Ode to oxymetazoline

I am suffering. From what my doctor calls pregnancy rhinitis. It's a fancy way to say I'm congested because of all the extra blood flow in my sinuses. My doctor's drug of choice is Claritin D. However, I can't take that just before bed time, when the rhinitis really gets raucous, because it keeps me awake. As if I don't have enough trouble sleeping these days.

My drug of choice is oxymetazoline and not just because of the way it rolls off the tongue. That stuff works. Unfortunately, my OTC nasal spray of choice not been studied thoroughly in pregnant women, so I made the informed decision to use it sparingly. Don't judge. The nights that I do use it result in blissful, breathable sleep. I love it so much that I wrote a poem about it two nights ago whilst drifting off. You're shocked, I know.

Oxymetazoline

You understand my plight

Oxymetazoline

Assuage me through the night

Fearless you go like a mighty spelunker

Plowing your way through my sinus bunker

Through thick and thin you infiltrate

Congestion you eviscerate 

Oxymetazoline

When can I see you again

Oxymetazoline

Rhinitis best friend

Third

My poor, sweet third child. How unloved will he feel when he grows up and realizes he got no prebirth blog recognition? I often think I'll write some things down for him to look back on one day, then I get busy or just forget before I can get to the computer. I blogged every detail of my first pregnancy. Naturally, I did less the second time around. This is my first post in ages, but at least I'll get one in before he's born. If you're reading this in the future, son, I love you!!

These are the things that keep me awake at night. That and the heartburn. I actually had the nerve to tell a friend not too long ago that being pregnant with a boy didn't seem any different to me than my first two pregnancies, except that this time I hadn't really had any of the DV. You may need to see the age old posts from my first pregnancy here or here to catch up if you're not familiar with the DV. If you don't have time, just know that DV is better known as heartburn.

No sooner had I bragged to my friend that I was DV free... of course it hit me days later. I won't mention the fact that the leg cramps haven't been a problem this time either. Otherwise, all three pregnancies have been very similar. I'm hoping that labor will come naturally this time, because I don't know if I can handle the pitocin this time around. Jack thinks I'm crazy to not want to induce labor. "It's so convenient! We pick a day, then I can schedule work around it, and we can line up someone to watch the girls and answer the phones at the office..." There are lots of reasons on Jack's list for me to take the needle. One of my favorite words is defenestrate. You should look that one up.

I realize it's "convenient" to know the exact date your child will be born. What isn't so convenient is the pain and suffering I've got to endure for convenience sake. No doubt natural labor will be quite awful, but it certainly cannot be worse than pitocin induced labor. The first go round with SB was a breeze. Annie was a different story. Who knows what will happen this time? I'm not saying I won't be begging for it in a few weeks...but hopefully this kid will be a bit more respectful and come on out on his own.

I'm 37 weeks, so we are on the final countdown. I'm sorry, son, that I don't have as much time or energy for creativity, but I promise to try very hard the next few weeks to write a few things down for you.

XOXO
Mom

On public restrooms as a pediatric diuretic

Annie is two and quite full of herself. Sarah Beth has made it her mission to potty train her sister. I wasn't quite ready to invest the time and effort involved in such an endeavor, but SB found a potty training DVD and made Annie watch it again and again.  Naturally we had to invest in a potty seat, which Annie was anxious to use again and again. She cried a little when I switched her diapers for pull ups, then cried a few days later when I traded the pull ups for big girl panties, but we seem to be on the right track now. I am a firm believer in bribery when it comes to potty training.

However, I realized pretty quickly that I had neither the time nor the patience to play the "I have to go potty" game every 3 minutes. I had to remind Annie many times that she only gets an M&M when she actually goes to the bathroom, not just for sitting on the seat. It didn't register for a while, and SB wasn't thrilled watching me hand out M&Ms to Annie and not to her. In a moment of brilliance, I solved all our problems with a simple solution. I added "potty train your sister" to SB's list of chores. Annie gets an M&M every time she uses the potty, and SB gets one for helping her get on and off the potty every time Annie gets hungry for a snack.

Now I just have to figure out how to handle the almost daily scenario where Annie comes running up to me and squeals with delight, "I tee tee in panties!! I want an M&M!" On the plus side, we don't have to work on that kid's self esteem.

Jack and I were at the office a couple of weeks ago unloading some display cases when we realized it was lunch time. Jack suggested we go to one of our favorite restaurants, and I wasn't going to argue. We had the girls with us; we normally don't take them out to eat at nicer restaurants (ie any place nicer than McDonalds) for obvious reasons. But I was hungry and the fact that I had two small children in tow didn't register in my mind until we walked in the door, and I remembered that Annie was wearing big girl panties.

We went immediately to the bathroom so that Annie could get that out of the way before we were seated. The trip was a success, we washed our hands and went to the table. Annie was distracted for a few minutes while the waitress took our drink order and handed out menus. Then she announced, "I need to go potty." This is the point where we probably should have just left, but I was hungry. So we went back to the bathroom for another surprisingly successful visit. Back to the table where Annie sat with Jack for 30 seconds, switched to my side of the booth for 30 seconds, played under the table for another 30 seconds, then needed to use the bathroom again. I was doubtful. But I had learned from experience that the minute you ignore that warning, you're going to have something of a mess on your hands. And your floor.

 We visited the bathroom four times before our food was delivered. After the second trip, she obviously didn't have anything left in the tank, yet each time she insisted on stripping down and sitting on the seat before announcing, "I done!"

 I tried desperately to distract Annie with her lunch, but she was more interested in visiting that amazing bathroom again than in eating some boring macaroni and cheese.  I raced through half of my salad with the speed of a toddler racing to the bathroom. And then we raced to the bathroom for a 5th visit. I begged Annie to please eat after that. She wasn't interested. "I not hungry. I need to go potty." I looked at Jack, who was so dazed by this point that he just waved and said, "go." He didn't mean to the bathroom, and I knew it. As we entered our neighborhood, my frustrated gaze met Annie's in the rearview mirror. She gave me a big grin and announced, "I HAWNgry."

Bluth Party

Great news, everyone...The Bluths are BACK!!! Although if you care at all, then you already knew that all the new episodes of Arrested Development were released on Netflix over the weekend. But this story starts months before, when the announcement was first made that they were coming.

Obviously this was great news worth celebrating Bluth style. The first step was to create an invitation so that everybody who was anybody would know about the party.

And of course, the RSVP cards, so we would have enough frozen bananas for everyone.

 

Turns out I underordered by about a dozen, so we had to resort to evites as I discovered an AD kinship with those of you I didn't know were fans!

Then the real work began: Selecting a costume (Lindsay Funke)

gathering items for the silent auction,

Three EW collector edition covers, quote buttons, Franklin magnets, Glisten toothpaste, Bluth Co Tshirts (and a shemale) and even a copy of Tractor Pull magazine. 

making Bluth bucks for guests to bid with at the auction:

In denominations from $1 (Buster) to $500 (George Sr.)

 planning a menu and making labels for the food

convincing Jack that he really should let me set up a mini Father / Son Triathlon in our backyard (presented by Teamocil)

and of course, banner making:

 

 

Did anyone get a picture of the banner that was hidden underneath this one?? Please send to me asap.

By the time venticinco finally rolled around, I was actually a little sad that all the planning and excitement were about to be over! But as we Funkes like to say, ONWARD AND UPWARD. The guests were about to arrive.


...to be continued

Catching up

We celebrated Annie's second birthday this month. I can't believe my sweet baby is two years old! In preparation for the event, we decided it was finally time to cut the mullet. Annie wasn't as psyched for the milestone as I'd hoped. But our sweet stylist was ready with a sucker, which was all Annie needed to convince her to sit in the chair.

 We had a birthday brunch with the grandmothers and a few friends.

 And Annie got a tricycle, which SB is teaching her to ride.

 Annie was pretty worn out by the end of the day.

I've been ordered to sing "Happy birthday to you" every night at bedtime since.

Annie is getting bigger, smarter and cuter every day. She sings her ABCs (with about 50% accuracy). Today she said a 6 word sentence on the way to church. I would have been excited if it hadn't been, "I want to eat the boogers." She's been learning too many things from SB.

Sarah Beth is a little too smart for her own good. She doesn't miss a thing. And she eats boogers. On the plus side, she has decided to stop sucking her thumb. Jack promised to build her a playhouse in the backyard if she did it. Then he decided to google search kids playhouses while SB was sitting next to him. Huge mistake. On a related note, we have started a playhouse fund if you'd like to donate.

One of SB's babysitters is getting married this summer. She called last week and asked if SB would be her flower girl. I took a photo of her on the phone getting the news.

Guess what. She said yes. She's actually been looking at bridal magazines every place we see them, picking out dresses and cakes for the big event.

The best news of all is that SB made a big decision this month. She asked Jesus to come into her heart! It was an exciting day.

My sweet girls are growing up so fast!

A Difficult Life

Two quick stories to share this morning:

Last week SB came into the living room and plopped down on the couch next to me. She sighed heavily and moaned, "My bunyans are KILLING me." I suspect this line came from her favorite show "Pound Puppies." A few months ago, she snuggled into my lap, called me Uncle Barlow and asked me to tell her a story. I later discovered that Uncle Barlow is a character from Pound Puppies. SB has a memory like an elephant and is constantly quoting things she hears other people say as well as infomercials. You may remember this story about Packit, which ended up on that company's facebook page not long after I shared it with you! A few days ago she was telling me all about another product called Custom Made. I saw the commercial a few days later, and most of it sounded very familiar. These folks surely know how to advertise to kids.

Yesterday SB was going to run errands with Jack. She had packed a few toys into her backpack in case she couldn't handle the 30 minute trip. She was struggling to get her backpack on for a minute before she sighed and said, "why does my life have to be so difficult?"

Strong Willed and Easily Irritated

Strong willed and easily irritated. Not a good combination. My sweet Sarah Beth turned FIVE earlier this month. I don't know what happened to my baby, but she is long gone. She desperately longs to be a grown up and constantly bemoans her youth. Every night while forcing vegetables down her throat or announcing with glee that "it's bedtime!!" I'm always met with the same response, "I wish I was a grown up so I could do/eat whatever I want."
 I'm trying to allow her some independence, but she often takes more than what is offered. Today we had lunch with my mother at a local restaurant. SB asked if she could order. I said sure. She ran up to the counter, greeted the cashier and ordered her food, drink, and requested a special side dish. Then she tugged on my shirttail and whispered loudly, "Mom! Can I pay?" The cashier was quite amused and played along nicely with Sarah Beth as though I wasn't even there. She thanked her for her order and handed her a cup and a number for our food. SB was quite pleased. "Can I get my own drink??" Of course. "Can you take Annie outside and I'll be there later?" No. She wasn't quite as pleased with that.
 After we chose a table outside, SB kept thinking of reasons to go back in. By herself. "Annie, do you want a cracker? Mom, can I go get Annie a cracker?"... "I really need to wash my hands. I'll be right back." She was not happy that I insisted on coming inside with her to the bathroom. She asked (told) me to stay by the drink machines while she washed her hands. When she realized she couldn't reach the faucet, she came for help, but immediately wanted to me to leave again. Her final trip inside the restaurant was for napkins. I let her go in but stood inside the doorway watching. She went to the condiment table and squatted down behind it. I don't know what in the world she was doing, but she was getting some strange looks. I hurried over to her and pulled her off the floor. She was sooooo embarrassed. "Mom! I'm okaaaaaay. I'm just looking for the napkins." That's funny. It looked an awful lot like you were trying to hide from me. And the napkins certainly weren't on the floor. I pointed to the basket on the table and she shooed me out the door. She waited until I was far enough away, then grabbed about 4 dozen napkins and casually strolled in the general direction of the door, smiling and nodding at each patron as she passed them. Just another grown up restaurant customer in need of lots of napkins.

 Whew. At this rate, she'll be having me drop her off three blocks from the movie theater by the time she's 12.

God likes it when

Sarah Beth asked if we could go to Sonic for lunch earlier this week. I usually get that request when leaving Wal Mart, as it is directly across the street. Meanie that I am, this time I said no. Immediately she hit me with the inevitable, "But WHYYYYYYYY?"

I explained that we had a car full of groceries and needed to get home to unload them. Plus we had plenty of food to eat at home, and chicken strips and fries aren't very healthy. SB was still unsatisfied. She sat quietly for a moment plotting a way to get to her fast food destination. Finally she said gently, "You know, Mom. God likes it when you do nice things for other people."

So I did something nice and didn't spank her for the blatant manipulation attempt.

Annie says

For those of you who plan to visit in the next few months, let me offer a translation guide to Annie speak:

Tup Tup: cup
TUUUUUUUUP!: I have spotted my cup.
Squeals of distress: I cannot open the tupperware cabinet / SB is sitting on top of me.
Rah Rah: Sarah
Daw: dog
Maaaaaah-ow: I see a cat. I am attempting to communicate with it.
Poo poo: diaper. not even a dirty diaper, just diaper.
Uh uh: yes (in most cases, no really means yes, unless you are offering her some kind of meat to eat, in which case, no really does mean no. Annie is a vegetarian).

Shish: I see Sarah Beth's fish. Which means I am in Sarah Beth's room. Which means I am probably going to be in trouble. (Usually followed by "nah no")
Nah no: I'm not supposed to touch whatever I am touching.

The last one is tough because it can mean any number of things. I'll narrow it down to the most common interpretations and what you should do in each instance.

Mama:
 1. most often means "I see my mother." No action necessary. Sometimes redirection is necessary when she repeats the word over and over and over for no reason. Especially when in the car.
 2. mama, when screamed frantically means "Help!" First check the tupperware cabinet as she is likely stuck in there. Otherwise, reprimand SB because she has probably taken a toy away from Annie.
 3. mama, when screamed in angry fashion early in the morning means "Get me out of my crib before I rip this thing apart." It's time to get her out of bed.
 4. mama, when whining means "I'm hungry." Get some food and a broom.
 5.mama, when repeatedly chirped excitedly means "I've just done something I'm not supposed to do. Look how cute I am before you check the toilet for your favorite shoe." Check the toilet for shoes. Close the bathroom door behind you to prevent additional casualties.

God's favorite color

SB asked Jack last week one of those questions that we as parents love to field. Not the "where do babies come from" variety of question, although I've certainly handled a few of those. This time, her question was much deeper.
SB: "Daddy, what is God's favorite color?"
Jack: "I don't know, Sarah Beth."
SB: "Ok, well I'll just ask Caroline."

Caroline is Sarah Beth's slightly older cousin, whom SB adores. She tells SB lots of things, many of them related to Justin Beiber.

Jack: "If I don't know what God's favorite color is, what makes you think Caroline knows?"
SB: "Caroline just knows those kinds of things.
Jack: "Well, if Caroline says she knows God's favorite color, then she is LYING. It's IMPOSSIBLE to know those kinds of things.

SB was quite taken aback at Jack's stern response. She thought for a minute and then said "Okaaaaaaay....well, I'll...deal.... with that.....tomorrow."

A few days later, we had the opportunity to ask Caroline. She didn't miss a beat. "Of course I know God's favorite color. It's white because He washed our sins away and now we're white as snow."

Turns out, she does know those kinds of things.

A present from SB

My dear friend Amy is getting married in September. SB and I are both in the wedding. I was telling SB about the wedding shower and how everyone brings a present and we have a party.

SB asked me, "Mom, what should we get her?"
Me: "I don't know, what do you think we should get her?"
SB: Ummmm...I know! What about a wedding dress?
Me: That's a great idea, but I think she already has one of those.
SB: Oh ok, a ring then!
Me: Mr. Brian gave her one of those already.
SB: Goodness. Well, how about a necklace she could wear when she gets married?
Me: That's a lovely idea. You can certainly get her one if you want. I'll let you pick out whatever you want for her.
SB: Or a bracelet or earrings or something.
Me: You know, you don't have to get her something for her WEDDING. Usually people buy things that she will need after she's married.
SB: Ohhhhh ok . Well then I will get her some baby clothes in case she wants to have a baby.
Me: I don't think Aunt Amy is ready to have a baby just yet.
SB: Why not?
Me: Hey, you want to go to Newks for lunch???

At the store SB wanted to get everything she saw (in her favorite color blue).

SB: Mom, let's get her that blue candle!
Me: Is that what you really want to get her?
SB: No....wait! I see a something!

It was a shelf of travel mugs. We went back, but there were no blue ones. SB was distressed.

SB: I guess I'll just go get her some baby toys.
Me: How about a necklace? Didn't you say you wanted to get her one of those?

We perused the jewelry section and she changed her mind 7-8 times before settling on a pair of blue earrings. Sb is certain they will be perfect with Amy's wedding dress. I did talk her out of these

 and also some 4th of July feather hair extensions and rubber arm bands. I finally relented when SB reminded me that I had said that she could pick out whatever she wanted.

I had to run through the clothing section to get some socks before we left. SB was wandering around, and I heard her yelling from another aisle that she found the perfect thing.
I peeked around the corner and SB was wrapped up in a silky soft nightie in her favorite color blue.

SB: Mom, this is perfect! I want to get her this.
Me: Well, you already got the earrings so...
SB: No, I changed my mind. I want this.
Me: I don't think so. I'm not sure that's right for this shower.
SB: But whyyyyy? You said anything I wanted!
Me: Hey, you want to go to Newks for lunch?

I dragged her out of the store with the earrings and promises of Newks pizza, and now I know just what to get for the lingerie shower.

10,000 Reasons

 Yesterday we sang one of my (and Sarah Beth's) favorite songs. 10,000 Reasons by Matt Redman. I couldn't help but tear up during the second verse thinking about my sweet Annie and how thankful we are that she is healthy. My "moment" was interrupted when we got to the chorus and SB started yelling at the top of her lungs "BLESS THE LOOOOOORD oh my soul, OH MY SOUUUUUUUL." (Note to self: have a talk with SB about the difference between singing and yelling and disrupting worship time). After I and the people around me got over the giggles, I went back into thankful mode.

We had kind of a scary week with Annie earlier this month. When I took her to the doctor for her 15 month check up, the doctor wasn't pleased when I told her that Annie is a vegetarian. Not because I showed her one of those gross food documentaries but because she refuses to go near anything that looks or smells meaty. The doctor recommended we check her blood to see if she was anemic. I would have been amazed was she not.

 But first she listened to her heartbeat. Then she frowned, moved the stethoscope around and listened some more. Heart murmur. Not happy news. She assured me that anemia could cause that and not to worry yet. Everything else looked fine, so after giving her a shot, another nurse came in to draw blood to check her iron levels. SB also had to have a shot, so it was Scream Fest 2012 in that exam room.

 As soon as I walked in the door at home from the doctor's office, my cell phone rang. It was the doctor. She said that Annie was anemic, which I had pretty much expected to hear. She suggested boosting her iron to take care of that and then see if the heart murmur would go away once we got her iron levels up to normal. I was okay with all of that. Mary Beth had already assured me that it probably wasn't anything to worry about. It is during times like these that it really pays to have a sister who is a nurse. Specifically a nurse who works in a pediatric cardiac wing of a large hospital.

 Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of the conversation. The doctor then asked me if I could come back in to the office.

Right now?

Yes, right now.

Could I come tomorrow instead? I just got home and we live half an hour away.

First thing would be best.

This did not make me feel good. I asked what the problem was and she told me that Annie's white blood cell count was pretty high. This made me feel even worse. Had she been sick lately, the doctor wanted to know. Not so much as a sniffle or a sneeze. No fever. No nothing. Everything had looked fine at the office that morning. Ears, nose, throat - nothing looked suspicious. The only thing left for me to fear as a terrified mother was the worst case scenario. The c word. I put in another emergency call to nurse sister. She calmed me down a little.

 "Emily, don't look for a zebra when there is a horse standing in front of you." My meltdown only lasted about an hour before I pulled myself together. A horse, of course. Back to the doctor on Thursday to run more tests. We spent the whole morning and then some in that office waiting. I'm pretty sure Annie remembered her experience there from the day before (shots and drawing blood) because she went nuts every time a nurse or doctor came in to see us. The doctor was certain that since everything else looked fine, she must have a bladder infection. She sent us home that afternoon with an antibiotic and another appointment for Monday morning.

 Monday arrived and the doctor came in with the news: no bladder infection. I had actually spent the weekend praying that Annie had a bladder infection. Simple explanation, simple fix. It was at this point that I began to panic. Why on earth had I not accepted my mothers offer to come along with me to that appointment? The doctor was at a loss for what was wrong with my baby. She had no more ideas regarding what could be causing the infection.

 So she suggested that we check Annie's blood again and go from there. After being on an antibiotic for 4 days at this point, maybe her white cell count had come down. Another finger prick and she sent us home to await results. MERCIFULLY we didn't have to wait long. She called me soon after I left the office with the good news. The number had come down to almost within normal range. The antibiotic was working. We would probably never know what caused the infection, but at least whatever it had been was going away.

 Just one more reason to add to our list of 10,000. That reminds me, I need to have a chat with SB.

 Thanks to those of you who prayed for Annie that week! And if you didn't even know about it, don't feel bad. I didn't tell anyone because I wasn't ready to sound the alarm bells. Jack told several people who were praying, and I believe that made all the difference.

He must REALLY be hurt

 We spent the better part of an afternoon in the backyard last week playing ladderball. Philip came over with his kids and one of our neighbors came over with his little boy. We noticed later that evening that Oscar wasn't walking very well. In fact, he wasn't walking at all. It was clear that one of his legs was really hurting him. We figured with all the kids running around, someone probably stepped on him or something. With much coaxing, we were able to get him to limp a few steps, so we decided to wait until morning before calling the vet if he wasn't better.

 Sarah Beth was pretty worried about her little buddy, so she stayed by his side to pet and reassure him. Jack had the bright idea that a little wine might cheer Oscar up, or at least numb the pain a bit. So he dumped the remainder of my wine glass into Oscar's bowl. Sarah Beth kept constant vigil over Oscar for the next half hour or so, then came over to update us on his progress.

"Mom, I think Oscar is really hurting. He hasn't even TOUCHED his wine."


Just so you know, Oscar was up and running the next morning, although he never drank a drop of his wine. What a waste.

SB's outfit makes Annie feel...

Annie does not approve.

Seriously Sarah Beth

Oh, the joys of raising children. Even more so raising Jack's children. Sarah Beth has been on top of her game this week, so I thought I would share a few stories that have kept us laughing.

This morning I was in the dining room feeding Annie her breakfast. I heard SB behind me inhaling deeply. "Mmmmmm. Smells delicious." I was wondering how she could smell the yogurt I was spooning into Annie's mouth. I turned around and saw her passing a wine cork underneath her nose. Smells delicious.

Later in the day she was recounting her adventures with her babysitter (Lauren) from the night before. She told me what they had done and then said, "but she couldn't find peppermint puke." I'm sorry...what? She replied, "Lauren couldn't find pepper mcpuke." It took a few more tries before I guessed what she was trying to say. Her new favorite cartoon, pepe le pew, the skunk from Looney Tunes. Last time she watched it, we spent the rest of the day dissecting it. "Mom, why did the skunk think a CAT was another skunk?" I don't know. "But how did he get inside the man's house? It was locked. I know it was locked. I saw him open it with a key." I don't know. "Why did the man get so freaked out because a skunk was in his house? Was it because he was afraid it would spray him?" Probably so. "Mom, you know what I would do if a skunk got in OUR house?" What? "Well, first, I would get a shovel. Then I would, well, wait, first I would put some tape on the shovel. I would use some tape to tape some tape to the shovel...Mom, why didn't the man just get a shovel and try to get the skunk out?" I don't know. "Well, I would have gotten a shovel......." She went on but I tuned out.

SB loves to watch me get ready in the mornings. Sometimes I let her put on a little powder and blush, but I always tell her how beautiful she looks without it. So she has started telling me every day how beautiful I look (and how I smell like a "beautiful blonde princess.") I was getting ready to leave last night. Jack and I were just going to have dinner at another couples house, nothing fancy so I was just wearing jeans and a simple shirt. I was also wearing an old pair of flip flops, but I planned to change shoes before I left. SB came into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet and inspected me closely. She sighed...how to put this delicately. "Mom, you look so beautiful." Thank you, sweetheart. So do you. She waited a minute before reaching out to finger the bottom of my shirt. "But Mom, I would just change your pants.......and your shirt." Thank you, Sarah Beth, I'm quite comfortable in this though. I held my laughter while I bolted out of the room and bumped into Jack. I told him what she said and she reappeared behind me..."And Mom, you should change your shoes too." It's even funnier considering that earlier she was wearing a light blue skirt with a long sleeved purple top. And her rain boots.

PS Goldie #2 is going on 2 weeks now!! Hooray! Although if SB continues to let all of her friends pet her goldfish, she may not make it too much longer.

Concrete Jungle Make You Feel Brand New

I know what you're thinking. Where did I sit?

The bike attachment appeared to be made to carry two adults. So there we were. Three deep on a bicycle built for two. Our poor driver seemed to put so much effort into pedaling (uphill the whole way) that he seemed a little confused on how to get to our hotel. I know we circled the block around the theater at least once.

In Times Square, we found ourselves in the middle of a bumping car parade. For whatever reason, this was the time when our driver decided to actually obey a traffic law and stopped at a red light. We were completely surrounded by tricked out cars in neon shades from lime green to magenta. They were all leaning to the left or right and most of them were lunging up and down. We had a clear view into the car to our left, and I wish we hadn't. I leaned back into the cart and tried to avoid eye contact with everyone. The playbill in my lap was suddenly very interesting.

At this point, I realized that Mary Beth was actually leaning out of the cart with her iPhone trying to take some pictures while commenting loudly, "Oh my gosh, do yall see that car??" The men in that car were close enough to reach out and snatch her phone (or us). Did I mention that their window was down? Meredith and I were hissing and pulling on her coat, ordering in our best big sister voices that she GET BACK INTO THE CART RIGHT THIS SECOND.

I was afraid. Why was traffic not moving? Why did our biker boy decide to rest right then in that spot? Maybe he was too afraid to weave through those cars like he had been doing all night. I would not have wanted to anger anyone driving one of those cars either. Finally we wrangled MB back into the cart and started moving (and breathing) again.

After surviving another frightening experience, we were hungry (remember we passed on Sbarro earlier in the day). Meredith asked our cyclist where was a good place to get pizza in her best caveman lingo: “Hungry. Pizza." He suggested Sbarro. We cracked up. He took us instead to Ray’s. He insisted that we wait in the cart while he took our order and went inside to fill it. How kind of him! This guy was getting a big tip. As he started pedaling us back to the Palace, we thought he might need a little encouragement to get us all the way there.

Thanks to the mood music, he managed to cycle us all the way to the hotel. And it turned out that he had included a generous tip for himself in the price of the ride.

Saturday was our last day. Sadness. We had a lot to fit into our final day, so we got up sort of early and got ready to hit Central Park while MB totally redeemed herself and brought us Starbucks. I definitely took more pictures in Central Park than anywhere else. I wish we could have spent more time there. We saw Strawberry Fields, Bethesda Fountain and that beautiful, wide walkway that you always see in the movies where the trees are hanging over either side like a canopy. I will try to just pick a few faves:



Side note: Meredith and MB had tons of fun dressing me, fixing my hair and doing my make up every day. When Jack was looking at my pictures, he asked me about my outfit, "So, um, was that something you actually...wore?" Yes, Jack, I actually wore that.


At the fountain, we could hear music and singing coming from a nearby tunnel. We were really impressed by this group, the Boyds for Praise Company. Siblings that sing beautifully together.



From the Park, we walked a few blocks and hopped on the subway since we were pros at not wanting to take taxis. On to Greenwich Village where MB and I bought matching necklaces

and Meredith bought everything else we saw.

We stopped for lunch at a cafe in the Village and met a really nice couple who were more than happy to suggest some good shopping sites. We spent the afternoon shopping and even ventured into Chinatown for only as long as it took to walk a city block. Mary Beth bought a purse out of a garbage bag, then we decided in the interest of safety, we should probably head north. We weren't sure if we were in Little Italy or not, but we needed to rest our feet, so we stopped at an Italian place for an appetizer and some energy drinks. We had to get refueled for our grand finale, which deserves a post all its own.