The Babymoon and the Storm.

So this whole weekend was a whirlwind of emotions.

First I was like:
Then I was like:
Then I was like:

Then I was like:

And then I ended the weekend with being like:
That’s right, folks.  I started out this weekend as a puppy, turned into a different breed of dog, then into a cat, then into ANOTHER cat, then back into myself.

But seriously.  This was my VERY FIRST day away from Little S.  I have been with him day and night, every single day for the past 17 months of his life (which is his entire life).  Then I decided Big S and I needed a night to ourselves before Baby B is born.  One last trip before we add another baby to our family.  A babymoon.  And what did we decide to do for our babymoon?

Run a 5k.
Run a 5k being chased by zombies.
Run a 5k being chased by zombies when I’m 21 weeks pregnant.

So we prepared.  I packed 4 outfits, PJs, way more food than Little S could ever eat, blankets, stuffed animals, books, wrote out his schedule and personal preferences for his gramma and grandpa and took him over to spend his first night (a whole 24 hours) away from me.
And gave Little S a kiss (or 14) and left him.
And drove to a far away place called Maryland.
Where the air is smoggy and the people are sketchy.  It’s beautiful, really.

So after an hour long detour on back roads due to an ill-informed GPS, we were finally on our way.  Beach boys playing. Then I found the Radio Disney XM station.  Which was awesome for me.  Very sad for Big S.
But we finally made it.  We checked out the race site, then headed to Tidewater Grille for dinner.  Which was delicious, which in turn, made me into the cheesing dog.
Then I turned into grumpy cat.
A very grumpy cat.
Because the race was cancelled due to something called “inclement weather” or “an impending hurricane.”.  I call it, “Everyone is a poop head.”
And I pouted about it for about…7 minutes.
Then I was like “AHA!”.  And came up with a plan.
I said to Big S: Hey, you know what’s scarier than zombies?
Big S: What?
Me: Baltimore.
Big S: What?
Me: Baltimore. Like, we could go to Baltimore and run our 5k. Instead of running from people DRESSED as zombies, let’s run from real life murderers and sketchy mc-goos. It’ll be like the zombie run, except our lives will actually feel like they’re really in danger.
Big S: Uh….or we could go to the aquarium.
Me: Nah.
Big S: SIGH. Fine.
So off we went to Baltimore.
And we ran.
3.25 miles.
And Big S held his keys in his hand like he was ready to legitimately stab someone if he had to.
This is pre-run:

This is at about 2.75 miles:

And this is at the end! Excuse my makeup-less face. Please don’t barf.

Then I ate a bagel.

And some yogurt.

And then we got coffee and they spelled Big S’s name wrong.

 Then we went home.  And I cuddled with Little S all afternoon.  And he followed me around like a little puppy.  And helped me unfold all the laundry I spent folding.  And made me read Wacky Wild Peek-A-Boo 14 times.  And then ate half my cupcake.  And I was okay with it.
It was weird.  Usually that stuff makes me want to hide in my room for a few seconds and enjoy some chocolate in peace.  But I found that 24 hours without him made me appreciate him so much more.
And it made me appreciate Big S so much more.  Especially when he went to the grocery store for me when he got home.  And actually ENJOYED the dinner I made him (That’s right. I actually COOKED!) Here’s the proof:

AND THEN he went and got cupcakes for us. FOR FREE. Because apparently they were just going to throw them all away if no one took them, which is insanity.  I was like, why yes, I would like 12 free cupcakes to eat all in one sitting please.
Then I made cake batter truffles.  Because there’s a hurricane coming.  And I don’t want to not be prepared for the devastation.  So we need truffles.  Which are amazing.  If you’ve never had truffles, they’re like, magical chocolate-covered, sadness-curing balls of deliciousness.  My sister constantly keeps them on hand in case of “emergencies”.  Well, every single day is an emergency when you’re pregnant.  So I guess I should make 2,000 truffles and hope they last me til March.  And probably after, because I’m pretty sure the first few months after Baby B is born is going to be a blur.  A blur that’s measured in sympathy truffles and baby screams.

Ah, I’m actually quite refreshed and excited for that blur now that we had our Babymoon.
Bring it on, Hurricane Sandy.  I’ve got a dozen cupcakes and cake batter truffles.  You got nothing on me.


5,651 Responses to “The Babymoon and the Storm.”

  1. Joyce | October 31, 2012 at 2:03 am #

    Hope you stayed safe. Sounds like a great babymoon!