Water Pitcher Hale Fail

Don't take a glass pitcher out of the fridge and rinse it under steaming hot water. It will crack. And you will need to get a new one because you just realized it's perfect for sangria and you need a great glass pitcher.

Why I did it this way, and didn't think to let the pitcher warm up, or run cool water instead of burn-my-hand-off water is anyone's guess. Hale Fail. Cost: $35 + shipping.

Who Needs Running Water Anyway?

We have a kitchen! It's pretty and clean and new. We have shiny black granite counter tops and white cabinets. We have a new floor and fancy drawers made especially for utensils and others that roll out. On June 14th the demolition began and our kitchen sink, stove and microwave were gone. The water was turned off. After weeks of washing bottles in the bathroom and eating take-out food, we are finally in! All boxes are unpacked and I am seeing my beautiful white plates that I haven't seen since my bridal shower in 2010! We can finally cook our own food! We have set up the high chair for Boo-Boos and have started feeding him real food (that is to be discussed in another post because HOLY MESS)! Sorry for all the exclamation points, but its just so exciting!! I love our new home! What a cozy place for our new little family.

I'd like to take a minute to say THANK YOU to Nashoba Bakery for yummy coffee and literally the best scones EVER and to Dino's for providing us affordable, local, and varied meals for lunch and dinner. And for not laughing at us when we ordered from you twice a day.

Hale Fail

For those of you who know my husband, you know that THINGS happen to him. I wouldn't consider any of them to be tragic or serious, but they are irritating and consistent. You may recall the splinter story, or heard the dirt muffin story (or if not, you should... seriously... dirt in his muffin...like, baked in... several times, with years in between incidents). Now after 4 years together, these things have transfered to me. Things are happening to me that would never happen before I met SHM. They happen when I am with him and when I am alone. So, here are some terms we have coined, named after SHM, who has dealt these THINGS on a daily basis, his whole life.

Hale Fail: noun: Something that happens to you that is incredibly minor and uneventful, but irritating. A Hale Fail will happen with such frequency, that despite how small it is, its effect on you will compound and become so annoying that after several have occurred, you will have a grossly inappropriate reaction causing you to look overly sensitive or angry. You aren't, but there's only so much one can take.
Super Hale Fail: noun: When the Hale Fail that causes the inappropriate reaction happens in public and you have to hold in your scream/yell/curse.

Here are some events that have happened to me in the past 6 months; examples of a Hale Fail:

1) Dropping your car keys 4 consecutive times while holding a baby, a diaper bag and a dog leash (and each time your dog is startled and lunges away from you, pulling you and baby and bag with her).
2) Hitting yourself in the same spot on your shin with a car seat or stroller so that you have a permament bruise (Super Hale Fail: When it happens at The Club's Father's Day BBQ).
2a)SHM would add: Biting the inside of your cheek, and then it is sore and swells, causing several more bites, each more painful than the previous bite.
3) While eating steak shish-kabob and pulling off a bit of steak, the skewer somehow bounces back and you stab yourself in the thumb, drawing blood.
4) You are watching the Australian Open Championship match, Nadal v. Djokovich, 6 hours in, it is a historically long match. You have stopped and started this match along the way so you are no longer watching it live. You are watching what is to be the final set, when the emergency test signal comes on, negating your recording. When it comes back to the match, it's over.

If you wonder if you are having a Hale Fail ask yourself one of the following questions:
a)Have you dropped the same item more than twice within 2 minutes (particularly if you are in a rush)?
b)Have you injured yourself in the spot more than once?
c)Have you forgotten or failed to realize something super DUPER obvious, often with financial consequences?
d)Do you exercise extreme caution, to the point of awkwardness,to protect your extremities because of past Hale Fails (ex: stepping two feet above a low rope to avoid tripping)?
e)Have you done absolutely nothing wrong at all, and yet people fail to have your appointment correct, or name in their system?

If you have answered "yes" to any of these, you have experienced a Hale Fail.

5am anyone?... Anyone?

Boo-Boos woke up at 5:07 this morning...and I actually feel good. This may be because SHM and I went to bed at 9:30pm (we are no longer able to keep pre-baby hours no matter how we try, we can't even watch shows that start at 9, we won't finish them, thank god for DVR). Or maybe its because Boos slept straight through from 7pm- 5am. AHHHHH uninterrupted sleep is a dream! About a month ago we were living large with an 8-6 schedule and feeling quite smug. However, we made some tweaks to create a nighttime routine and things started to go awry... Maybe it was our tweaks, maybe it was the infamous "sleep regression" that I have read so much about, but whatever the cause, the first night he woke up at 8:15, 10:30, 1:30 and 6:00am. A week into it he was still waking up two to three times a night... Until last night- Hurrah! A full sleep through!

So it is now 6:00am, we are watching the US Open (recorded from last night), and drinking coffee and eating a breakfast assortment from 7-11 because even though the website says that Dunkins is open at 5:00am, the two locations within a mile of us are not. Oh, and why not make our own breakfast at this fantastic hour? Because construction has FINALLY begun on our new kitchen (super exciting), and we have no working stove or sink and trying to do anything related to food in our bathroom sink is just not quite right.

Always Replenish the Diaper Bag

Boos and I ran a few errands the other day.

Sidebar: Right after I established Monkers as Baby’s official blog name, we promptly stopped calling him that. He is now Boos. Short for Boo-Boos.

We drove here and there and ended up at the Mall. This is my favorite mall since it added a new fancy section with trees, classical music and fountains (or the sound of running water? Now that I think of it, I’ve never actually seen a fountain. Maybe I am just imagining the water sound because it’s so serene, huh. Anywaaayy). I have recently found that not only do they have large beautiful restrooms, but there are PRIVATE nursing rooms. PRIVATE. With a comfy chair, your own sink and changing area. And it’s oh-so-clean (I mean, as far as mall bathrooms go).
So I like this mall and Boos and I are having a great outing. He’s being perfect and calm and entertaining himself with his bug toy so I am able to return my things without incident and (bonus) have lunch. On my way out, I think that I better check his diaper, lest I suffer through 30 minutes of crying on the way home. Plus, it’s excuse for me to use the amahhzing nursing rooms. So we head in, get set up, and holy crap- literally. I find a poop explosion that has come up his back, through his clothes (2 layers) and leaked out to the car seat. CRAP (literally). I quickly grab my diaper bag- ONE diaper- phew, that was a close one. Then I grab the wipes- TWO wipes- err- that’s not going to cut it. I quickly scan around, find anti-bacterial gel in my bag and grab some paper towels to create homemade wipes. Poopy clothes have been tossed into the sink to be soaked (not so easy when the faucet is automatic and on a timer). I save the two wipes for that cute little bum and YES, I do still have a spare outfit so I do not have leave the mall with a naked baby. Lesson of the Day: Always check supply levels BEFORE leaving the house.

Meanwhile, Boos considers this to be the funniest moment of his life. I have a picture of it all but I'll spare you. This one was taken at lunch, before everything went to... poop.

Breathing into the Wind

I often forget that babies are new. New to life and so new to everything in life. Since Baby is a winter baby, he is on the lower end of the bell curve when it comes to experiencing things outside. His environment has stayed pretty stable, pretty consistent and always comfortable (lucky Baby). There have been a few jaunts into the great outdoors thanks to our mild winter (and global warming? err). But until recently, these jaunts have immediately put Baby to sleep, or have been calm days with no wind.
Then recently, SHM and I took Baby out on a beautiful and windy day. We ran several errands in town and then decided just spend time outside with Baby in the carriage. The sun was shining! The wind was blowing! And we look over and Baby is turning his head about, taking in weird gulps of air- what on earth? Then we realized that this was the same thing he did when we blew in his face, and then two and two came together- he didn't know how to breathe in the wind! EEEE! So cute!! It only took him a couple of seconds to figure it out, but those seconds were priceless and a reminder to us that even though WE feel quite aged and tired and like we've been doing this baby thing forever, HE is only 11 weeks old and every experience is brand new.

Also, from here on out, Baby is now being referred to as Monkers, short for Chunky Monkers, which, when said by SHM makes Baby smile the widest.

Stuffy Baby was Really Stuffy

In fact, stuffy Baby had a mild case of a fairly severe respiratory virus, RSV. What began as a small check-up with the pediatrician turned into a 2 night stay at the illustrious Emerson Hospital. Luckily it was just for observation, some saline nebulizing and some extended time in an oxygen tent. Baby was a trooper, wooing the nurses as he recovered. At the end of it, his lungs were clear, there was oxygen in his veins and he had slept longer at night then ever at home. He still has an old man cough in the morning, but otherwise, we are happy campers again.

Stuffy Baby

Nothing is sadder than a sick baby. Not serious sick, of course, I mean minor, inconvenient, but not worrisome, sick. This week I'm dealing with some stuffiness and coughing. No fever, and he's still able to eat and sleep, so it's not THAT bad, which makes it sad and funny when he sneezes his little sneezes and when he coughs his biddy coughs. Much like the way it's also sad and funny when your baby cries so hard his voice vibrates and his face turns red (to which I say "just put your leg down and I'll be done changing your diaper and we can all be happy jeeeeeez!!").
But this cold is making him grumpy and it's super sad to hear him coughing and sniffling and who knew that takes years for kids to learn how to blow their noses- doesn't it seem instinctive to want get all that out, as opposed to sniffling it back in?! I think so.
All we can do is turn on the humidifier, keep him upright, suction out his boogers after he sneezes, and snuggle him until he get better. Poor little boy.

6 weeks!

My son is 6 weeks old tomorrow! I can't believe we made it! 6 weeks. He's gained 3 pounds from his hospital discharge weight, and is an inch longer. He can pick his head up. He smiles and looks RIGHT AT us! Here's to the next 6 weeks being a little easier than the last:)

The Cutest Little Things

There are a lot of cute things about babies. Their little mini- ears, their little mini- toes, their little mini- fingers.The feature that seems to facinate the most people are fingernails. They are OH SO cute. SO teeny tiny!

They also, however, are sharp like razor blades. 10 mini razor blades shredding my chest, 10 mini razor blades, so sharp that when Jack sometimes scratches his face they make him look like he got into a rumble with an aggressive house cat. Oh and to top it off, they grow like weeds and getting him to keep still to cut them is as hard as cutting the nails of the previously mentioned aggressive house cat.

Catching Up

There has been a bit of a hiatus. In the naive way that only a first-time-mom can dream, I truly believed the following things:
a) pregnancy couldn't get worse than it was at 35 weeks
b) I would be able to "sleep when the baby sleeps"
c) I would be able to use my brain to think about things other than nursing and counting poops
d) I thought for sure I would be able to read a book here and there in all my "down time"

What I have now learned is:
a) Week 39 is SO much worse
b) I COULD sleep when the baby sleeps, but then I would have to forego showers and food
c) Not only can I not wrap my brain around anything else besides nursing and pooping, but I can't even keep that straight, so I write it down (along with when I take out and feed the dog, lest she starves, poor thing)
d) Not only are there no books being opened, in my "downtown" (joke) the only things my brain can absorb are MTV reality shows (Teen Mom 2 anyone?) or the E! network...

But I am finally able to write coherent sentences! Hurrah! And here is the reason for all this... Jack Estrela Mattison... born December 22, 2011

34 weeks down

Today I hit 34 weeks. And I am tired. Very tired. And I feel very big. I am also very aware that the time is nearing where the labor could be begin. I know it is unlikely that it will happen in the next two weeks... but it could. It seems that the one thing people like to do when you're pregnant is tell you their own "I was SUPER early" or "I was SUPER late" stories. So really, according to every individual story out there, it could happen at any moment between now and mid January. EEEEE.
I have heard and read several times that the last weeks of pregnancy are geared to make you WANT to go into labor (code for: let's make you so uncomfortable you'd rather push a watermelon out of a keyhole than stay this way). I have certainly gotten to that point. Here is a list of things that, as a result of my melon-stomach, are very difficult to do:
Tie my own shoes
Put on pants
Touch the floor for any other reason
Have Petunia sit on my lap (sad dog)
Sit close to the table
Walk briskly (although I do try)
Walk up hills at any pace
Shave my legs
Get up from the coach unassisted
Use my abdominal muscles
SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT
This last one is the killer. JUST GET ME THERE!!

Birthing Class

Everyone recommends that new parents take a birthing class. Originally we were going to do a 6 week class, but our schedules got crazy, and instead we decided to pack it all into 1 weekend. 8 hours on Saturday, 4 hours on Sunday. This happened this past weekend. There was not a TON of new information, but plenty of opportunity to ask questions like "do I wear glasses or contacts during labor?", "when EXACTLY do I go to the hospital?" and "how do I introduce my dog to my baby"?. There were funny things about this class as well. For one, our instructor had a significant high-pitched wheeze. Every three sentences or so she would take a sharp breath in and you could hear a loud whistling. This happened about every three sentences for 8 hours on Saturday and 4 hours on Sunday. Another helpful thing was discussing and practicing pain management. Breathing, positioning yourself differently, distracting yourself from the pain with back massages (this was nice), etc. To practice this breathing and relaxation, we did some visualization meditation. However, I don't know about you, but visualizing my own labor and giving birth is not very relaxing, nor is being propped up on pillows that caused an incredible burning pain around my lower back and my tailbone and poor SHM, who had to support me by leaning back on his hands for 25 minutes. Nor was the snoring woman next to us (although clearly she was plenty relaxed). Or the insufferable church laughter that we both inevitably had and it was SO bad!
Despite all of this, the class was great at easing fears and talking through a lot of scary but inevitable aspects of giving birth. The best part about it all was that SHM was able to sit through the whole thing without feeling faint or squeamish, and this included a play by play of a c-section which I had to turn away from. So at least we know he'll make it:) YAY!

Things Beyond My Control

Minor and Major Things That are Beyond My Control:

1. The weather on my wedding day
2. The weather in general
3. Waiting 45 minutes for a table at my favorite restaurant that does not take reservations
4. Changes in other peoples' schedules that affect my schedule
5. My due date
6. The gender of the person delivering my baby....

My doctor's office is all women. It specializes in women's issues and all its doctors are women. While I have had the same doctor throughout my pregnancy, I was told early on that in my third trimester I would start rotating through all the doctors, in case my doctor was not available for when I go into labor. Yesterday, at my 31-week check up, I was informed that actually, there are 4 more doctors who share the weekend rotation. Oh yeah, and one's a man. Now I know that men have been OBGYNs forever and lots of women go to plenty of male doctors, blah blah, but I am not one of those women. I actually haven't had a male doctor since Chuck, my pediatrician at Mystic Family Clinic and I am pretty sure the last time I saw him I was 6 and getting a booster shot. I have always had women doctors and that is actually specifically why I chose the practice I chose. For no men. I just don't want a man THERE, while I'm doing THAT. No thanks. My current doctor assured me he was very experienced and SUPER nice. Almost as if he KNOWS that he's not what the women of this practice are expecting. Well that's nice... I have no control over my due date, and I have no control over the rotation... I have no control over this situation... I'll breathe, ignore the possibility and remain calm...

My Ability to Keep Thoughts in My Head

I have heard a lot of talk about a condition of pregnancy called "Baby Brain" or "Mommy Brain Drain" and the negative effect it has on one's ability to recall information, tap into short term memory and generally be able to formulate coherent sentences. When I was first pregnant I felt this effect right away. At one point I was so bad that a friend of mine (known to bloggers as Ultimate Chicken) actually guessed my condition based on the fact that I had lost my train of thought twice and forgotten 3 different things in the course of 10 minutes.
But then, like most dreadful side effects of Trimester 1, it disappeared. I was able to keep track of many things at once. And remember them too! Someone could ask me for something at lunch and I would be able to remember it back at my desk 30 minutes later. Amazing.
But alas, the onset of Tri 3 has reduced me once again. Today I have found my head swimming with To Do's for work, home and miscellaneous. I am currently keeping 3 separate lists. My third list is my newest, just started in the car this afternoon when I miraculously remembered that I needed dog food while I was at the bank which is NEXT TO THE PET STORE. If you can't tell from my tone, this sort of serendipity has not been happening to me lately. So I thought I'd try to run with it- was there anything else I could get to pop into my brain? The next minute of thoughts went like this: Yes! I need to write a thank you card for a baby gift, I also need to balance my bank account. And there was more... what was it... let me jot these things down anyway and start driving home, but wait- YES! I remember the third! where is that receipt scrap I have been writing on and a pen, where is my pen? shoot I just HAD it, what car is that in front of me? A new VW? I like it... Got the pen! Wait, what was it that I was writing? BLAST! It's gone. Oh, but I do want to get a hair cut, that wasn't it, but I'll write it down anyway....

I did finally remember what that missing item was, but the list is in my purse in the kitchen and I am in the living room and I cannot for the life of my remember what it was.

Baby Dreams

We are not finding out the sex of our baby. As a result, lots of people have given their predictions and asked me if I have a "feeling" of what it's going to be. Other women have told me that they had signs, or feelings, or they just knew. Some women dream the sex of their baby. My mother, when pregnant with me, said she had a dream where not only did she see what I was, but she saw my exact face! She knew ahead of time what I was going to look like. And I looked just like how she dreamed! That's weird.
So far I have had two dreams:

Dream #1 was at about 16 weeks or so. I was in a warehouse of some sort. My parents were there and my brother and sister in law and SHM. Everyone was going about their business, doing their own thing in the warehouse which was all completely normal. I am pregnant in the dream, but not very... maybe half way, but I suddenly go into labor. I start yelling to people because I know that I am early, but the baby just shoots right out. Probably within 30 seconds. I am relieved, no labor! That was so easy! And I have a boy. A suddenly 3 year old boy, with red hair. Everyone is excited.

Dream # 2 was at about 20 weeks. This time I am completely asleep for the labor (are you noticing a theme?) and wake up to SHM handing me the baby. This time it's a girl. I am a little bummed that I missed out on the entire birthing experience, although I am happy that I am not in pain. This time I am in a proper hospital. But it looks like a ski chalet, and we have two rooms, one with a fire place. Petunia is there with us as well. SHM and I look at each other and look at our girl. I keep saying the name we have picked out in advance and he doesn't respond. Finally I say "don't you like this name? I thought we had agreed on it?" and he says "sure sure, we can change it" and then I am confused. What is her name then? SHM replies "Stephanie Francesco". At this point I start to yell and cry, and I think I throw my phone at him and yell something that I cannot call my parents and tell them the baby is named Stephanie Francesco. He says "ok, ok, I'll change it, no bid deal". And that's the end of the dream.

So those are my two dreams so far. Not very helpful in terms of predicting the sex. Although now, instead of calling the baby "it" we call it "Steffi Francesco".

The Plights of Pregnancy Catch Up to Me

At week 28 I have been reading more books and blogs about pregnancy. I have to say, compared to some of the stories I have read, my pregnancy hasn't been so bad (KNOCK ON LOTS OF WOOD). There are a lot of side effects associated with pregnancy that have kept a happy distance from me. There was some fatigue and nausea first trimester, but nothing too severe. I never actually threw up which seems like a miracle, and I could keep a fairly good handle on my upset stomach by taking my prenatals at night and keeping to a strict diet of cereal, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti, and anything made out of carbs. And then, as I entered week 12, the nausea went away. Salads, chicken, fish and other healthy sources of protein no longer make me cringe- hurrah!
I spent my second trimester waiting for various shoes to drop. I was waiting for the heightened sense of smell, the weird food cravings, the spidery stretch marks. But.. nothing... So far, so good.
Until today. Today I am starting to feel quite pregnant. As I scurry across campus from one meeting to another, I feel more like I'm waddling then walking. I have been drinking lots of water (need to stay hydrated!), but today, the baby has decided to plant itself upon my bladder. So of course, I've gone to the bathroom a million times and probably within ten minutes of going, I start to need to go again. But, of course, the urge to go is not gradual like it should be. It's urgent, immediate. Like something is pressing hard on my bladder, and then kicks me in the bladder in case I wasn't getting the message.
Finally, for the past few weeks, in the evenings when SHM and I are done watching TV, he has been sweet and given me little boosts off the couch. We laugh about it, and the fact that "wow, I'm really looking pregnant". But it has always been more of a gesture then really necessary. Tonight, as I sit on the couch writing this blog, I need to get up and go to the bathroom. The effort both of us need to put forth in getting me off the couch is no longer a "little boost" nor is it a gesture. It is quite real and quite necessary. This realization and the fact that I still have 12 weeks to go and the baby has about 5 pounds to gain is my biggest plight of pregnancy so far.

Pregnant Thoughts

The last time I wrote for this blog I was 4 weeks pregnant and didn't know it yet. I am now 6 months pregnant and staring down the third trimester. Starting 6 months ago, my feelings about pregnancy were ranging from being shocked, to excited, to anxious, to excited, to panicked, to excited, to panicked again (notice the theme) and now I am just impatient. There is an awful lot of build up to the "biggest change of your life". You hear a lot of comments like "Better get your sleep now!" or "It will change your life" or "Have your fun now, it's all going to come to an end soon". Encouraging. And unlike planning for your wedding (which is also 9 months of build up, sometimes more), the fear of this unknown puts a light damper on the excitement. You know your life is about to change forever. You know it's monumental. You just can't possibly imagine what it's REALLY like. This isn't just build up for a big fun party and a pretty white dress. This is the build up of a whole new little PERSON. A person who is, by the way, growing inside you. A person who is kicking you from the inside out, much like you'd imagine an alien would if it somehow got stuck inside your stomach. And this little person will need you for every second of every day for everything for YEARS. Until they don't and they're yelling at you to leave them alone. This is not at all intimidating. BUT, we stay positive.
This week I have exactly 3 months to go until my due date (December 27- Christmas Baby? New Years Baby? Can I just be 10 days early??). As I have settled into my emotions (or maybe it's the hormones that have temporarily settled), I am noticing that there is a lot about being pregnant that I will want to remember (and a lot that I'll happily forget but laugh at later). So, for the next few months be prepared for my pregnant musings. Hopefully one day Baby Mattison will think it all as funny as I did.

We So Excited!

The 7th Grade trip to NYC was a success! We navigated all 40 girls through Brooklyn, Times Square and Ellis Island without incident despite the fact that they much more concerned with staring up at the lights on Times Square than with watching where we were going and had to be re-herded on several occasions. I won't bore you with the whole trip, but here are some amusing stories:
The girls were so excited to get to NY, we could barely contain them on the bus. One particularly animated young lady narrated a large portion of our trip through song, to the tune of "Friday" by Rebecca Black. If you haven't heard it yet, you need to... it's a YouTube and Middle School phenomenon. She also had a cute little game called "firsts" which went like this: "first hydrant!" "first New York doctor!" "first New York puppy!" first sbarros" first park!" "first orange car" "first guy riding a bicycle!" "first blue door!" "first deli!" "first, wait, what's that? Tasty Dee-Lite? OHH let's go there it looks yummy!" You get the drift.
Later that evening, we chaperones surprised the girls with a side trip to Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum. The girls were running all over getting pictures of every statue (the most popular were Beyonce, Michael Jackson, Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio, Taylor Swift, with Justin Bieber being the main objective). One of my advisees who WORSHIPS Taylor Swift, started to cry when she saw the statue! To which a confused classmate whispered to me quietly "but it's not the REAL Taylor Swift".
Since we were rushing through in order to make it to the theater in time, I was constantly ushering girls to move along, while also trying to remind them that they were in public and could not be hyper shrieking girls, but to remain somewhat composed. During these efforts, I ushered a stranger by the arm (she saw what I was trying to do and laughed). I also yelled at two of my girls for jumping in front of a woman taking a picture of the Michael Jackson statue, only to realize that the photographer was also made of wax. Creepy. I definitely could see a horror movie out of all this (wasn't there one? Starring Paris Hilton?).
So overall, a great trip; exhausting but great! The girls seemed to have a great time. And now I don't have to go again until next year:)

New York! New York!

I am writing this on the eve of my third Middle School Chaperoning Trip at Girls Prep. We are taking the 7th grade to New York City for two days and one night. We will walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, take the train, walk through Times Square, see a Broadway show (Lion King), and take them to Ellis Island. All this, without losing a single girl. I have spent a few afternoons answering questions like "Can you tell us who we're rooming with? Can you tell us the bus seats? What about just the first name? What about the first initial of the last name? Can we bring snacks on the bus? Can we bring snacks to the hotel? Can we buy snacks in Time Square, Can we buy snacks at the play? What if we get lost?
As I go over the details again and again, I can't help but reminisce about my own school trips.
In 4th grade I was at Progressive Elementary and we were studying American History. We took a trip to the Old State House and put flowers on the spot of the Boston Massacre and had a memorial service (complete with eulogies) for those who died. I was shocked 7 years later when I found out it wasn't so much a massacre, as an angry mob provoking soldiers. I remember sitting in my AP US History class saying "No, wait, but in elementary school they told me that... wait, that's NOT what happened??!!"
The next trip was in 6th grade, still at Progressive Elementary. This time it was a week-long trip to Nova Scotia. 20 boys and girls, ages 11, with no parents, just teachers. How brave our teachers were! Some of them even camped. In tents! I'm stressed about going away for one night in a hotel. But of course, in 6th grade, it was amazing and most of the trip I still remember.
My last class trip was in 8th grade, at Girls Prep. This was before they started going to Washington D.C., but when we would go up to Quebec City. By bus. We were in French-Speaking-Canada with only half of us speaking French (and those who did, it was only 8th grade French). I remember walking around the city, walking in a mall, but mostly I remember the ridiculous games we played in our hotel room (the very fancy Le Chateau Frontenac). I really don't think we slept at all (I actually think we challenged ourselves not to). And, much to the chagrin of our French-Canadian Security Guard (who didn't specialize in interacting with Middle School girls), we had a hilarious, fabulous, amazing time with no sleep. That's what it will be like for the girls tomorrow (but add back the sleep please). They'll bond as a class and have great memories of running around New York City. I just hope they don't run too far or sleep too little or I won't make it to Friday.