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terminology

All this talk about the brave new world of diblings has me thinking about terminology and how we talk about this to each other, to people who have never heard of our brand of alternative families, and to the kids themselves.

While I was trying to get pregnant, I made it my mission to educate people about Single Moms by Choice. While E was a baby, I felt like I skated through- most if not all people around me know my situation. “By choice” felt clunky and unnecessary, or smug. Also not the right qualifier–I had a baby by choice but I’m not single by choice (most of us would have preferred a partner). I introduced myself as just a single mom. Later I might say, “I chose to have him on my own.”

Now that he’s here, and will increasingly overhear me and eventually will know what I’m talking about, I’m feeling best about introducing myself as a solo mom. In a sea of imperfect options, solo mom feels most comfy. We have a lot in common with single (i.e. divorced) moms but their issues are different- mostly around dealing with the ex. They also quite often have a co-parent, or at least an adult who takes care of the kids occasionally and, if they’re lucky, helps shoulder the financial burden. “Single” refers to marital status only- there are two parents.

“Solo” to me means that you’re really doing this alone, or without a partner. Flying solo implies (doesn’t it?) a choice in the matter. It’s thrilling and risky and in the end you get all the blame and all the glory. It fits. Luckily, that’s how I named this blog 3.5 years ago- how did I know???

The other new terminology I love I got from my friend C who got it from a solo mom she works with who has an older kid. It’s the answer to the question “Where/who is E’s dad?” The answer is not the tragic and shocking, “E doesn’t have a dad.” Which is what I told my four-year-old niece when she asked. (I went on to explain about a nice man who helped me have a baby, which was totally over her head and unnecessary. We don’t always get it right the first time!)

The right answer is, “OUR FAMILY doesn’t have a dad.” We are in this together. Neither of us have the guy who would be his dad- we didn’t have him and lose him. There are all types of families. Ours has a Mommy, two aunts, an uncle, a Mimi, a Chacha, two cousins, and as many friends and honorary aunts and uncles as we want to throw in. We have lots of love. I love this answer. Me and E go solo, together.

The dibling extravaganza has begun! We’ve been trading photos and info and it’s really exciting. There’s definitely resemblance among the kids and plans to get together- one kid lives just across the Golden Gate Bridge! How fun is that.

Thanks for accompanying me home, kiddos. Have a great weekend. xo

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diblings

The system is working: this morning my phone alarm went off at 8:50am with the reminder “SIERRA”- which is what I call my car. I moved her from her Thursday spot to a Tuesday spot and reset my alarm even though I know I’ll drive over the weekend- I need to err on the side of being anal.

It’s sprinkling and chilly this morning. I’ve found myself moody this week- content on Monday, foggy and insecure in Tuesday. What will today bring? Today my motto is “Be kind to everyone and especially yourself.”

Last week, I joined the Donor Sibling Registry. It’s a site where families with donor kids can connect with their kids’ donor siblings, or “diblings,” meaning that the kids share half their genetics. Whereas I’m happy to remain disconnected from McPiercy himself for all kinds of reasons, I welcome the opportunity to meet E’s diblings and their families- it just seems like opening up more possibilities for love and community! And, if we don’t click for whatever reason, that’s ok- we just move on, there’s no obligation.

So I registered last week on the DSR (and paid the $75 membership fee- it’s a nonprofit run by a family with donor kids who wanted to connect) and saw that there were several other families listed with McPiercy’s donor number listed. They all had nice posts about being open to being contacted. I emailed them all.

I was excited but it also felt low stakes. Nothing for a few days and then yesterday my first hit! R, mom of 2 boys (5and 3) in LA emailed me a friendly message and let me know that (YAY) there’s a secret Facebook page for four families with 3 girls and 2 boys (now 3 and 3 including E!)! I’d heard from SMC friends about the FB page phenomenon and I’m so happy there’s one for us!

Now I’m just standing by waiting to be connected to the group. This will be fun.

A few photos of adventures with E. Have a beautiful day! xo

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meal planning and parking tickets

I can’t believe how well it’s going with meal planning, something I literally never did before becoming a mom.

Once every 7-10 days, I sit down with my computer after E is sleeping and place my Amazon Fresh order. I start with staples by quickly clicking through past purchases. Then I find 3 recipes to make for the week. Either I find them buried somewhere in my gmail or I search for something specific on sites like www.yummytoddlerfood.com or www.momtastic.com or regular recipe sites or my sister D’s resources for meal planning. I order the ingredients I need for those 3 meals. I copy/paste the recipe into an email that I send to myself, starring it so it stays at the top of my inbox until I make it.

I do some cooking at night, some things are simple that I can make after work, some go in the crockpot in the morning (today’s meal is cooking as we speak: Slow-Cooker Chicken Chili)

We’ve been eating well, spending less money, having leftover night with downstairs neighbor L, and E’s lunches look like this:

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I take pictures because I’m proud and I can’t believe I made them. I bought the bento box for myself as a practical lunch container to run with but quickly found that this can’t contain enough food to keep me full, so it became E’s.

So here’s the down side and I believe this to be directly correlated. I keep getting parking tickets. In my neighborhood, there is typically street cleaning once a week. If you’re parked there during the (2-hour) street cleaning window, you are fined $68. This is happening to me way too often. I keep thinking “that’s the last one! Now I’ll really pay attention!” And then I do something like move my car a day early to be safe, and put it in a spot that is cleaned once every 2 weeks but since I didn’t check I didn’t realize that it would be that day. As if just by moving it, I’m safe, so my vigilance turns off. I’ll make a strong mental note that my car is good for a week and then less of a mental note when I make an unexpected trip and repark in a new spot. This morning I sucked in my breath as I heard the street cleaner come down my side of the street- E was already at the window watching it glide down the block and swerve around my one lone car.

This is even with my downstairs neighbor looking out for me. Either she has a sixth sense about it or looks out her window a lot. Last night she called and texted but I was asleep at 8:45, in my running clothes, for the night.

I think meal planning has taken over my ability to track my car. I’ve tried setting an alarm. I’ve tried having it be the most important thing to remember each day. I am probably shelling out 2-3 tickets a month. This has got to stop!

Do I set one time aside each day to think about my car? Each morning when I leave for work I confirm its safety or move it? Put a note on my hand? Skywriting? Would this go better if the fine was $1000?

Well, on the bright side, we are eating well. I’ll just have to forge new pathways in my brain. Or whatever brilliant ideas you come up with.
xo

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all clear

The doctor called to say that the biopsy confirmed his preliminary diagnosis of a branchial cleft cyst! It’s not just good news but overjoying news with a hilarious and comical spin that makes people smile! This ominous anomaly became a vestige of our amphibious past, a nod to evolution, and a clue about my own mystical mermaidhood. I made the doctor laugh going on like this. He did not contradict me when I paraphrased him with, “I have a gill!”

I’ll be scheduling surgery sometime before the end of the year. And now I’ll do my life insurance. Grateful to my gill for helping me get that stuff set up. Thank you for your well wishes along the way.

In other news, yesterday I read one of my favorite articles ever on single moms by choice, about SMCs in Denmark. They are called solomor and the article takes a refreshingly positive view on families like ours. Read it here!

Lots of love to you on this gorgeous Wednesday. xoxoxo

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child care

I’ve been so lucky to have the greatest nanny ever for almost a year now. She’s warm, professional, unflappable, and 100% reliable. She speaks only Spanish to E (and me, which has really improved my Spanish) and she loves E and he loves her. And she picks him up in the morning to go to the other family- priceless.

The other family has been mostly great- a ten-minute walk through a beautiful neighborhood. They have a newly-remodeled house, lots of toys, even outdoor space, and they are close to Golden Gate Park. Their son is 6 months older and has been a great buddy for E (E’s first word was this boy’s name).

Clearly, though, these types of arrangements fluctuate with changing circumstances and pretty much all of theirs are changing, including: a new baby any day now, many classes for their older boy (including some preschool), maternity leave, and then a possible job change or simply not going back to work for her or maybe three days a week- many question marks about how this goes forward.

Child care can be so reassuringly regular or so so very stressful. Through winter colds and last-minute changes, I’ve struggled at times with my frustration with the other mom (we are so different) whereas I feel like the care is awesome. Now that everything is kind of getting thrown in the air, it’s a new kind of crazy stress- wondering if E will still get full attention while the nanny and the mom seemingly juggle three, plus chauffeuring the older boy to classes, plus I would really prefer to share 5 days a week, not the current 4.

I’ve always known that these situations are, by necessity, fluid, but once you’re in and settled and you love your nanny, contemplating a change feels impossible. Yet the situation has gotten so complicated. I crave a 5-day family and the simplicity that comes with that, yet what will I be giving up?

I went to preschool preview night last week- it was exciting! Spanish immersion programs, Montessori, close proximity, financial aid! Some start at 2, most between 2-3. I was not planning to send him next fall but now I don’t know.

My co-worker who has a boy just a little older than E has been through the ringer this year with nannies. They are on nanny #4 in as many months. A cautionary tale…

Yet perhaps if I relax and trust and have faith, the perfect scenario will present itself. Meanwhile, the nanny sends me photos like this during the day- the kids are all right. They’re having a blast, actually!

Xo

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yes

Saturday night, typing from the couch!

To pick up where I left off about my health scare- after an ultrasound and an MRI, the mass on the side of my neck appeared not to be malignant, based on the radiology reports, big relief. Going into my appointment, on Friday, I was very much looking forward to speaking with a live specialist and getting some real information about what this thing was instead of what it wasn’t.

Well, the doctor positively burst into the room and said he was excited to see me. That he’d read the reports and couldn’t wait to get the images, which he had now seen. I asked if I was some kind of special case and he said we’d just start by taking a  look.

He did an ultrasound and showed me that the mass has fluid in it (I could see that) and also pointed out that while the report said the mass was “vascularized,” it also said that it didn’t change with contrast. All of this to say, the report contradicted itself and it seems to be a cyst. Which I think made it less exciting to him but a relief to me, since cysts aren’t usually scary things.

He did a biopsy (not pleasant but not too terrible) and said that there was clear fluid coming out, which would be consistent with his diagnosis of a cyst. Also, there was no blood, leading one to believe it was not vascularized. Now here’s the crazy part:

Pending the results of the biopsy, he is predicting that this is a “congenital branchial cleft cyst.” What is that, you ask? Well, to explain this condition, we have to go back to when we were two-week-old embryos, when we were more like fish than humans. When we had gills, or at least the beginnings of gills. This is the moment that the gills “obliterate” or seal shut. In some cases, though, the seal is incomplete, and a pocket forms. A cyst is there at birth and eventually can enlarge due to an upper respiratory infection (which is what happened to me). It’s more or less harmless yet could be prone to infection.

So, my friends, this turned out to be a problem with my gill. I asked the doctor if I should blame my mom and he laughed. Two weeks is very early- I mean, maybe one extra cocktail and boom! My gill doesn’t seal.

When I got home, I started considering the possible symbolism around this. If I have this removed (likely, if that’s the diagnosis), will I then and only then become a full-fledged mammal? Will I experience some level of rebirth as a non-reptile? Will I have to re-learn how to swim?

I started googling, “branchial cleft cyst poetry” and “branchial cleft cyst spirituality,” thinking for sure there must be something along these lines. It’s just too surreal. There was nothing. I would own this literary niche.

After all my stress about this being something super serious, I find this to a be a downright friendly diagnosis and I am grateful. I don’t yet fully understand why this, why now, and maybe never will, but I’ll meditate on it. And if it turns out to be something completely different next week, you will be kept apprised..

Meanwhile, I’m back on the best case scenario track while E, with no appreciation for any of the above, has become Mr. Contrarian this week, fully exercising his use of the word No. We are working on Yes, which sounds like “Jesh,” but it doesn’t get nearly the airtime or level of passion. Diaper changes, clothes on, clothes off, stroller, car seat, close to everything is not what he wanted.  It reminds me of this video: Charlotte No No No

It’s part of the drill! Gracias a dios.

More to write, but I’ll save some for Tuesday on the bus.

xo

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agua

This seems like a Tuesday thing! Back on the bus. Thanks to the long weekend plus a professional cleaning of my apartment, I am rested, organized, and on the bus 15 minutes earlier than usual.

After a few years of no coffee, I feel myself inching back. I gave it up during the ttc process, kept on without it while pregnant, then it just seemed hazardous and time-consuming with a newborn. But I’ve found myself getting the occasional decaf latte as a treat, then once a week, then twice a week, etc. Then a regular latte. Then a regular drip coffee to save money. Now it’s like every other day.

There’s no reason not to- probably fine or even good for one’s health in moderation. I do like the feeling of being not-addicted and waking up naturally, and also feel like I save piles of money by not purchasing it. But right now I’m so looking forward to stepping off the bus and purchasing that small regular with room for cream. I think it’s $1.79. We all need our thing.

It was a fantastic hot summer weekend during which E and I were not separated for 3 days. I only felt it once the nanny picked him up this morning and I felt the peace of not being on. I needed a break and as a working mom I do now understand the Thank God It’s Monday phenomenon. I also saw a meme over the weekend that was a woman poolside with a frantic expression on her face, it said, “I was looking forward to relaxing this weekend, and then I remembered: I’m a mom!!!”

The theme of the weekend was great food, old friends, and water. M came over Friday night for pulled pork tacos (a slow cooker recipe I will have to post because it was so easy and so so delicious) and catching up after E’s bedtime. On Sat, lunch with sweet baby O and his parents. Then: pool party with the MI crew. Of course, I was too busy following E to catch up with anyone for real- he was in the pool, out, in, out, and his little silken feet slipped so easily on the poolside surface that I felt I should not let go of his hand. He is exuberant around water and even after changing back into clothes would have walked straight off the edge. He watches the older kids with ravenous curiosity. We had amazing bbq. We were both completely wiped out at 8pm and my back was tweaked (thankfully is better now).

Sunday was brunch with C and C–we walked through the Presidio at a leisurely relaxed pace. 3-day weekends do this- no need to rush. Monday I took E to the beach. I think it’s like going to church for him. At one point I let go to see what he’d do and he put both arms up and started walking straight in. Hallelujah, water!

Now he wakes up in the morning and says, Mom. Truck. Book! Doggie. Agua. And: beach.

In the early morning sunlight, I snuggle him and say- it’s going to be a great day.

Xo

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health

Back on the bus! Now I’ll just write to work 9 more times and it’ll be a habit.

Last March, when E and I were in the middle of another round of winter illness, I went to the doctor to get some medicine. She noted my swollen lymph nodes and particularly on one side. At the time, I think she said we should watch that since you don’t really want enlarged glands on one side. She prescribed antibiotics, I got better, and forgot about it.

A couple of months went by before I realized there was still a little lump there. I thought maybe the lymph node (of which I thought you only have one on each side but you actually have like 300) just hadn’t drained sufficiently. I went back to the doc and she said maybe but let’s do an ultrasound.

Around that time, I started googling, which is a bad, bad, and totally irresistible thing to do. I remember when I was going through IVF googling like mad, almost as if I could get information on the status of the actual embryo inside me if I could just get the search criteria precise enough. You just can’t not do it. The danger, of course, is that you find some scary stuff.

I did the ultrasound and found out just before leaving town for three weeks that the ultrasound was inconclusive and I would need a CT or MRI. And it was a “mass,” not a lymph node. But three weeks should make no difference so go enjoy your vacation, said my doc.

Well, I didn’t freak out, but this definitely got me thinking about putting my affairs in order, particularly a will, which of course is excruciating to think about, and so much more in terms of E’s welfare than my own. So, while in Michigan, despite power outages and lack of Internet, I managed to finish my will and have it signed and notarized. Phew.

Upon return, I did the MRI. Incidentally, that was an exercise in quelling panic, from start to finish, even though I was in an open MRI with no sides. If I ever have to do it again, I will take the anxiety meds.

I was supposed to get the results 2-3 days later, but by this past Sunday morning it had been 10 days. I also had something going on with my eye where it felt like something had been in it for 3 days, maybe a scratch on my cornea. And, to top it all off, E had gotten an insect bite of some kind just below his eye the day before and it was all swollen up. You know how sad it looks when anyone gets a swollen eye… That much worse with a baby.

Well, that was a real pileup of scary and worrisome shit. I felt super overwhelmed. I did not break down, because when you’re awaiting results, you’re spending so much energy just holding it together.

I took E to the doc and it was just a swollen mosquito bite- I got antibiotic cream to prevent infection. I got myself a latte and met up with JJ and S at the playground. In the afternoon, E slept for two hours while I made oatmeal banana muffins, kale cheesy bites, pasta, fruit salad, and Brussels sprouts. In the early evening, we took a trip to Ocean Beach where the wind and waves calmed me.

I was not spiraling. But, as a single parent, a health scare is worse. I’m both parents.

Yesterday morning, I got the MRI report- it is likely NOT NOT NOT malignant due to its “distinct margins” and my lack of enlarged glands. Biopsy, as I expected, to be sure. Breathing! Breathing! Breathing!

My eye is much better, E’s swelling went down.

Reminders to live each day, be grateful, get the papers in order. So relieved for now, and feeling like so much stuff I worry about is silly. Love to you all and fingers crossed that we all have good health in our futures.

Xoxoxo

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from the bus

Well, hi there!

It’s been a while. Like the whole summer practically. I hate starting every post with how hard it is to get time to write but that’s where each post starts. And that’s why I’m writing today from the bus. I think I’ll have to get used to finding ten minutes and here and ten minutes there.

So, no cup of tea. No humming dishwasher after cleaning up for the night. No sleeping baby. I did not clear an hour! But I’m writing.

I’m not sure exactly what held me up longer than usual this time. Maybe it’s more exhausting chasing after a toddler. Maybe I kept feeling like there was a big update that I wanted to do Right, but the window of opportunity never opened. Maybe I’m doing everything for everyone else and putting my needs last (I wouldn’t be the first!).

But it’s clear to me that it’s time to turn this around. I recently saw a TED talk by a woman named Mel (maybe I’ll link it later)- the essence of her talk was: just do it. It will never be the right time, you’ll never feel like doing it, and people who actually accomplish amazing things actually have to push through all that discomfort and simply set the alarm earlier.

So, here I am everybody! Writing from the bus. Yay. Maybe this is where I’ll write the book. Writing to work, running home. We do what we can.

It’s been an incredible summer. We were three weeks in Michigan, during which we had an epic 200-Year Storm that put the power out and no water with 13 people in the house for 5 days. It was Little House on the Prairie as we relied on neighbors with generators for drinking water, flushed toilets with river water, and E mastered the word “flashlight.” He had a total blast with his cousins, mastered pretty much everyone’s names (including Mama on my birthday), and loved loved loved the water.

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E is totally stimulated by new places, new houses, new people. He is clearly absorbing everything, creating new synaptic pathways at the rate of 2-3 million per second. You don’t want to waste those on anything pointless considering that learning can never again happen so rapidly and easily- so surrounding him with a big motley crew of people who adore him and take him around for summer activities of all kinds is the perfect education at this stage.

He calls many women “Ana” (his nanny) and many men “Chacha” (his grandpa). He’s beginning to learn about men and women caretakers and is trusting and interactive after a few hours of skeptical looks.

Back in SF, we’ve resumed our daily routine with gusto. I’m back to occasionally falling asleep at 8 without putting the dinner away. But- I’m making good dinners (and lunches and breakfasts- no one really told me the high % of time that meal prep and mental planning requires each day), we’re sleeping well, E is digging his daytime shenanigans with his buddies (always cries when it’s time to come home), and using new words all the time. Popular ones today were doggie, truck, on/off (as in the light switch), and pointing at the iPad and asking for Chacha.

We got to have a weekend getaway with my old and dear friend L in San Jose- only an hour but I hadn’t been down there with E due to simple logistics- L has 3 kids and between the two of us we could never seem to schedule. Plus I was admittedly loathe to drive an hour with the baby. So it was that much sweeter when we made it happen- a whole weekend poolside for E with the big kids plus a dinner out for me with L and C. I felt like I won the lottery for making it happen- it was relaxing (you know, in a running around after your toddler way), I got girl time at a wine bar (just blissful as this so rarely happens anymore), and we got to watch our kids play together for the first time.

We’re almost to the office and I’m pretty stoked on my new writing strategy. Opening up to new ways to achieve my dreams. If you keep trying to live the life you planned you won’t be showing up for the life that’s here. Big hugs and kisses and more SOON! Not even reading it through for typos! Mwah!

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family, gratitude, outdoors, single mom by choice, SMC

camping

Since before E was born, I imagined that he’d be an outdoorsy type; someone who felt at home in nature, sleeping under the stars, exploring in the woods, scanning for wildlife. Our travel together would be to national parks. I can’t remember if this took hold before or after I was pregnant, but it’s been my dream for him. What tiny person wouldn’t be thrilled to explore the great outdoors?

I also imagined that I’d be camping with a baby sooner than I did. It sounded easy and fun since babies don’t move and sleep wherever you put them. When it came down to it, though, it didn’t feel right to take a tiny baby out into the elements, and a trip never materialized.

I finally got it together to plan something for 4th of July weekend, with my friend J and her daughter S. We went to Samuel P. Taylor State Park, a gorgeous place less than an hour from the city with giant redwoods, a calm, meandering river, and steep hikes that take you up to expansive views of Marin County and Tomales Bay. I’ve been there many times on major day-long hikes as well as my 39th birthday.

Since it was my first time going with E, plus since J isn’t an experienced camper, I took it upon myself to plan carefully. I started a google doc days beforehand. We planned meals over text. On the day of, I packed the car to the gills with camping gear, a cooler of ready-to-eat food, and several bags of stuff.

Upon arrival, E wandered around the campsite, thrilled to explore and instantly covered in dusty dirt. It was nearly impossible to set up a tent or really do anything productive given that he was constantly toddling off and I had to redirect him away from potential poison oak, the river, and/or the few cars that drove by. J showed up and it was equally hard with two babies and two adults although at least we could take turns watching the little ones while the other accomplished something. She got so frustrated with her borrowed tent that she asked the couple across the street to help her, which they did, while I kept the kids occupied with bubbles.

At this point, I was pretty proud of how it was going. The tents were up and we had an amazing spread of food. There was no way we’d get out on a hike given how long it took us to set up camp, but we’d go in the morning. I patted myself on the back for not forgetting anything major. (I even commented to J that I was pleased to have prepared so well.)

Well, the black bean burgers would have been better with mustard, which I forgot. Then I realized we didn’t have a corkscrew for the wine, which we were able to borrow from neighbors. THEN I realized that I hadn’t packed the gas to fuel the camping stove, so breakfast of oatmeal and coffee was an impossibility.

Finally, once I was getting ready for bed, it dawned on me: I hadn’t packed anything for myself. I’m actually not exaggerating. I packed comprehensively for E–many, many layers of clothing and extra clothing to account for possible spills or extra cold or wet weather. Toys and books. Diapers and wipes. Etc. I had focused a lot on the food and all the necessary tools for eating.

For myself, I packed a bathing suit (which I didn’t need). I did not pack extra clothes of any kind. I didn’t pack contacts or bring my glasses. I didn’t pack a toothbrush or face wash or even think about a cosmetic bag. I pretty much had the clothes on my back, and that was it. I simply forgot.

It was nothing tragic and did not ruin the trip. But I have to say–hugely eye-opening. At what other time in my life would I forget to pack anything (at all) for me?? It would be impossible. Such a shocking reminder of how mom’s needs go last and sometimes are utterly and completely overlooked!

Thankfully, it was just a reminder and I was not terribly uncomfortable except for the sleeping. I figured E would just share my sleeping bag and Thermarest but he’s gotten big and can sprawl out in his sleep. I lost a lot of Zs making sure he was always on the Thermarest with some sleeping bag over him while I made do with whatever was left (not much). Good thing it wasn’t cold. The kid needs his own sleeping set-up–a second Thermarest and a second sleeping bag. Or whatever you get for someone who’s 25 pounds. We will hook this up for Round 2!

Otherwise, he slept according to his normal routine, and the moms got to roast marshmallows and make perfect s’mores, accompanied by great conversation and red wine. In the morning, he woke up and said, in his own language, “Wait, we’re still here? We’re outside? In the woods?! We’re in a tent! This is awesome!”

We did some hiking, met some kids, checked out the river and some dogs and birds. Now he’s saying “tee” (tree) and “bow” (pronounced like the kind you take after a performance = ball).

And I’ve updated my packing list to include a section for “Mom.”

xo

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