Weekends of Memory

Hope you all had a long weekend full of somber, military-style thoughts!

Just kidding. Hope you had at least one or two—if you’re American, anyway—and a happy weekend regardless of nationality. (I think that’s the most awkwardly PC thing I’ve ever written, in case you’re keeping track).


I hope you had fun. We sure did.

Although it didn’t really look promising for a bit there. I think it was about 7am on Saturday when I handed a squirming, half-asleep baby to Carl and wished him joy before bolting to the car with my pillow and blanket. Yes. You read that correctly. I totally slept in the car like a homeless woman for two hours AND IT WAS AMAZING.

Iris had been on this cool wake-every-hour plan for a few days, and it was kicking my butt. Actually, it was more like having my face kicked in. Same bloodshot eyes, same headache. She has never been a “good” sleeper (not unlike someone with whom she shares a surprising amount of DNA), but waking up 5-8 times every night seemed a bit excessive even by crazy person standards.

I was making breakfast a few hours later when my mom called and asked what we were doing for the weekend. Nothing much, I said, relating my sleep woes. Oh, I recalled. We did have a bunch of Carl’s coworkers coming over for a cookout on Monday evening.

My mother pointed out that I was insane, reiterated her invitation for us to come up to GR for a few days some time in the next few weeks so she could help out with Iris and I could catch up on sleep, and hung up before my bacon burned.

Carl and I conferred.

I took him to work, packed our bags, and by 6:30pm we were zooming across the state, Carl repeatedly talking me down from my 85mph autopilot. Iris, bless her tiny heart, slept the whole way.

It was a magical 30-some hours. We slept in, went for long walks (even Carl!) and stared out windows full of green. We made a baby-free pilgrimage to Starbucks, watched a movie, and ate meals with both hands. My dad helped out with bath time, my mom snapped photos, they both played with her and worked hard for those gummy grins. Just a nice, summery weekend with the fam. I don’t know much about parenting, but I do know that it helps to have grandparents all lined up before you embark on the whole parenting thing.

Much refreshed, we zipped back to Plymouth on Monday, just in time to throw together a few pies and get the house in order before the party. It was crazy hot in our no-air house with 90+ degree weather, but nobody died and everybody seemed to have a good time.

The weather has cooled off now, and I’m savoring a house still clean from all the tidying we did before the party. Iris had two stretches of 3 hour sleep last night. Carl hung out with her this morning while I went for a jog.

And best of all, my dad has a meeting at a hospital two miles from our house today. Which means my mom is coming to hang out with me. I have chicken defrosting for a chicken/spinach/artichoke pizza tonight.

Things are looking up.


4 thoughts on “Weekends of Memory

  1. Hooray for family! Sounds wonderful. I slept in the car once on a cold and rainy night in Northern New England while on vacation but it was WITH the baby because our motel neighbors kept banging on the wall when the baby screamed. Then I was pissed and tired. Not sleeping sucks.

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