Life in the Pitts

I turned 30

2015-04-03T13:00:00.000-04:00

I was born in 1985. I always liked that, it made calculating my age seem way easier, since I can just count by 5's.

And last month? I turned six 5's old.

I think the hardest part about turning 30 is reconciling where my life is with where I imagined it would be. Expectations are such a crapshoot for me.

(I actually don't understand that saying at all, but crapshoot sounds like shit hitting the fan, so I'm using it literally here.)

I thought I'd have a couple more kids by now.

I thought I'd be about 30lbs lighter.

I thought I'd be more confident. More sure of myself.

I thought I'd have travelled more.

I thought I'd be stronger spiritually.

I thought I'd be more accomplished In my writing, or my dancing, or my.....anything.

I thought I would have lived more. Had more adventures. Appreciated the small moments.

And I fell short, on all of it.

I'm not saying that my life isn't in a good place, and I wouldn't change a single thing that would lead to not having either of these two wonderful babies.

But not meeting those expectations? That was hard.

Kurt asked me if I wanted to celebrate the last few hours of my 20s with a cool countdown.

"No. This is a time for mourning."

He accused me of dramatics, and I reminded him of his week long battle with sorrow at the death of his youth 3 years ago.

Turning 30 is no joke.

The next day was a party. And I'm good now. Once I was done mourning my youth, I jumped right into enjoying my middle age.

30 has been pretty great so far. I have a few more gray hairs and wrinkles than I did two days ago, but that is respectable in a lady my age.

When you turned 30, how did you handle it?

I find her sense of style intimidating

2015-03-31T14:00:00.000-04:00

Taking her babies for a walk

Right before this, she was wearing pants and had bare feet. I ran over to wrestle some shoes away from Leo's mouth, and not even two minutes later she walked by like this.

I find her sense of style intimidating. #dontjudgemebymyyogapants

Book worming it

2015-03-29T11:00:00.000-04:00

Syndil slept in a little, and then when she woke up she quietly got a book, and took it to bed to read.

Then she went and got another one, and another one.

She read in bed for an hour and a half before deciding she was ready to come downstairs and see us.

It was wonderful.

I turned around, and she was gone.

2015-03-26T13:00:00.000-04:00

Syndil did great at Target. We talked about how she didn't have to go in the cart, so long as she listened and stayed close. And she did. She did great.

When we were finished, we ate some lunch in the little food court. Basically just Starbucks. She wanted chocolate milk.

Leo had been riding in the front of the cart, and I had his carseat stashed in the back. After nursing him, I put his carseat on the table, and strapped him in.

"Ok Syndil, stand right here and touch this chair. I'm putting Leo's carseat in the back of the cart."

"Ok mama!"

I plopped him in, turned around, and she was gone.

I ran around the cart, looked under the table. She was gone. Gone. In 3 seconds. I yelled "Watch him!" to the barista, and took off.

She wasn't by the cash register. She wasn't in the dollar section. I spun around desperately, and caught the flash of a little silver skirt running towards the parking lot.

I caught her. She was giggling. I was shaking with fury. I carried her inside like a sack of potatoes, not gently. We grabbed Leo, and left. I was planning the spanking of a lifetime.

I snapped Leo's carseat in the car, and then walked to the trunk where I had perched her, "Don't fall," before stomping over to put the groceries in the passenger seat.

"Let's talk."

I explained that her running away made me scared. So scared. And she could have been hurt, or lost, and I couldn't find her. Then I started crying.

"Oh no, mama sad!!"

"Yes. I'm sad that you ran away. I'm sad and I'm scared."

"Is ok. Dada come, and pick you up, and kiss you. Ok?"

"How about you kiss me."

She hugged me hard.

"I sorry."

And we came home. And she is napping. And I just can't do this. This parenting thing? It is too much. The highs are too high, the lows are too low, and nothing is safe.

Another near miss.

2015-03-24T17:05:00.001-04:00

Just got home from the ER.

I was carrying Leo down the stairs on my hip, and my foot just slipped out from under me. I hit hard, and he flew out of my hands, slammed face first into the wall around waist high on the landing, hit the ground, and then bounced down the bottom 4 stairs.

I can't even tell you, guys.

My hand wasn't working, but I managed to pick him up. He didn't black out, cried for maybe 2 minutes, and then was perfectly fine and wanted to crawl around.

I was on the phone with his pediatritian's office within a minute, asking what I should look for for a concussion, but they said that I had to take him to the ER. This little, you don't want to wait for symptoms of a concussion.

I explained that I am watching a friend's 2 year old while her newborn is at the ER right now with a fever, and I had Syndil, and not enough carseats. He said "Ma'am, I would never suggest this. And I don't want to scare you. But this one time, put one of the toddlers in the car in the adult seatbelt, and drive carefully. It is that serious."

So...I didn't do that. But it put it into perspective. A friend rushed over to watch the girls, and I took Leo to the ER.

Anyway, he is fine. But the image of him hitting the wall, falling, and bouncing down the stairs will not leave my head. The what-ifs are haunting me.

my fingers are buried in a mountain of diappointing chocolate crumbs

2015-03-17T01:34:00.000-04:00

I made 2 dozen cookies. But then I tried one, and they taste gross.

So I got my chocolate chips back. #noshame

The poop whisperer

2015-03-15T11:00:00.000-04:00

"Where is Dada go, Mama?"

"Dada? He went to work."

"Ohhh, Dada big poop."

".....Poop?"

"Yeah, Dada is poop on his office."

I sent a text about her theory.

"Yup, she called it."

She just knows, guys.

My ever loving hat

2015-03-12T00:33:00.000-04:00

Guys, what am I going to do when it is warm out, and I can't get away with just wearing this hat every single day?? #noshowernoproblem

Sometimes I think Motherhood is nothing more than a million near misses.

2015-03-10T11:00:00.000-04:00

She fell behind the ball pit at her gymnastics class, and her head got caught/wedged between it and the wall, while her body swung free.

She was dangling by her head/neck for about 4 seconds. Maybe 6? Probably 4.

Another mom got to her first, and was able to pick her up by her body and slide her free.

She was screaming from the second she slipped, probably out of fear, and had sunk her teeth pretty badly into her lower lip. But after a few minutes of cuddling, was trying to convince me to let her go play more.

Ha.

This was insanely terrifying.

She is fine. She had x rays, and everything is ok. The whole way to the hospital I was thinking "internal decapitation" and "second injury paralysis" (my term for when a kid gets a neck injury at the park, but seems totally ok, but 10 minutes later falls off the swing, and is paralyzed).

And the image of her body swinging by her neck WONT.GET.OUT.OF.MY.HEAD.

But, she is fine. Totally fine. Maybe some muscle trauma, but probably not much because her body weighs, like, nothing.

They took the neck brace off after a few hours ("No like this scarf!"), after they checked and rechecked her scan, just to be sure. No damage. Except to my sanity.

But really, she is fine. She is ok. I have to keep saying it, you know? So I can start to believe it.....

Dodging kisses

2015-03-08T12:29:00.001-04:00

I stretched up to kiss Kurt's cheek, but he shied away nervously.

"I'm sorry" he responded to my questioning look. "I'm feeling protective about that side of my face."

Then he walked away.

Thanks, baby girl. You just saved your brother's life.

2015-03-02T21:27:00.002-05:00

Sometimes hearing "No, Leo! No have it! That's mine!" gets old. I hear versions of this all day long.

But a few minutes ago, those words saved Leo's life.

Syndil ran over, and snatched her snack cup away from Leo's little fingers. I ran over too, and fished a rock-hard oatmeal square out of his mouth.

A few seconds later, and he would have been silently choking while I was scraping a plate not even 10 feet away.

I think I aged about 12 years in that one moment.

Sometimes I think Motherhood is nothing more than a million near misses.

Have you ever been there?

Our afternoon at Trader Joe's

2015-02-11T12:06:00.001-05:00

I go in with this vague idea of things I liked last time, and a firm idea of where the sample table is.

There are only 5 aisles, but I still only find half of what I'm looking for, and I spend the rest of the time wandering in a daze.

"Chocolate dipped potato chips...Mochi...What is this yellow tube of cornmeal? Polenta? I'm buying it...."

I get home with a bag full of things that I have to look up on the internet. And all of it is delicious.

What do you like to buy there?

A little rock

2015-01-15T20:29:00.000-05:00

"Here mama, little rock!" I looked down at her excited face, and reached out my hand. She beamed up at me. "Mama, in pocket?"

A minute later, I crouched down to whisper in her ear. "Look, Syndil! A deer."

We watched the majestic doe as she wandered across our path, not even 15 feet away. Deer are common around here, but we have never been this close.

She stopped to consider us, then almost shrugged as she kept going.

After a few minutes, we continued our stroll. I noticed that this was a frequent deer hangout. There were quite a few patches of old deer pellets that we had to step over.

Then it hit me. "Oh, man..."

I reached in my pocket, and found Syndil's "rock."

The end.

My own personal cheering section

2014-09-23T12:01:00.002-04:00

Syndil's fist 4 word sentence!!

"You did it, Mama!" she cheered, clapping her hands and jumping up in down.

....In the busy Target bathroom.

Somebody give me an M&M.

Have you ever felt like you were witnessing a train wreck? But simultaneously, you ARE the train wreck? This was kind of like that.

2014-07-29T22:43:00.003-04:00

Today I was pumping gas.

Syndil was grumpy, so I was crouching down and running around the car, popping up in different places to keep her entertained. You know, making faces and stuff.

A woman was walking past, and stopped to see who I was playing with.

"Aw, look at her! Hi cutie! How old is she?"

"She is 2, and he is 8 weeks"

"There are two of them!! Wow, and look at you, pregnant with another one!"

"........."

"Wait, did you say 8 weeks? That is so.....fast.....oh. You aren't pregnant, are you?"

I was speechless.

"Well. Sorry. I just thought..." She gestured to my tummy. Then she shook her head. "Never mind."

And she walked away.

Birth Story

2014-06-20T08:44:00.000-04:00

(To write this post, I took the timeline that I posted on my personal facebook page (in bold), and added a few memorable conversations from that night)

At 12:30am I started having contractions. They were 7 minutes apart.

"Honey, this could be the real thing!! We might be having a baby tomorrow! If the contractions don't stop."

At 1am (30 minutes later) they were 5 minutes apart and I couldn't talk through them. I hopped in the shower, but they only got more intense.

"...Or I could be having the baby in this shower."

At 1:20am our friend/sitter arrived to watch Syndil as she slept. She was certain we wouldn't make it, and called 911 in case we had to stop on the way.

"Um, hi. My friend is in labor, and driving to the hospital, but I don't think she is going to make it. If you see a car parked on 270 between here and the hospital, stop to help her deliver the baby!!"

At 1:30am my contractions were less than a minute apart as we drove over 85mph to the hospital. I was trying desperately not to push.

"I'm sorry, we are on divert. You will have to go to the nearest hospital."
"Um, you ARE the nearest hospital, we are 3 blocks away! And she is pushing!!"
"I'm sorry sir..."
"I can't hear you! She is screaming too loud! We will be there in 3 minutes!!!"

At 1:45am a team of doctors was running through the halls as fast as they could go yelling "Don't push!!" I was screaming in the wheelchair, because how was I supposed to stop? My body had taken over, and was pushing by itself.

At 1:50am they put me on a bed, and I was dilated to a 10. Three seconds later he was crowning.

"She is at a ten!" the doctor yelled.
"Ok, try not to push-"
I screamed, and shook my head. "Too late, he is coming NOW!"
He looked down, surprised. "He is crowning!"
The 15 doctors and nurses in the room froze for a second, then frantically started running around.
"I can't get the IV in!!"
"Where is the pediatrician?? She is GBS positive!!"
"Get her feet in the stirrups!"
Kurt ran into the room. He had to park the car before running up, and almost missed the birth.
"I thought, oh gosh, this is her worst nightmare. She is on her back, her feet are in stirrups, and there are over a dozen people in here. And her Doula was still in the parking garage!"
4 pushes was all it took.

At 2am our little guy came flying into the world.

What a wild ride

Once it was all done, I looked back over the past 2 hours and thought "No way did that just happen."

With Syndil, I was in labor for 28 hours, so I did NOT expect this!!

I was 40 weeks, 5 days, with an induction scheduled for Monday. Ha.

We are so excited that he is here, and he is healthy. And that we didn't have him on the side of the road. It was so close. If there had been any traffic, we wouldn't have made it. And living right outside of DC, at any other time there would have been traffic!

I tore pretty badly. With Syndil, they did an episiotomy. With Leo, I tore through that, and way further.

After an hour of skin to skin and nursing (while trying to ignore the team of doctors huddled between my legs) they told me there wasn't enough light, and I'd have to go to the OR for repairs.

Kurt got to do a little kangaroo bonding time with Leo while I was gone. It's our tradition. He also hung out with the Doula, who had arrived about 5 minutes too late.

Those repairs. Sigh.

I didn't want a spinal, and I had eaten too recently anyway. My anesthesiologist opted to do a light sedation, with lots of lidocaine injections. I have never been so high :) He and the nurse kept me entertained, while monitoring my pain level. I can't remember a lot of our conversation, but I do remember laughing a lot.

Afterwards, my nurse was in raptures.

"It was just amazing. I am so glad I got to see that. The repairs they did, it was like a work of art."

"Oh...good..."

When the main doctor came in to discuss my repairs (and go over the possible need for additional surgeries in the next few months), the nurse told him he had created a masterpiece.

"Well, I don't know about that. But I will say, it was like a jigsaw puzzle. It took three of us to figure out what went where."

Um, what...?

Kurt looked just as confused as I did. How many pieces were we talking about here?

The things you never expect people to say about your vagina.

The rest of the stay was a blur. It didn't fly by or anything, I was just on a lot of pain meds, and some narcotics. But man, I loved that place.

Syndil wasn't too sure about Leo. When she visited in the hospital, she had no interest in touching the baby. But now that he is almost 3 weeks old, she loves the little guy.

And I do, too.

He is here

2014-06-11T08:44:00.000-04:00

Leo Oliver
Born 8lbs 14oz,
21 and a half inches long

I am so in love.

Birth story tomorrow.

Would you ever eat your placenta?

2014-05-13T19:19:00.000-04:00

Not going to lie, people. It grosses me out- a LOT. But...I might do it anyway. In pill form- not with a chisel from my freezer. I need to draw the line somewhere.

But why draw it here? Why not on the other, more normal side of this issue? Good question. And I'm not sure of my answer. I'm feeling very conflicted.

A large part of me (most of me) thinks this is the stuff of nightmares.

So why even consider this?? Well, there is a big history of both post partum and clinical depression in my family, and I need to be closely monitored post partum (by choice).

The tricky thing about depression is, when you are depressed, sometimes you can't see how bad it is until you are looking back- when the view is terrifying, because you can see just how close you were standing to a dangerous ledge, and how tempted you were to just step off.

So, even though I may think I'm fine in the moment- I could be wrong. And the hormones in the placenta are supposed to be tailor-made for your post partum needs. Which, that makes sense, since your body made them (ew).

I actually had no ppd issues with Syndil. But my mother's battle started with her second kid- me.

So, there is that.

Other reasons I'm considering this:

It's, um, healthy and stuff? Ok, I haven't really looked into other benefits. The depression one- that's the main reason for me.

But I really don't know if I can hack it. Without hacking it (ha. sorry.)

Could you do it? Have you done it?

HAVE YOU PREPARED IT YOURSELF???

Honestly, I can't cut raw chicken without gagging- it just feels too much like what I imagine human flesh would feel like. So to actually prepare human flesh...?

Blahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

But, you know, kudos to those of you who can do it. Also, to those of you who can touch raw chicken. Neither of these things is easy.

So, what does it come down to?

My stomach and mind rebel at the idea of eating a part of my body. If my arm was stuck in a trap and I was going to have to chew it off, fox-style? I would probably just die instead.

But, PPD is no joke. And this could help.

Thoughts?

Being THAT pregnant.

2014-04-23T09:09:00.000-04:00

This is just as comfortable as it looks. Anybody want to take over for a few days, so my back can get a break? ;)

I'm just sitting here, waiting for Syndil to wake up from her nap, and thinking about being this pregnant. So many things I didn't remember.

The way my feet spread/grow under the pressure.

Hitting things with my belly when I turn around (mostly Syndil, haha. Poor girl gets knocked over by her brother at least twice each day).

The terrified looks people give me when they see me coming.

The awkward comments they make because they have no idea what to say, but feel compelled to say something.

The killer leg cramps that wake me from a dead sleep.

The fact that only 3 shirts even fit anymore, and those probably have stains on them that I can't see, because my boobs and belly are in the way.

The fact that I'm ok with that.

The way people talk about rather intimate parts of my body- even people I don't know. I'm not embarrassed about my cervix, but I don't usually volunteer details about my lady parts in the check out line.

The way women ask me about my birth plan, and then tell me I'm doing it wrong. Too natural, and I must be holier-than-thou, and looking for a medal. Not natural enough, and don't I care about my baby?

Getting stuck in bed, and needing a push to get out 6-8x per night, so I can pee.

Applying a new layer of deodorant 3+ times each day.

The way people hold open doors and offer to help. Appreciating that, even though I really could do it all myself.

Wanting him to come as soon as he can, because I can't wait to meet him.

Wanting him to wait another 3 months, because I'm not ready.

The weird looks I get when he starts dancing in there, and my belly starts to move.

The REALLY weird looks when that happens, and I'm next to a teenager.

Feeling so special.

Feeling so frumpy.

Feeling so, so ready to have my body back.

5 more weeks.

Turd is just SUCH a great nickname.

2014-04-14T10:20:00.000-04:00

Syndil stared hard at her dad, and whispered "Turd."

A little smile crept onto her face.

"Turd turd turd turd..."

She has been listening a little more than I expected at a year and a half old, and sometimes she picks up a new word in the middle of my conversation. Like this one.

Can you guess what she is trying to say?

"Kurt"

This is as close as she gets. It's actually a pretty good toddler version.

Do you guys let your kids use your first names? Or are you more of a "mom and dad only, please" kind of family? We are definitely the latter, I very much prefer to be called mama. And I'm pretty sure Turd likes to be called Dada.

So, I should try and stop her.Or at least try to smother my laughter, yes? But... It's just such a great nickname.

I keep thinking that this? Is not something my in laws anticipated.

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Do the names you love lend themselves to any unfortunate nicknames? I'd love to hear. Especially the unexpected ones.

Well, 'uck.

2014-04-10T09:58:00.000-04:00

Syndil spend 20 minutes happily chanting "Uck 'uck 'uck!" in a disgusted voice the other day, after we were almost hit by a car on our walk.

*facepalm*

Have your kids ever learned a naughty word or phrase that you swear you only said around them once??

This whole pregnancy thing just isn't as...monumental? As last time.

2014-04-07T11:50:00.002-04:00

Thank you for your support the other day, with I miss the memories I don't have. Losing my mom ten years ago- it's scabbed over, you know? Not so much of an open wound. It mostly just itches. But April second just makes everything a little more raw.

Your comments and thoughts are very appreciated.

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We haven't been as good at taking pictures this time around. Heck, the whole pregnancy thing just isn't as...monumental? As last time. With Syndil, I had 3 pregnancy apps, and could tell you the week she developed eyelashes. This time, I have to guess which week I'm in when people ask (33, as of today- I just checked).

Anybody else experience this?

Last time I'd had 3 photoshoots by professionals by the time I was this far along. All were done by talented friends,and didn't actually cost me anything, but even if I'd had to pay I would have because I was so darn excited, and wanted to document everything.

This time around, I live far from those friends. So it's mostly up to Kurt (or my 30 second timer) to take pictures. I have some exciting ideas for photo shoots, but they just feel like so much work! Kurt is rarely home, and when he is, I mostly just pawn our daughter off and take a nap.

But, the other day, he took the camera into his own hands, and snapped a few while we were playing. And, I'm pretty sure my well-thought-out photo shoots aren't going to be nearly as pretty as this candid. It's a bit blurry (most pictures of Syndil are, these days), but I still love it.

I have a weakness for backlighting. And do you see her fingers?? I'm in love.

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On a related note, do you guys have any tips for using Photoshop Elements? I just realized that my Bamboo drawing tablet came with it, and I'm pretty excited- but I have no idea how to use it. I opened it to edit this picture, and closed it again 2 minutes later because it's like they are trying to be as cryptic as possible. All those symbols, and no description when you hover over them? Obviously, it was not made for a person like me. Picmonkey is more my comfort zone. Any tips on where to find some good tutorials?

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And if any of you blog about your children, and are looking for a place to link up some of your best posts, I found a great little link up. It's at Perfection Pending, called Manic Mondays. It starts Mondays, but goes all week (this week's link up is here). Enjoy!

I miss the memories I don't have.

2014-04-02T14:51:00.003-04:00

10 years is such a long time. Sometimes it seems like forever.

I can't remember the way she smelled. I can't really remember her voice. Her image is a little blurry, like I've been staring into the sun, and now my eyes are having a hard time focusing on details.

I remember her movement. Nervous, but graceful. How she would hitch up her pants when they started sliding down on her hips. How she would tilt her head and shrug. How her feet were permanently turned out when she walked, after decades of dancing. The way she would blink when you drew her attention back outside of herself, and whatever she had been pondering. The slightly distracted, welcoming smile when you barged into her room (if the door was open. You knocked if it was closed), and how she would set down her scriptures so she could really focus on you. She was a great listener. She was a great conversationalist.

The nervous way her voice changed when she was talking on the phone, or really anytime she was feeling uncomfortable. Her laugh would get higher, more forced. It wasn't that she didn't think something was funny, she just wasn't in her element.

The way she would grimace whenever she caught sight of herself in the mirror. A former dancer, she didn't have patience for aging, or for her body 5 kids later. If she saw me now, would she be disappointed? I don't think so. But I am the same size she was when she thought she looked ugly. Yet I know she would tell me I look beautiful, and mean it. Why couldn't she say the same for herself?

The family dinners. She cooked every night, and we all gathered around the table. The laughter and conversation that flowed- that is one of my favorite things about growing up in our family. We all connected over dinner. Now that I'm in charge of cooking, I can't imagine how she did it over and over, every single night. Even there she was shy sometimes. But every once in a while, she would chime in with a sarcastic quip that would have us all rolling on the floor with laughter- literally.

One time she threw a roll at my dads head. We were all shocked. It was possibly the most unexpected, hilarious moment of my childhood.

She couldn't sing. Literally could not carry a tune. She was self conscious about it, and barely whispered in church during the hymns. But she really loved to sing, and always wished she could be in a choir. If life was fair, she would have been born with the voice that matched her love of music. Instead she just listened. But with her children? She sang. Our whole childhood she sang. She made us each a song when we were born, and sang it to us every night until we were too big to stop asking.

Man, she loved us kids. We were her world. We were her best friends. Her proudest moments. When I was in a play (just a minor role with 3 lines) she bought tickets to every show. The lead came up to me after, and commented on how it wasn't fair that my bouquet was so much bigger than his. It didn't matter that we were poor, or that it was the 4th time she had seen it that weekend. She was so proud, she couldn't keep it in.

When my little brother was in soccer (ages 3-9), you'd have thought he was the star player from the way his fan section cheered him on. It didn't matter that he scored 3 goals in all those years. She was just so proud.

I wish my memories didn't stop back then. I wish I could be thinking about that time she visited me in college, and we sat up all night talking about a guy I was dating. I wish we could have done a girls weekend trip someplace, just her and her girls. Maybe Vegas? She would have loved to see a show. I wish I could think back on her face when I was trying on wedding dresses. She would have loved every single one, even the ones that looked bad. We would have laughed and laughed. She would have stayed up all night planning with me, and then called the caterer, reception hall, everything for me (with her awkward, forced phone voice), just because I was nervous about doing it. I wish I could remember her on my wedding day. I felt her presence, but there is no image to go with that.

I wish I could think back to Syndil's birth, and see her there. She would have been on that red eye flight with Amber, and they would both have been at my side when Syndil tore her way into this world. I wish I could think about the dozens of trips she has made out to visit us, to see her first daughter's first daughter.

I wish I had these memories.

Ten years is such a long time. She has missed so much.

Life is so much nicer when we are fighting.

2014-03-30T12:02:00.000-04:00

When Kurt gets mad, he stays up all night cleaning.

When I get mad, I stop cleaning indefinitely.

In this way, we are very compatible.

Nap schedule changes need to be submitted 12 hours in advance.

2014-03-28T15:46:00.001-04:00

I ran away to the post office today.

After a few hours of not-napping in her crib, Syndil was just too much for me to handle.

I was trying to figure out what to do. Leave her in there for 2 more hours? Give in, and deal with a super cranky toddler for the rest of the day? Run away?

I chose option #3.

I took her with me, mostly because I was craving those amazing harmonies she produces while screaming along to the radio.

A tired toddler's scream is just so soothing in an enclosed space.

And tonight, when Kurt gets home? I am going to smile, hand him his daughter, and hit the road. I'm not sure where I'll go, but I will go alone. And I will probably spend money. And pee without her sitting on my lap in the stall.

Anybody else need a break?