My mom is still my best friend and shopping partner. She'll honestly tell me how my butt looks in pair of jeans, but not unless I ask first. The way it should be. We went out for lunch and she helped me pick out bunch of new winter clothes my wardrobe desperately needed. Every mother/daughter relationship has some issues (and we certainly have ours), but I hope to be as close with E one day. Which leads me to this aside….
I’m really starting to think she may be our one and only. The plan was to try for #2 once M upgraded to a new job, allowing me to stop working full-time and move closer to family. At the current rate things are moving, I’m going to be through menopause by the time that happens. I don't know how single moms keep it together. I’m struggling with one kid, a very easy-going one at that. I can’t imagine the hot mess I’d be with two (prime example below). I don’t know, ask me next Tuesday and I might have a different answer for you.
My back is sore from carrying E through the airport in the Bjorn. In addition to her dangling off the front of me, I had on a backpack filled with our stuff and her infant seat hooked over my arm. There’s a nice purple bruise where it kept banging into my hip. There were a few kind souls who offered to help me carry something, but I wasn’t looking for anyone’s help. We have our system (at least until she gets bigger), and I pride myself on being self-sufficient and quick through the airport. I did appreciate their kindness however, as so few people have any respect for their fellow travelers these days.
On the flight up, I was assigned a seat 10 rows away from E’s. The other NONREV assigned to the seat next to her gave me and the flight attendant attitude when we asked to trade. God forbid he should have to sit in a MIDDLE seat, WHICH HE DIDN’T PAY FOR ANYWAY. He was also sporting a lovely velour track suit. Some people could really use a refresher on the nonrev golden rule: Be discreet, gracious, and professional.
What a d-bag.
I found it rather amusing that I was asked to put her “shoes” in the bin with mine at the Atlanta airport. I feel so much safer knowing they screened an infant’s pair of soft-soled Robeez.