So shortly after Christmas the husband and I found out that we were expecting a small child. I call it Spawn. My mother hates the name. She can deal. Ultimately, I know this story will have a happy ending and that I will love Spawn dearly and all that but thus far (17 weeks) I hate being pregnant. I hate the word pregnant. I hate that everyone says "Do you feel pregnant yet?" "Did you buy pregnant pants?" etc etc etc. Don't even get me started on the nicknames. If anyone uses the word PREGO around me I cringe inside my head. My name is Danielle. It is not "Mamma or hot mama or mama W"
No one wants to know how I really feel. Trust me. My poor husband gets to hear it and he's great. He's the most supportive understanding and wonderful human being in the world and I'm a craptastic wife because this is supposed to be something we both are excited about and love going through together. Well, I don't. I pretend. I try. It's not working. Most days I just feel grotesque. I can't imagine that that's going to get better. I hate being fat on a normal basis and this is just worse.
I hate having constant aches and pains. I hate not being able to sleep properly. I hate that my regular clothes dont fit and the maternity pants fall down every 10 steps. I hate that our already stretched budget is getting stretched even thinner as we try to buy the basics. I hate that everyone is sooooo excited for us and expects me to be all happy and chipper all the time. I loathe with a burning passion hotter than the flames of hell that people feel like they NEED to tell me that what comes next is worse. "Your dog got mud on your curtains, wait til you have a kid." "You're hot today? Wait til you're 9 months pregnant. You'll want to die." "Ohhhh you can't plan on making it to your due date. You could probably go into labor any time in August while you're at work." You know what? I don't want to hear your opinion. It's nervewracking enough to KNOW in your head that all those things could and probably will happen. You don't need to take some schadenfreude pleasure out of telling me how awful labor is how much you tore, how your body will never be the same and OH MY PERSONAL FAVORITE that the hormones cause all kinds of other health issues to happen like "hey that one lady that we both know that got cancer right after she had her 2nd kid." Oh and let's not forget the "what if it's autistic or any other THING that could happen you'll still love it." What happened to boundaries? What happened to not saying anything if you dont have anything nice to say?
One of the worst parts is that no one listens. They ask what you want and then do the exact opposite. They dont respect your boundaries and they don't care. They're all too excited for you to listen to what you want. It's good intentioned but it makes me feel like crap.
I am a borderline hypochondriac. I knew this was going to be challenging. I knew that with as sensitive as I am to every ache, pain and twinge in my body and with my past history of anxiety that this was not going to be a great experience. I know that I make mountains out of molehills, that I see zebras where there are horses and that I'm overall a nut job about my body being 'my body.' I'm also well aware to all the armchair counselors out there that depression is a real hazard of being pregnant. Yes, I'm also aware that there are pills you can take for that. I also know that I'm not depressed. I've been depressed and on anti anxiety meds before. This is different. This is just having a feeling that is not popular with the general public. The world doesnt want you to be unhappy when you're experiencing 'one of the great miracles in life'. The world wants you to wake up perky and full of sunshine and glitter laughing about how pleasantly plump you are and how you have that GLOW which is really just oil from your hormonal teen angsty skin.
Will I be a terrible mother? No. Will I love the child with all my heart when it's here? Yes. Would 99.99 percent of the world judge me from this post..Probably. It's okay. I'll be fine. August 29th anyway.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Why can't I have the bubblegum flavor anymore?
Someone please tell me in what world it is okay that I am 33 years old and have an ear infection. 33. I am fairly sure that ear infections are something you're supposed to grow out of like acne and saying "meow" after every sentence. What no one else did that when they were a small child? Oops.
To add insult to injury the prescribed antibiotic for a 33 year old with an ear infection is not the shockingly pink bubblegum liquid. It's a pill that looks like it is more designed for a large farm animal. Or an elephant. They taste bad too. As soon as I put it in my mouth I can taste the weird bitterness and I swear my throat closes up so that the gigantic oversized nugget scrapes my tonsils on it's way down. I think they do it on purpose. If the pill is gigantic, it's possible that I could choke on it, thus further improving the cash flow of the local urgent care that has to resussictate me.
No. I'm not cranky about this at all. No it's not ridiculously annoying to have your ear fluttering like a crazed hummingbird. It's just freaking fine.
When I was little and I had an earache Mom would plunk me on couch with tylenol and a book and I would get to rest while she checked on me and brought me soup or whatever she was cooking. I'd nap and watch television and read. 33 year old ear achey me has a living room full of Christmas ornaments, partially hung stockings and a bare and lopsided tree that needs decorating. She has 3 classes worth of crap to grade and a salary that doesnt make her feel like doing the work, a dirty kitchen, a husband who is still congested, a dog that keeps making noises like a teapot because he's bored and can't move around since the living room is filled with breakables and christmas presents still to buy.
I also get to go to my mom's birthday party today which is the only small brightside in an otherwise unfun day. Maybe while I'm there she'll plunk me down on the couch, give me a book to read and bring me slices of birthday cake. Maybe she'll pat me on the head and tell me I'm a good daughter and that I am doing a good job being an adult. Maybe she'll tell me that your 30s are a weird place where you love where you are and are excited for all the things that you know will come in the future and that you just have to be patient. That you still are young enough to long for the days when life was easy because you had so few responsibilities but that everything is going to be okay and this time of year is just rough at work and is busy at home and it's easy to get overwhelmed. Maybe she'll tell me that she even felt that way when she was my age, wasn't feeling well and had a bad week.
More likely...we'll just eat cake.
To add insult to injury the prescribed antibiotic for a 33 year old with an ear infection is not the shockingly pink bubblegum liquid. It's a pill that looks like it is more designed for a large farm animal. Or an elephant. They taste bad too. As soon as I put it in my mouth I can taste the weird bitterness and I swear my throat closes up so that the gigantic oversized nugget scrapes my tonsils on it's way down. I think they do it on purpose. If the pill is gigantic, it's possible that I could choke on it, thus further improving the cash flow of the local urgent care that has to resussictate me.
No. I'm not cranky about this at all. No it's not ridiculously annoying to have your ear fluttering like a crazed hummingbird. It's just freaking fine.
When I was little and I had an earache Mom would plunk me on couch with tylenol and a book and I would get to rest while she checked on me and brought me soup or whatever she was cooking. I'd nap and watch television and read. 33 year old ear achey me has a living room full of Christmas ornaments, partially hung stockings and a bare and lopsided tree that needs decorating. She has 3 classes worth of crap to grade and a salary that doesnt make her feel like doing the work, a dirty kitchen, a husband who is still congested, a dog that keeps making noises like a teapot because he's bored and can't move around since the living room is filled with breakables and christmas presents still to buy.
I also get to go to my mom's birthday party today which is the only small brightside in an otherwise unfun day. Maybe while I'm there she'll plunk me down on the couch, give me a book to read and bring me slices of birthday cake. Maybe she'll pat me on the head and tell me I'm a good daughter and that I am doing a good job being an adult. Maybe she'll tell me that your 30s are a weird place where you love where you are and are excited for all the things that you know will come in the future and that you just have to be patient. That you still are young enough to long for the days when life was easy because you had so few responsibilities but that everything is going to be okay and this time of year is just rough at work and is busy at home and it's easy to get overwhelmed. Maybe she'll tell me that she even felt that way when she was my age, wasn't feeling well and had a bad week.
More likely...we'll just eat cake.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Thanksgiving
My poor husband has had a horrible ridiculously awful cold/flu like thing all week with super high fevers. I'm thankful that I've been able to take care of him and give him some comfort while he's been so miserable. Growing up with his dad he seems to have missed that 'woman's touch' that most moms provide when you're sick. He can't remember anyone putting a cool wash cloth on his forehead during a fever, or rubbing his back to help him fall asleep...I'm thankful that I can be that person in his life now and I'm thankful that he appears to be on the mend FINALLY. PHEW! It's hard work taking care of an invalid! LOL!
Now...crossing my fingers that I don't get it too.
Because of his germs we're missing his family's Thanksgiving party today and tomorrow but on Saturday I'm hosting my family and my Canadian friend* and my sister's boyfriend ** for dinner and the football game.
What football game? THE game. The Ohio State v. *ichigan game!!! It's not going to be pretty, but it's still THE rivalry game and I love football as a whole. Speaking of football....(this is a disjointed post, sorry, deal with it)... It saddens me that so many awful things have happened this year in sports. There's no one to blame really and then at the same time, everyone is to blame. Have you ever been to a big football game whether it's high school or college and looked around at the crowd and thought to yourself "wow.. for those kids on the field...this has to be like magic." I mean, for one night, for one afternoon, whole cities turn out to watch them play a game. To cheer for them, to cry for them. I can't imagine being on the field and looking up and realizing that. Put yourself in the Shoe...109,000 people all cheering for a bunch of 20 year olds. It makes me sad that for some of those kids that feeling of awe is not enough. Of course, the fans and the media make it not enough. We're the ones that elevate the players and coaches to god like status and expect them to be 'normal' and 'humble' and not to take free stuff when they can get it. We expect coaches to be infallible and to always know right from wrong and more importantly to be able to know what the PUBLIC will think is right and what the PUBLIC will think is wrong because that's the court they'll ultimately be tried in. I wont even get into the Penn State scandal, but it's the same thing with Paterno. There's no margin for error because the media will crucify you no matter what you do because you are the Face. I am increasingly glad that I chose not to use my journalism degree.
I digress.
Thanksgiving dinner-- we're having beef tenderloin filet steaks, a creamed corn bacon thing, lima beans, mashed potatoes, chocolate cake with caramel frosting and gingerbread. If things turn out lovely I'll share the recipes that I used.
I hope you all have wonderful thanksgiving holidays wherever you may be.
* My Canadian friend, I met her at the barn when we both moved our horses to Columbus around the same time. She's my riding buddy and has turned into a really great friend. I'm very thankful to get to know her :-)
** This is the first real holiday that the sister's boyfriend has attended. He's also coming to Christmas!!! I like this 'adult relationship' that she's in. It's a little more than just the 'college relationship.' I'm proud of her for how she's grown up and learned what's important to her and what she wants in a partner. The kid's got good values and I like that :-)
Now...crossing my fingers that I don't get it too.
Because of his germs we're missing his family's Thanksgiving party today and tomorrow but on Saturday I'm hosting my family and my Canadian friend* and my sister's boyfriend ** for dinner and the football game.
What football game? THE game. The Ohio State v. *ichigan game!!! It's not going to be pretty, but it's still THE rivalry game and I love football as a whole. Speaking of football....(this is a disjointed post, sorry, deal with it)... It saddens me that so many awful things have happened this year in sports. There's no one to blame really and then at the same time, everyone is to blame. Have you ever been to a big football game whether it's high school or college and looked around at the crowd and thought to yourself "wow.. for those kids on the field...this has to be like magic." I mean, for one night, for one afternoon, whole cities turn out to watch them play a game. To cheer for them, to cry for them. I can't imagine being on the field and looking up and realizing that. Put yourself in the Shoe...109,000 people all cheering for a bunch of 20 year olds. It makes me sad that for some of those kids that feeling of awe is not enough. Of course, the fans and the media make it not enough. We're the ones that elevate the players and coaches to god like status and expect them to be 'normal' and 'humble' and not to take free stuff when they can get it. We expect coaches to be infallible and to always know right from wrong and more importantly to be able to know what the PUBLIC will think is right and what the PUBLIC will think is wrong because that's the court they'll ultimately be tried in. I wont even get into the Penn State scandal, but it's the same thing with Paterno. There's no margin for error because the media will crucify you no matter what you do because you are the Face. I am increasingly glad that I chose not to use my journalism degree.
I digress.
Thanksgiving dinner-- we're having beef tenderloin filet steaks, a creamed corn bacon thing, lima beans, mashed potatoes, chocolate cake with caramel frosting and gingerbread. If things turn out lovely I'll share the recipes that I used.
I hope you all have wonderful thanksgiving holidays wherever you may be.
* My Canadian friend, I met her at the barn when we both moved our horses to Columbus around the same time. She's my riding buddy and has turned into a really great friend. I'm very thankful to get to know her :-)
** This is the first real holiday that the sister's boyfriend has attended. He's also coming to Christmas!!! I like this 'adult relationship' that she's in. It's a little more than just the 'college relationship.' I'm proud of her for how she's grown up and learned what's important to her and what she wants in a partner. The kid's got good values and I like that :-)
Monday, November 21, 2011
words to live by
Are you on http://www.pinterest.com/? I recently joined the bandwagon.
After a really horribly terribly awful no good very bad day I logged onto pinterest to browse some mindless do it yourself crafts (homemade snow globes anyone?) It was like God was speaking to me from pinterest..
" Don't try to win over the haters...you are not the jerk whisperer."
It's SO TRUE! I am NOT the jerk whisperer. I cannot magically make everyone not be an ass hat! Why do I let their ass hattery suck me down into that sneaky spiral of self loathing and depression?
I may have to buy this poster now...not sure it's work appropriate though. :-)
After a really horribly terribly awful no good very bad day I logged onto pinterest to browse some mindless do it yourself crafts (homemade snow globes anyone?) It was like God was speaking to me from pinterest..
" Don't try to win over the haters...you are not the jerk whisperer."
It's SO TRUE! I am NOT the jerk whisperer. I cannot magically make everyone not be an ass hat! Why do I let their ass hattery suck me down into that sneaky spiral of self loathing and depression?
I may have to buy this poster now...not sure it's work appropriate though. :-)
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Photo Card
Family Snowfall Holiday
Create photo new year's cards at Shutterfly.com.
View the entire collection of cards.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Happy Birthday To You...
Today is my husband's 31st birthday! I've written posts about how awesome he is on my other blog that I have disbanded and I don't want to write something redundant so instead I'll write about...well...just his birthday.
My husband is a man of fairly simple tastes. He doesn't really like to get dressed up and go out to fancy dinners that we can sometimes afford. He is a stay at home and watch a movie, grill out or go to a long time favorite place kinda guy. We both had to work yesterday but thanks to a fairly awesome boss on my end and his flexible schedule we were able to leave work at 4:00 and got home early so that we could drive down to southeast Ohio and go to the Athens High School Football State Play Off game. Bret started loosely following Athens HS when we lived down there when I worked for OU. They were not ever that great but they were fun to watch since their stadium is in the heart of the hills and any footballl is better than no football at all. Last year their field was decimated by a tornado. That's a whole other story in it's own right but suffice it to say that they rose up and had a perfect season this year. This is the ONLY time in Athens history that a team has gone 10-0. So they made it to the play offs and Bret wanted to watch the game for his birthday. We drove down and went to Dairy Queen for dinner-- usually he wants to go to Rax (does anyone remember Uncle Alligator?) but that would have taken too long so we just stopped for ice cream and then went to the game. I am the kiss of death for H.S. football. If I root for a team, they will without fail , lose. Athens was not strong enough to beat my curse. We had fun though and came home to go to bed and sleep in this morning.
After sleeping in, we went to the gym and then to brunch at the Olde Village Diner. Cute. Delicous. Cheap. Then it was home to watch the Ohio State game which was sloppy and messy but a win and then out to the yard to winterize the plants and prepare for the end of fall. Intermixed throughout all of this was me trying to cook a turkey breast. Not the kind that is just a slab of meat that you would bake or grill...no no...the actual bone in half of a Thanksgiving Turkey kind of turkey breast. While some of you may be old hands at this endeavor. It was a first for me but I wanted to do it for Bret since his favorite meal is really Thanksgiving Dinner and when we eat Thanksgiving with my family we never actually have the traditional meal. 6 hours later (cookbooks lie....325 will NOT be high enough to cook your turkey at a rate of 25 minutes per pound) dinner was FINALLY complete. I think he's pretty happy and full... we had turkey, mashed potatos and stovetop with gravy and then I found these awesome boxed cupcakes called FundaMiddles. YUM is all I can say. Buy them. Now. Now we're collapsed on the couch watching football. All in all not too different than our normal weekend...but with just a little birthday flair thrown in.
I have heard through the blog-vine that a successful blogger is supposed to be more entertaining than just recounting their day to day existence so I'll throw this little nugget in here...
I love being a wife. I love to demonstrate my feelings about this by doing things for my husband that make him happy. I like to be with him. It's not hard. It's pretty easy given that we share similar interests and hobbies...but beyond that... I strongly feel that it is not too much effort on my part to go out of my way to make sure that he can see that I care.
What? Okay.. so, my husband, though he's a stick and can eat a whole pizza in one sitting and still lose weight, loves food. He's kind of a picky eater...but what he loves, he loves alot. So one of the ways that I try really hard to make sure he knows how much I care is to make his lunches for the week. Every Saturday or Sunday depending on how much time we have, I pack all of his lunches for the week. I used to just buy some lunch meat and make him some sandwiches with it...but then he was getting burnt out on the sliced turkey and I read an article about nitrates and got grossed out by the fact that he's eaten the same lunch with all that sodium and preservative for ohhh 5 years. *shudder* our children are going to have 3 eyes.
So one day, I decided to roast him some chicken breasts and make sliced chicken breast sandwiches. It didn't take as long as I thought it would. The house smelled amazing. We had leftovers for the week for dinner and he came home and gave me a huge hug about how awesome his lunch was. Well. I am a sucker for external praise...so I did it again. Same result. Since then, I've made roast pork in the crockpot, beef, more chicken... it honestly takes me the same amount of time as it did to make the lunch meat sandwiches but now we also have leftovers for at least one night of the week for dinner. It just takes a little more planning. Some of the girls I know at work just kind of rolled their eyes at me like I was trying to be Martha Stewart or something...but I'm not. I don't think I can explain how easy it is and how absolutely 100% rewarding it is to know that while he is definitely enjoying his lunches, he also gets that exta warmth of knowing that I put in just a smidge more effort just for him because I'm his wife and I care. I think that when he was growing up he was largely independent...his dad's great but he raised Bret and his sister on his own for the most part and I think that there has always been a little of 'the woman's touch' that Bret was missing from his life. His stepmom filled in some...but she had her own daughters too. I like to let Bret know that...sometimes... my job as his wife is just to take care of him. I don't think it's unreasonable and I don't feel like I'm relinquishing my 'successful independent woman' card by doing that.
Did I mention that he does the laundry every week for me? :-) Cooking is the least I can do...
My husband is a man of fairly simple tastes. He doesn't really like to get dressed up and go out to fancy dinners that we can sometimes afford. He is a stay at home and watch a movie, grill out or go to a long time favorite place kinda guy. We both had to work yesterday but thanks to a fairly awesome boss on my end and his flexible schedule we were able to leave work at 4:00 and got home early so that we could drive down to southeast Ohio and go to the Athens High School Football State Play Off game. Bret started loosely following Athens HS when we lived down there when I worked for OU. They were not ever that great but they were fun to watch since their stadium is in the heart of the hills and any footballl is better than no football at all. Last year their field was decimated by a tornado. That's a whole other story in it's own right but suffice it to say that they rose up and had a perfect season this year. This is the ONLY time in Athens history that a team has gone 10-0. So they made it to the play offs and Bret wanted to watch the game for his birthday. We drove down and went to Dairy Queen for dinner-- usually he wants to go to Rax (does anyone remember Uncle Alligator?) but that would have taken too long so we just stopped for ice cream and then went to the game. I am the kiss of death for H.S. football. If I root for a team, they will without fail , lose. Athens was not strong enough to beat my curse. We had fun though and came home to go to bed and sleep in this morning.
After sleeping in, we went to the gym and then to brunch at the Olde Village Diner. Cute. Delicous. Cheap. Then it was home to watch the Ohio State game which was sloppy and messy but a win and then out to the yard to winterize the plants and prepare for the end of fall. Intermixed throughout all of this was me trying to cook a turkey breast. Not the kind that is just a slab of meat that you would bake or grill...no no...the actual bone in half of a Thanksgiving Turkey kind of turkey breast. While some of you may be old hands at this endeavor. It was a first for me but I wanted to do it for Bret since his favorite meal is really Thanksgiving Dinner and when we eat Thanksgiving with my family we never actually have the traditional meal. 6 hours later (cookbooks lie....325 will NOT be high enough to cook your turkey at a rate of 25 minutes per pound) dinner was FINALLY complete. I think he's pretty happy and full... we had turkey, mashed potatos and stovetop with gravy and then I found these awesome boxed cupcakes called FundaMiddles. YUM is all I can say. Buy them. Now. Now we're collapsed on the couch watching football. All in all not too different than our normal weekend...but with just a little birthday flair thrown in.
I have heard through the blog-vine that a successful blogger is supposed to be more entertaining than just recounting their day to day existence so I'll throw this little nugget in here...
I love being a wife. I love to demonstrate my feelings about this by doing things for my husband that make him happy. I like to be with him. It's not hard. It's pretty easy given that we share similar interests and hobbies...but beyond that... I strongly feel that it is not too much effort on my part to go out of my way to make sure that he can see that I care.
What? Okay.. so, my husband, though he's a stick and can eat a whole pizza in one sitting and still lose weight, loves food. He's kind of a picky eater...but what he loves, he loves alot. So one of the ways that I try really hard to make sure he knows how much I care is to make his lunches for the week. Every Saturday or Sunday depending on how much time we have, I pack all of his lunches for the week. I used to just buy some lunch meat and make him some sandwiches with it...but then he was getting burnt out on the sliced turkey and I read an article about nitrates and got grossed out by the fact that he's eaten the same lunch with all that sodium and preservative for ohhh 5 years. *shudder* our children are going to have 3 eyes.
So one day, I decided to roast him some chicken breasts and make sliced chicken breast sandwiches. It didn't take as long as I thought it would. The house smelled amazing. We had leftovers for the week for dinner and he came home and gave me a huge hug about how awesome his lunch was. Well. I am a sucker for external praise...so I did it again. Same result. Since then, I've made roast pork in the crockpot, beef, more chicken... it honestly takes me the same amount of time as it did to make the lunch meat sandwiches but now we also have leftovers for at least one night of the week for dinner. It just takes a little more planning. Some of the girls I know at work just kind of rolled their eyes at me like I was trying to be Martha Stewart or something...but I'm not. I don't think I can explain how easy it is and how absolutely 100% rewarding it is to know that while he is definitely enjoying his lunches, he also gets that exta warmth of knowing that I put in just a smidge more effort just for him because I'm his wife and I care. I think that when he was growing up he was largely independent...his dad's great but he raised Bret and his sister on his own for the most part and I think that there has always been a little of 'the woman's touch' that Bret was missing from his life. His stepmom filled in some...but she had her own daughters too. I like to let Bret know that...sometimes... my job as his wife is just to take care of him. I don't think it's unreasonable and I don't feel like I'm relinquishing my 'successful independent woman' card by doing that.
Did I mention that he does the laundry every week for me? :-) Cooking is the least I can do...
Monday, October 31, 2011
The British
My horse loving cousin V came to visit the last 10 days. As you may have gathered from the heading, she's not from these here parts. My dad was born and raised in England and emigrated here with his first wife in his late 20s early 30s. He subsequently divorced her and married my mom (there's really no scandal here despite the fact that my mom was a rural farm girl and he was the dashing muttonchopped debonair older man from abroad.) They produced two daughters 10 years apart. Meanwhile his younger brother stayed in England and married a Geordie and they also produced 2 daughters, who are only 2 years apart.
My cousins and I were always aware of eachother growing up and we had random visits throughout our childhoods. They came here once when I was very young while our grandmother was living here and we visited them a bunch of times, less so after my sister was born. It was always family vacation though...until last year when my husband and I visited England on our own. We stayed with the youngest of my cousins as she is the closest in age to us and is single and lives in a beautiful home by herself. We had a fabulous time with her and invited her to stay with us whenever she wanted. Before we knew it she had booked a ticket for October! It's been really fun to get to know her as an adult and create memories that don't include me biting her finger which is her one outstanding memory from the last time she traveled here when she was 9 and I was 5. Perhaps she'd been eating salt and vinegar crisps and I was hungry?
Anyway, carniverousness and cannibalism aside, we had another great visit. We visited my sister in Kentucky, introduced her to the Cheesecake Factory, went to Hocking Hills to hike and even squeezed in a trip to the races, a boat ride and a horse ride. I think these visits in our 30s will pave the way for a closer family in our later years. My parents and hers have always been the glue that bound us together across the pond and I think it's really neat that we're creating our own glue so that when our parents are gone (hopefully no time soon) we will still be able to visit and be comfortable with eachother.
I *heart* family.
My cousins and I were always aware of eachother growing up and we had random visits throughout our childhoods. They came here once when I was very young while our grandmother was living here and we visited them a bunch of times, less so after my sister was born. It was always family vacation though...until last year when my husband and I visited England on our own. We stayed with the youngest of my cousins as she is the closest in age to us and is single and lives in a beautiful home by herself. We had a fabulous time with her and invited her to stay with us whenever she wanted. Before we knew it she had booked a ticket for October! It's been really fun to get to know her as an adult and create memories that don't include me biting her finger which is her one outstanding memory from the last time she traveled here when she was 9 and I was 5. Perhaps she'd been eating salt and vinegar crisps and I was hungry?
Anyway, carniverousness and cannibalism aside, we had another great visit. We visited my sister in Kentucky, introduced her to the Cheesecake Factory, went to Hocking Hills to hike and even squeezed in a trip to the races, a boat ride and a horse ride. I think these visits in our 30s will pave the way for a closer family in our later years. My parents and hers have always been the glue that bound us together across the pond and I think it's really neat that we're creating our own glue so that when our parents are gone (hopefully no time soon) we will still be able to visit and be comfortable with eachother.
I *heart* family.
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