Brightwood Lights

So. . . this story is a few weeks old now, but it is funny nonetheless.

In July, a good friend emailed a group of moms and asked if anyone wanted to go peach picking in early August.  Now, I am ashamed to admit that, despite being from PEACHTREE CITY in the PEACH STATE, I had never been peach picking before.  And since I do love peaches, I figured a Friday spent picking peaches in the fresh non-city air would be fun.  So I replied that I’d be up for it.

Come Peach-picking Eve, however, I realized that the next day was going to be a *mite* crazy.  I was scheduled for a 20-mile marathon training run, and we were supposed to meet in rural Virginia at the orchard at 10:30 AM.  Little did I realize that the orchard was an HOUR AND A HALF drive from our house, which meant loading up the kids to head out by 8:45 AM.  But by then, I decided it was too late to back out on my friend, despite Caleb’s urging me to reconsider.

The next morning, I overslept and did not end up with time for my long run.  That meant another day of hydrating and mentally preparing to run 20 miles.  In the meantime, I got the kids ready and headed out the door remarkably punctually, since I had an extra few hours in my morning.  We made a quick stop by the gas station to fill up, and somehow I managed to spray gas all over myself in the process.  After a brief debate about whether or not to run home to wash off, I opted to wipe down with baby wipes and continue on my way.

The peach picking itself went fairly well.  Minor “episodes” included Andreas eating part of a leaf and a handful of dirt, but otherwise, the morning in the countryside was great.  The drive was indeed a bit much, but I was feeling pretty good about the whole outing. . .

Peach Orchard
   

. . . until I got home.  And realized that I had about 50 peaches, 15 tomatoes, and one HUGE zucchini to deal with.  I didn’t have any “canning” supplies, so I spent HOURS over the next few days looking up recipes for peaches, zucchini, and tomotoes.  Caleb gamely helped out in the kitchen, though I doubt having “bake night” for 3 or 4 days in a row was his idea of a good time.  We mashed and froze peaches for Andreas; ate LOTS of peaches ourselves; made zucchini bread, peach pie, and peach-berry cobbler (twice); and STILL had peaches to use up.  Some went bad, but we made a valiant attempt to not let any go to waste.  We suffered from a terrible fruit fly infestation (that I think we have just about under countrol now), and there were even a few ants appearing in our dining room.  I felt incredibly domestic. . . and I think Caleb just felt incredibly like he did not want to deal with ANY more peaches.  His estimate is that between driving, picking, looking up recipes, baking, cooking, freezing, mashing, etc., we probably spent a good 20 man hours on those peaches.

    
Moral of the story: If your gut AND your husband tell you it’s not such a great use of your time, you should probably listen.

The unseasonably cool summer has given way to the steamy, sultry weather typical to DC at this time of year.  Another season of interns and congress and everyone else escaping the city, while those of us left behind muck through the stagnant, oppressive heat and look forward to the return of crisp fall air.

As a child, I eagerly anticipated the return of the school year.  I loved finding out who my teachers and classmates would be, planning what I would wear for the first day of school, shopping for new binders and notebooks, and wondering if my friends would even recognize me with my new perm / braces / haircut / tan /etc.  (Shockingly, they always did.)

And, truth be told, I have finally- at the age of 28- admitted to myself that I am a nerd.  So I confess that I enjoyed the routine of the school day, the busyness of extracurricular activities, and even the challenge of learning Spanish / geometry / world history / grammar etc.

This year, I look forward to the end of summer because Simona will restart her “school year” at Little Learners Playschool.  Though I have absolutely loved having week after week with absolutely no structure to it, I am ready for a return to a bit of a “routine.”  Don’t get me wront- I have loved the relaxed mornings at home while Andreas learns to crawl, Simona dances to “Muffin Man,” and I do chores around the house.  Time at the playground has also not been scarce, and we have done our share of museums/ (water) spray parks/ zoo outings/ recreation center visits/ playdates with friends.  And we won’t be THAT busy with school two mornings a week.

Still, it’s time.  I need the routine of “having” to be somewhere on a regular basis, and Simona will benefit from seeing her little friends on a set schedule.  We will all be forced to be a bit more efficient about getting ourselves out the door some mornings and about using our time wisely, which encourages discipline and order.  (In addition to embracing my nerdiness, I have also embraced my German half and believe with all my heart that “Ordnung” is a good thing!)

I’m hoping that my rediscovery of discipline will include greater consistency in my priorities and better time management.  And, for you, my few but faithful readers, I hope this will translate to more frequent updates of the “photos” page.

____________________________

Other thoughts:  I started to write a really heavy post about some issues a few friends of mine are going through, but I didn’t have the emotional energy to do the subjects justice.  Let’s just say that a few friends are struggling with issues relating to childbearing and could really use prayers and positive thoughts.  These people and their challenges weigh heavily on my heart, and I am humbled by the lack of control we have over the situations life throws our way.  Savor every silver lining, but cry with every friend who’s hurting.  Painful, but real.

Simona, like all three year olds, is quite imaginative these days. She makes up stories, songs, and all sorts of fake friends, words, games, etc.  It’s usually pretty funny, and overall, I enjoy listening to whatever might come out of her mouth next.

About two months ago or so, Simona started stopping to pet her “monkeys” that live in the trees between our house and the playground.  She always invites me to pet “Bilowa” or “Minkowna” or whatever name she makes up on the spot, and if I don’t pet the precise leaf she indicates, she’ll correct me and show me exactly where “Bilowa” is.

Cute, until you realize that there are about 30 trees between our house and the playground.  And that by the time we are on the way home, we are all hot, fussy, tired, hungry, and ready for lunch & naps.  Stopping to pet monkeys gets quite tedious, so I’ve had to limit the number of monkeys we can pet on the way home.  Recently, a fellow mom walked home with us for lunch.  Along the way, she and her daughter got to help pet monkeys, so eventually I told Simona that we would only be stopping for one more monkey.  Since I told Simona that in German, I translated it into English for my friend’s benefit, so she’d know she wouldn’t have many more to pet.

She just laughed and said (in her wonderful British accent), “Brilliant, isn’t it?  Did you ever envision being a mum would involve implementing the ‘One Monkey Rule’?”

————————–

Update:  Some June pictures are up.  Pictures from Simona’s birthday & our trip to Iowa will be up soon, and July pictures will follow hopefully soon thereafter.

I haven’t updated the photos in a while, so here’s a quick written preview of what will be coming your way, hopefully soon.

We have been quite “local” this summer, with only two long-weekend trips so far.  (We’re planning our “big” vacation for September, when we’ll be going to Germany again.)
Our June travel adventure was to Iowa, where we spent a whirlwind weekend visiting family.  It had been almost a year since we had been back in the Hawkeye State, so there was plenty of catching up to do.  In addition to visiting with aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, we also celebrated Simona’s third birthday in Iowa!  She was VERY excited to turn three at Grandma & Grandpa’s, and Grandma even made her a special “orange and white and pink” birthday cake.  (Those are Simona’s favorite colors– especially orange and white.)  Though I’m sure you can purchase an orange and white and pink cake somewhere,  I’m also pretty sure that it would be a rather disgusting dessert for anyone over the age of 6. However, Grandma outdid herself, and the cake was attractive and delicious.

And, as I’m in the habit of making the travel portion of my trip just as exciting as the destination itself, I decided that simply flying as a family from Iowa to Baltimore via Chicago would be downright boring.  So, in Chicago, I opted to “volunteer” Simona’s and my seats in exchange for two free roundtrip tickets on a future flight.  (Caleb had to get back to DC for work on Monday morning, so he traveled home as scheduled.)  Simona, Andreas, and I also got a free night in a hotel and two free meal vouchers. . . plus an upgrade to first class for the flight home!  The fellow passengers in first class were gracious, despite Andreas’s crying from being tired and Simona’s removing her shirt mid-flight because she spilled water on it.

The local excitement for June included Andreas learning to sit up, Simona’s joint birthday party with a friend from her playschool, and my sister Linda’s move to Maryland (with her horse Nate and dog Bo) to live near her fiance just outside of Baltimore.  The DC Metro crash that you may have heard about also happened outside of our stop, which was jolting.  Our hearts go out to those who lost loved ones, as we were filled with the sense that it easily could have been one of us on that train.  Caleb’s commute has been affected, but regular, complete red line service resumed as of today.
Other than the trip to Maine, we have kept a low profile this month.  Andreas cut his first two teeth while we were in Maine, and he is getting closer and closer to crawling.  He also can pull himself up from a sitting to standing position.  Simona is growing into such a little girl, complete with an occasional burst of attitude worthy of a teenage girl.  She is starting to recognize letters, and she loves asking us to spell everything she sees.  She also adores hearing stories and is constantly asking us to tell her about when we were little.
July has been mercifully mild this year, with very little of the steamy, humid weather that typifies DC summers.  The clear, crystal blue skies and temperatures between 65-85 degrees have been perfect for spending hours at the playground.  We’re sure our luck won’t last, though, and wonder whether we’ll be “paying for” this with an unbearably hot, sticky August.  Until then, though, we’ll be here enjoying the summer.  Stop by if you’re passing through the District anytime soon!

Let me just start by saying that we had a great time in Maine.  We ate delicious lobster, stayed at a beautiful inn on the coast, attended my cousin’s wedding, and overall enjoyed the time reconnecting with extended family.  Simona LOVED swimming and playing with her second cousins.

We may have had a little too good a time, though.  The plan was to leave Maine to drive to NYC fairly early on Sunday.  I didn’t realize, however, that there was a family brunch planned for Sunday morning.  I decided we should go, since the whole point of traveling to Maine was to spend time with family.  I figured we could spend just a little while and then still get on the road at a reasonable time.  That was my first wrong assumption.

Once Simona and her cousins got into the pool, though, there was almost no getting her out again.  It took us until early afternoon to finish swimming, get dressed, eat some lunch, and head for NY.  We left Maine at 2, and I figured that we may hit a bit of weekend traffic heading south out of Maine but that we’d be out of that by the time we passed Boston.  Second wrong assumption.

So the GPS said we’d arrive in Brooklyn, NY by 7:21 PM.  I figured stops, etc. would put us at our destination at 8:15.  Third wrong assumption. For the sake of not boring you with the details, suffice it to say that at 9:30, I called Caleb from the car in a traffic jam in NYC to tell him that I was living my own personal hell: Andreas was sitting a few feet from me, screaming his head off because he was hungry, but I was unable to help.  (I did finally cave in and pull over on the side of the highway in Brooklyn to nurse him. . . I figured traffic wasn’t moving anyway, so there was no reason to force A to suffer more.)  With all of that, I FINALLY made it to my friend’s apartment at about 10:20. . . only 8 hours, 20 minutes for a 5 hour, 20 minute drive!!

But, it got even better.  The next morning, I decided to wait until 10:30 AM to leave the city, figuring we’d hit the least possible traffic that way.  We pulled out at 10:40 for a drive that should take about 4.5 hours.  I was shooting for 6.

Of course, we hit traffic the entire way out of the city and then had the privilege of paying an ELEVEN DOLLAR toll to cross the Verrazano Bridge.  I shook the dust from my sandals, vowed that I would never again drive anywhere near New York City, and, for the first time in my life, was THRILLED to be in New Jersey.

We merged onto the Turnpike around 11:45, and at about 11:45:02 AM, the people in the car next to me waved at me, pointed at my front tire, and mouthed, “You have a flat tire!”

SO, we fortunately made it about 4 more miles to the next service plaza, pulled off, and spent an hour and a half using the bathroom, eating our lunch, getting gas, and changing a tire.  Many, many thanks to Jim and Tom from Charlottesville, VA, who helped with the tire change.  Driving on a donut doomed us to having to travel at about 55-60 mph the rest of the way.  Fortunately, the kids fell asleep, and I hoped I could at last make a long, strong push towards home.

Traffic was, for once, mercifully light, and we had about an hour of smooth sailing.  I was getting a bit tired and began debating pulling over to buy something to drink, but figured that I should push through while the kids slept.  I passed a service plaza with a sign telling me that the next one was 25 miles away and figured I could easily make it that far.

About 2 miles past the sign, however, Simona woke with a start and announced that she had to use the bathroom.  Urgently.  I thought about pulling over on the side of the highway, but the traffic was busy enough that it seemed unsafe.  (I also didn’t want to leave A alone in a parked car on the side of the road while I took S to pee in the grass. . .)  So, I began trying to distract & encourage her to make it 20 more miles.  I sang and cheered while she whined and cried, both of us increasing in our intensity and desperation.  Finally, though, she exclaimed that she had wet her pants.  Honestly, it was actually a relief for both of us, since she finally stopped her pained cry.

BUT, it added another lengthy stop, with a change of clothes and some clean up.  Andreas got a diaper change and wasn’t hungry.  Since I had left my wallet in the car, I decided to skip the drink and hit the road again.

We made it as far as Delaware- only about 20 minutes away- before A decided he needed to eat IMMEDIATELY.  And, of course, S had to use the bathroom again.  So, we took YET ANOTHER 45 minute stop.  I vowed that it would be our final stop, and for the only time on the trip, I was right.  We pulled up to our house at 6:00 PM- a mere 7 hours, 20 minutes after leaving NYC.

Lessons learned:  Too many to list.  Memories made:  Tons.  Desire to repeat the experience:  Absolutely none.

(PS- hoping to get some new pictures up soon.)