A hot time in the old town

This past weekend, darling C., Nate and I headed to Chicago to meet my new niece Eleanor, see my family and catch up with my dear, dear, dear friend Nick, who was in town to give a job talk at a university that would be just plain SILLY not to hire him. I think the corny old phrase "to know him is to love him" was coined especially for Nick, who manages to get along with just about everyone, from PhD candidates to Mariah Carey fans and all who manage to exist in between these bizarre poles. He is truly my touchstone, and I would do just about anything, including braving the car with my car-hating baby and staying with my mom who drives me crazy, to see him. I seriously don't know what I'll do when he gets the job (because he will--you can't meet him and not want to do everything in your power to be around him all the time, even if you're on a stuffy hiring committee for an academic job) and moves to Chicago because then so many of the people we love will be living in one city without us! If we could just convince a few of our favorite Detroiters to pack up and move with us, we'd be living it up in Chicago in no time flat. Oh, I guess we'd need jobs, too. You certainly can't live on love alone.

The ride to Chicago was uneventful becasue we left at Clementine's bedtime, crossing our fingers she would sleep most of the way. She did, and Nate and I were both able to sit up front like grown-ups and listen to something other than the static station Clementine usually demands. Of course some evil troll was inside my iPod, making it impossible to return to the menu to select an artisit or playlist, so so we were stuck listening to the thing in alphabetical order by artist (AC/DC followed by Aimee Mann--what a mix!). It kind of sucked, but I'm willing to see the bright side--no one was in the back seat draped over C.'s carseat acting a fool to keep her happy, and we weren't shouting over white noise to be heard. It was a good omen for the trip, but understand there is an element of foreshadowing here--I might not make such a big deal of a good car ride if a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad one weren't in our future.

We got in late and took our now well-rested and wide awake baby up to Grammy's house, where she was innundated with lots of intense "I'm your Grammy! I love you! You know me! You love me!" from my mom, who is apparently afraid that the distance between our two houses will keep Clementine from knowing/liking her. Invariably, darling C. senses the tension, intensity and insanity of these desperate pleas and freaks out, making my mom even more convinced that C. doesn't know/like her. It's a vicious circle, and we all lose, especially Clementine who just wants to chill without all the pressure. We were eventually allowed to sleep, which did not go well because it was a strange place and Clementine had already had the world's longest nap, making her ready to play.

The next day, we started our day with my sweet little niece Eleanor. I remember when C. had visitors in her first few weeks, moms would always exclaim "Mine were never that little!" and I wondered how they could ever forget. Upon first holding Eleanor, I couldn't help but utter the exact same sentiment--she is so tiny! How was darling C. ever that small? Is it like the whole labor/delivery amnesia? Did I forget because those weeks were so traumatizing and sweet at the same time? I dunno, but Nora, as she is called, is one good looking little girl. She's also a dream baby who slept almost the whole time she wasn't clamped to my sister's boob.

We left their house to get Nick and have deep fried hamburgers at Hackney's, a family tradition we had to get him in on because he and I did most of our bonding over blue cheese and bacon burgers at an Ithaca sport's bar we would normally never enter were it not for the food. My sister brought her brood to meet us, and for the first time in my life I was sitting AT the table with two high chairs and a booster seat instead of glaring at it. Yes, we were treating the place like Chuck E. Cheese's, and no, I don't understand how tables with kids always leave wet clumps of paper scraps under the table. There were tons under ours after the meal, and I can't figure out how it happened. Another mystery of parenting. After eating, there must always be shopping, so we headed downtown to what is now my most favorite of haunts, Psycho Baby. Apparently convinced I am rich, I bought some great stuff for Clementine including some skull booties and a little deer dress. Pics forthcoming! I also got this fantastic book called That's Disgusting, which is truly disgusting for a kid's book. I can't wait to read it to her.

We headed back out to the burbs to my sis's place for pizza, cake and much baby fondling until it was time to go to bed. We got up the next day to say our goodbyes and make a quick trip to the Land of Nod's wonderful little outlet, which is FULL of incredible deals. I could never afford to shop at the real store, but I always manage to find cool toys and books at the outlet, and it's even cheaper than the website. God, I sound like a commercial for a weekend getaway. I swear I don't always shop this much! It's as much necessity as pleasure, as ugliness can easily arise between me andmy mom when there aren't structured activities.

Pockets emptied, family visited, we decided stupidly to head home in the middle of the day. I thought we were timing it for one of darling C.'s naps, but I was so sadly mistaken. She totally lost her marbles more than once, and although we tried hard to power through it, we had to stop at a few not-so-great roadside spots to let her out (sounds like a pet) and calm her down. It was a greuling trip home, and we will never make that mistake again. And by again, I mean next weekend. Yup, it's a do-over because we couldn't fit everything in the first time.

I have a gazillion great pictures, which I will resize and post later. For now, I have to get back to the worst work day I've had in a long time, and then go home to look at my daughter, who will already be asleep.