accent).

I'll be making the most of these baby-free days (or toddler-free? Too soon!) - but I'll be ready to see those little red-headed faces when they come home. And, equally happy to see Harper's wiggly butt.


This video rides the fence of charming-cute and annoying-cute but let's just agree that the little owl is probably the best character.