The Rice Family: The Middle Years
A few months ago I wrote a post about the early years of Brush Ranch and how my grandparents met and their love story. Well, it’s time for round two, a time period I’ve so cleverly named “The Middle Years.” If someone can come up with a better name, you’ll win a prize!
Today is my parent’s 38th wedding anniversary, so I thought it would be appropriate to tell their love story and share a bit of their history.
My mom grew up in the panhandle of Texas, in a small town called Quanah. She was one of 5, three girls and two boys. Her father (my grandfather Bill) ran a John Deere store and sold farm equipment to all the farmers in the area. Her mom, Betty, had her hands nice and full raising 5 kids!
My dad was born in Oklahoma and lived in Borger, Texas until he was about 6, when his family moved up the Pecos Canyon. Ironically, Borger is only about 160 miles from where my mom was growing up at the same time. After attending high school at a boarding school in Colorado Springs, my dad returned to New Mexico and studied a few years at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque.
In the early 70s, my grandparents started the Brush Ranch School as a way to utilize the Brush Ranch property all year around. The school was a boarding school for children with learning differences. At the time, my dad was working for his parents at the Ranch and my mom had just earned a degree in special education from the University of Texas. Scotty interviewed Kay and told his dad to hire her. Was it love at first sight?!
Mom and dad fell in love on the banks of the Pecos River…or, in reality, probably sneaking around in the dark trying not to get caught by anyone–you see, it was somewhat against the rules to be dating an employee…dad! My mom was living in cabin #2, a tiny little cabin that had one bedroom (hers), a bathroom and another room dedicated solely to typing, it was “the typing room.” It was near the dining hall and kitchen and my dad said the only person who knew he and my mom were together was the cook, because he’d show up super early in the morning for a cup of coffee before returning to his cabin to get ready for the day. The sneaking ended, and they were married June 5, 1976 in the First Presbyterian Church in Quanah.
Mom and dad on their wedding day. It’s CRAZY how much my dad looks like my youngest brother in this photo!
My grandmother, Betty, with my mom on her wedding day.
I had to throw in this pic of my mom and me on my wedding day…just for comparison sake. (Photo courtesy Kip Malone)
From left to right: Bill, Betty, mom, dad, Kitty, Newcomb.
And again, for comparison, from left to right: my mom, Patrick, me, dad, and Betty (mom’s mom), on our wedding day. (Photo courtesy Kip Malone)
The stories of their wedding are pretty fantastic. I think my favorite is the story of my dad and his side of the wedding party actually getting to Quanah. They took the Brush Ranch School bus, complete with driver and headed to Quanah. They took out several of the seats and installed a keg and a poker table, so they wouldn’t have to stop! I would guess they all came rolling out of that bus stinking of booze and god knows what else. It’s a wonder they made it at all!
After they got married, they moved into cabin #4, down by the river, later known as the nurse’s cabin. They lived there for several years and in 1979 completed construction of the house I grew up in. My parents had several friends who were contractors and the building of that house was a true group effort by many kind hands. It was a great house, made of actual adobe bricks (unlike many of the pueblo style houses that are build today that are just frame with stucco).
My older brother was born in 1980, and somewhere between him being born and me showing up, my mom obtained a master’s degree from UNM in special education. I made my grand entry in 1983…surprise!! (I later found out that I was the “mistake” child…but that I’m loved no less because I wasn’t planned. Clearly, I’m the best child. Ha.) Our youngest brother was born in 1988 and was actually the first of 4 cousins born that year on my mom’s side of the family. They are still referred to as “the 88’s,” which quickly turned to, “the idiots.”
But I digress…My parents took over full time operations of the Brush Ranch Camps, and focused completely on that in the mid to late 80’s, losing all affiliation with the Brush Ranch School. They were very involved in the American Camp Association (My mom was on the board and as such was invited to visit camps in Russia and I went too! That’s a story for another day), and the Western Association of Independent Camps. They added many programs to expand the camp including Family Camp, which was so much fun for all of us; Adventure Camp, where older campers spent longer times out in the wilderness, hiking, biking, rafting, or horse back riding; and Trailblazers, a one week camp session for kids starting as early as 6 years old. They were extremely good at honoring long standing traditions, like the Devotional services every Sunday morning, while at the same time making sure that camp was all inclusive and that it grew and changed with the country’s trends and the demands of the market. They ran the camp until its close, after the summer of 2004.
My parents worked extremely hard, especially in the summers. Some days they would be at the camp for 17 or 18 hours. But their hard work paid off in the legacy that they left and that Brush Ranch left, this blog has showed me that! So many lives were touched by Brush Ranch, and I can’t help but think that so much of its success is a direct result of the love that my parents have for each other (remember, this is a post about their 38th wedding anniversary!). They are an incredible team and still, to this day, can accomplish anything they put their collective minds to. They have most certainly been at each other’s sides in sickness and in health, in good times and bad (eek! and there have been some high highs and low lows!). They love each other unconditionally, support each other’s goals, respect each other, laugh and cry together, and they absolutely cherish each other.
I am honored to wish them this very public happy anniversary and can say, with confidence, that their love is an inspiration to me in my relationships (especially with Patrick), and I am so thankful that they are my parents. Happy 38th wedding anniversary, mom and dad, and here’s to many, many more!
This Week A Year Ago: The Tres Lagunas Fire
For some reason I have a bit of an obsession with thinking about where I was or what I was doing some period of time ago. For example, this time one week ago I was just returning from Philadelphia. This time 8 years ago, Patrick and I had just returned from a 9 week trip to Southeast Asia. Fascinating, I know. This obsession helps me remember some of little moments in my life, and certainly makes me think about some of the big moments in my life on a fairly regular basis.
So, this week, a year ago, the Tres Lagunas Fire started in the Pecos Canyon, just north of my parents house, and directly across the road from the piece of property my grandparents had a house on when I was growing up (Timberland). I remember quite well, it was the Thursday after Memorial Day and I was at my desk at work, slightly bored, and trolling the local news sites (I was a bit of a local news junkie, thankfully, I’m mostly over that). There was a story about one of the members of the board of the organization I was working for, and there was a very small story about a fire that had recently broken out in the Pecos Canyon. There had been fires before that had been fairly easily controlled, so I didn’t think too much of it but picked up the phone to call my mom to see if she’d heard any other details. She works at a school and their seniors were graduating that day and she was in charge of the graduation. I really didn’t expect her to pick up the phone, but when she did, there was a hint of panic in her voice. She had spoken with my dad, who was at home at the time the fire started and he urged her to get home right away. No one had any real details and I really believed at that time that they’d control it that afternoon or maybe by the next morning and everyone would go on their merry way. Boy was I wrong!
The fire spread very quickly and seemed to be growing in all directions. It began on the west side of Highway 63 at Timberland and jumped the road almost immediately, where it decimated the Timberland property. At the same time, it moved north and east, where it burned to the back of the Tres Lagunas property. Back on the east side of the road it ripped through the part of the forest where I spent my childhood skipping from our house to my grandparents. It burned all the way around the house I grew up in and to the back of the boys camp area. It topped the ridge behind the main Brush Ranch property and came over at the barn and burned up to the edge of the property on the east side all the way to behind the Lodge cabin. Meanwhile, on the north end of things, it burned up high behind Tres Lagunas and dipped down into the Holy Ghost Canyon, where it jumped from one side to the other. On the east side, it burned high up on the ridge and down into the Davis Willow area. There are some relatively good maps on this website. This was all over a period of about two weeks, but those first couple of days were the worst.
I was able to stay in decent contact with my mom for the rest of that afternoon but headed north to Santa Fe later that day. I had planned to take that Friday off of work anyway. I spent the next several days at Frankie’s, a local restaurant in Pecos, sharing information via social media and helping to coordinate efforts to collect and deliver supplies to the firemen.
My brother headed up the canyon to help my dad defend their property on Thursday afternoon, and by Friday “mandatory” evacuations were in effect. My dad and brother stayed to fight the fire along with several other long time residents and friends. I was able to get up the canyon to deliver supplies for the firefighters just as the evacuation orders were set into motion. I drove up the canyon with a carload of bottled water, sports drinks, batteries, sunscreen, chapstick, sandwiches, canned goods, and first aid equipment, all donated by very generous community members and organizations. I went alone, and it was the most eerie drive up the canyon I can remember. As I got farther and farther north, the smoke settled into the deeper parts of the canyon and created a strange orange glow. When I rounded the corner at Brush Ranch, the hillside was dotted with fireman carrying axes and chainsaws. They were clearing the hillside in hopes of stopping the spread of the fire to the south west.
Smoke settling into the canyon as I drove north to deliver supplies.
I pulled into the driveway at my parents and drove as fast as I could up to the house. No one was there, but the east border of their property was swarming with firefighters and I spotted my brother on one of the hoses behind the barn. The fire burned to within 20 feet of the barn, and within 50 feet of the house. Luckily, when it came over the ridge above them, it lost steam as it moved downhill and by the time it reached their property, it was mostly burning on the ground. Still, it destroyed lots of trees and there were several holes in the ground where trees once stood that had flames shooting out of them. The whole scene was bizarre. The air was so thick I could hardly breathe and I just remember my dad, looking so exhausted and desperate to save our little piece of heaven. His hair was disheveled, lips chapped, eyes bloodshot, clothes and face covered in ash and soot, and he was doing EVERYTHING in his power to keep the fire off of their property.
The fire burning on the ground about 50 feet from my parents house (that’s their house in the pic).
The fire burning directly behind the barn.
After making sure my dad, brother, and firefighters they were working with were all stocked up on supplies, I headed a bit further north to the Tererro General Store, where my best friend and her family were. They were well supplied and safe, so I headed on my way. I stopped at the volunteer fire department and dropped off a few more things with the help of my dad, who had a few choice words for the Forest Service staff who were onsite. My mom was loaded up and ready to evacuate with their dogs and we headed to Santa Fe, not knowing when we’d hear from my dad or brother.
The view of the fire from Tererro looking south.
We didn’t hear from them for almost 24 hours. The road was blocked, there was no electricity, and no phone service up the canyon. When we finally did receive word, it was good, the fire had mostly cleared the immediate area with no injuries or structures lost. We were so relieved!
This photo was taken just north of my parents property by a neighbor during evacuations.
Another photo taken during the evacuation from the road looking up the hillside.
The next few weeks are a bit of a blur (as I was mostly consumed by trying to keep my morning sickness a secret), but a few weeks after the fire, we went up the Canyon and my dad took me around the property on his four wheeler. It was heartbreaking to see the places where some of my best memories were formed completely destroyed. Gone were the willows by the stream that created tunnels and mazes, gone were the raspberry bushes behind the old house, gone were the moss gardens we’d build for the fairies to sleep on, gone were the many forts and hiding places we frequented.
It’s easy to see the fire as a negative thing, and the residents and habitat of the Pecos Canyon will be dealing with the aftermath of such devastation for a very long time, but I try to see it as a natural thing for the forest (even if the cause, a downed powerline, is far from natural). It will be forever changed, but from the ashes there is already new green growth and the forest will revive itself.
We were all so lucky that there were no injuries and no structures lost in the fire, and the men and women who worked so hard to protect private and public lands are in my thoughts this week. Their work has not been forgotten and I’m so grateful for all they did to save a place so sacred to me and many others.
This pic was taken a few weeks after the fire from the south east side of my parents house, you can see where the fire burned in the trees.
This pic was taken a few weeks after the fire, in a little gully to the south of my parents house. We’d build a fort with our niece and nephew two weekends before the fire started where the log spans the width of the gully.
Epic Weekend Part 3: The Trip Home
Sooo….where did we leave off? If you haven’t already, you’ll want to read the first post about our trip across the country, and the second post about our time in Philly… And now we have arrived at the part where I tell you about us getting home, again, flying across the country with our twinsies.
We arrived at the airport SUPER early, anticipating the same Memorial Day weekend crowds we’d run into at the Albuquerque airport 3 days before. There were no lines. There were no crowds. There were plenty of chairs, and space, and time, yay! We breezed through checkout and then through security. They closed the line behind us for some reason, and we were so glad. It’s super stressful getting through security with all the millions of things we had with some huffy puffy business man breathing down our necks to hurry up. (The huffy puffy business man thing didn’t actually happen, but I can imagine that an incident like that might raise our stress levels just a bit). And again, people with their twin stories started coming out of the woodwork. One of the TSA agents started asking me how old they were, when they were born, how long they were in the NICU…then she told me that she was a twin! They’re everywhere people, everywhere.
Once past security we were able to relax by the gate and feed the kiddos while a sweet little grandmother talked to us about her twin granddaughters she was going to visit in Las Vegas. We boarded the plan and were in the air, no problems! Yay!
God forbid I go any length of time without pumping, and, of course, I had to pump on the plane. I contemplated going into the bathroom and decided that was the worst idea ever. I opted to pump in my seat, and let me tell you, it was the best decision I ever made. I was a bit worried when a very large man sat in the aisle seat next to my mother in law (who was in the middle), but it turned out I don’t think he even noticed I was sitting in the window seat with baby and pump, and he certainly didn’t notice when I undid one side of my bra and attached all the business that goes along with pumping! The airplane noise was so loud that even I, sitting less than a foot away, couldn’t hear the pump! So, ladies,if you’re traveling and have to pump, don’t opt for the airport bathroom, just wait until you’re on the plane, grab a window seat, and go for it!
The view from my seat…completely obstructed by the breastpump. This is my life now.
The flight from Philly to Las Vegas is about four and a half hours and at hour three, I started to get pretty antsy pantsy. The kids did a little bit too, but all in all, they were great! We touched down in Vegas and deplaned into Sin City where the people watching couldn’t have been better (that’s me, finding the sliver lining…I’m not the biggest fan of Vegas). I mean, really…why, why, why would you want to take home the GIANT plastic cup that your hurricane drink came in? Are you really going to use it again? The kids weren’t terribly impressed by the folks wandering around, drinking their hangovers away, corona in hand, but they dealt pretty well. And, I finally got my decaf soy latte, and the airport coffee shop was much less crowded than the airport bar!
My little buddy, totally crashed out on the flight.
The little lady, totally crashed out on our flight.
We boarded the plan in Las Vegas after a 20 minute (or so) delay and one of the flight attendants started talking to us. Guess what? Yup…she had 11 month old boy twins! See what I’m saying…they’re EVERYWHERE!!
I honestly don’t really remember the flight to Albuquerque, that’s how boring it was, and in our lives, boring is good. We got our bags and went out into the lovely spring rain…headed home, put the kiddos to bed and CRASHED OUT! It was really a fantastic weekend and made me feel like we can do just about anything with our twins, well, anything that doesn’t require too much exact timing…it still takes us 45 minutes to get out of the house, on a good day.
I realize this is a VERY poor quality photo, but thought it was funny since it looks like we checked our kids and picked them up with our baggage. Of course, we didn’t.
Epic Weekend Part 2: Philadelphia
Did you guys know that Philadelphia is right across the Delaware river from New Jersey? I didn’t. Now I do. Not surprisingly, since clearly I’m not up on my East Coast geography, I was caught a bit off guard by all the New Jersey accents I ran into in Philadelphia this past weekend.
In case you missed my last post, we just returned from a cross country trip to attend the wedding of one of our best friends. Here’s the story of our time in Philly.
We checked into our fancy-schmancy hotel and went to work feeding the kiddos and getting them to bed. Since Neala still has pretty bad reflux, she needs to sleep almost upright and our only option was to have her sleep in her carseat. We made a nice little nest for her with blankets in the bottom and she actually loved it. Rylan slept in the crib the hotel provided and we were able to elevate his head a little bit by putting a pillow under the mattress on one side. Of course, by about 2:00 a.m. he wiggled his way down to the bottom of the crib and ended up flat on his back, perpendicular to how he had originally started out. Oh well, silly little squirmy worm.
Since our little ones were still on mountain time, we were able to sleep until almost 10 a.m.! (Also, where do hotels buy their blackout curtians…seems like hotel rooms can be the darkest places on earth if you draw those bad boys shut!) We went out to breakfast and ran into the groom and his family. After breakfast, we went back to our room and fed the babies, as we do, every three hours or so. Then, they both fell asleep and stayed that way for a LONG time. Patrick went out to get his tux and I stayed with the babies. They slept and slept and slept!! And then it was time for dinner!
The monkeys, during nap one of two…I won’t bore you with the photo of the other nap, it looks the same but they’re not wearing their new Phillies bibs.
My mother in law kept the babies while we went to the rehearsal dinner which was at a lovely little Italian restaurant. The groom’s family rented a private room that was several floors above the actual restaurant and overlooked the city. Accessing it was a bit odd…we went up an elevator from the street level and to the restaurant, through the restaurant, and up into another elevator to the private room that was down a funny little hallway…whatever, the view was great, the company was great, and the food was great! And, best of all, I felt like a normal person: I did my hair, makeup, and was able to fit into a pre-pregnancy dress!!
View from the rehearsal dinner. Big city livin’.
That night we caught up with several of our friends from high school who traveled from near and far to join in the festivities. It was great to catch up, and again, to feel like a real person!
Our kiddos and mother in law were SOUND asleep when we returned, and we all slept great. The kids, again, were still on Mountain time and we slept until almost 9:30 the next morning! Yay! We headed out to breakfast and had a repeat performance of the nap the day before. Darn kids, they never sleep that well at home!
Patrick had man stuff to do all day since he was in the wedding (which apparently consisted mostly of eating sandwiches), so I just hung with the kids (while they slept like little angels) and had a few visitors since none of our friends had met the little worms yet.
Are you guys bored yet? I feel like this post is really long and we haven’t even gotten to the wedding yet. Well, I’ll forgive you if you’d like to take a break and come back later. Or not at all.
So…again, I got all gussied up (my hair looked weird, but whatever) and was able to wear a pre-pregnancy dress. Then the babysitter came. She was around 45, had a HUGE perm, a thick Jersey accent, and rhinestone studded sweatpants, I kid you not, rhinestone studded SWEATPANTS! But…she was fantastic with the kids and I found it all quite entertaining…so who cares. And, where can I get me some a those sweats?!
We headed up to the wedding ceremony on the 19th floor of our fancy-schmancy hotel after I said goodbye to the kids and wiped a few tears away (seriously…I cried. Don’t judge. This was the first time we’d left our precious little ones with anyone other than a family member). We sat near the back on the groom’s side, but a few moments before the grand entry of the wedding party, someone convinced us to sit right behind the family because there were several empty rows. So…we made a big commotion and moved up, way up…and I was in the aisle seat in the second row! I felt very exposed but did have just about the best view of anyone in the room!
The ceremony was lovely and I was so very happy to see one of my best friends marry his best friend. Adam and Margot are truly a match made in heaven and I’m so glad that Margot (or Mongs and we affectionately call her) is now officially part of the “Santa Fe crew.” (The “Santa Fe Crew” is not an actual thing, we’ve never called our group of friends that and I don’t suppose we ever will…except for in this blog post.).
The beautiful bride and groom. (photo courtsey Scott Berlin Photography)
And then it was time for cocktail hour. The hordes of people who attended the wedding all piled into elevators and headed to the second floor where there was an open bar and several appetizer stations. The food was amazing as was the room. We were on a balcony that overlooked the ballroom where we would later be dancing and dining. It was a beautiful space and I felt like the “new money” that they talk about in the Titanic movie. Ha. Thanks Leo and Kate.
The ballroom. Cocktails upstairs, dining and dancing downstairs. So fancy.
Oh my gosh! I’m married to a doctor!!
And isn’t he HANDSOME?!
Patrick with his mom…without her, we couldn’t have made this trip!
See, my hair is weird. Luckily I had a handsome date.
After an hour or two of cocktails and appetizers we headed downstairs and danced and ate the night away. There was a great live band that nailed every cover they attempted, the food was incredible and the company unbeatable. One of these days, I’ll write an entire post on our friend Carlo who should really be hired by some wedding company to make all weddings the most fun. We had a great time, so great in fact, that we had to extend the rhinestone sweatpant wearing babysitter an hour from our original planned time. It was SO worth it.
This is Carlo. If he’s not on the invite list for your wedding, he should be. He will make it so everyone has fun.
Packing up the next day, with sore feet and lots of good memories took quite a bit of effort, but after a lovely brunch hosted by the bride’s family, we headed to the airport. And more on that in the third installment of our cross country trip!
I would like to add the the bride and groom’s families who were incredibly hospitable and, believe it or not, the father of the bride is a twin!! Thank you Filstein and Dewey families for a wonderful weekend!
Epic Weekend Part 1: Cross Country Travel with Twins
It’s wedding season, people. One of my most favorite times of year. I really, really love weddings. I’m going to be that 90 year old woman who still dances to every song at my grandson’s wedding reception after having one too many glasses of champagne. We have a few friends getting married this summer, and what better way to kick off the season with a wedding in Philadelphia?
One of our best friends in the entire world got married this past weekend in Philly. Patrick was in the wedding and there was no way we were going to miss it. This guy, as I said, is not only one of our best friends, but he is one of our oldest friends too. He’s 101 years old. Just kidding. Ha, but in all seriousness, we’ve both know him since we were kids. I even share a birthday with him and our parents met in lamaze (sp??) class. So, needless to say, we weren’t going to miss it, no matter how daunting a cross country trip with 5 1/2 month old twins seemed.
I decided to make this a 3 part post about the weekend so that you’re not bored to tears by the end of one VERY long post. So, here’s the first installment: the trip across the country.
Last Wednesday, we started packing, and by that, I mean we did about 1,000 loads of laundry, because that’s what you do when you need a million outfits for your kids and a few things for yourself. We had teeny-tiny kids clothes all over the darn place. I need another laundry basket. Lesson learned. My mom and mother in law where here Wednesday night to help us get ready. Our grand plan was to have them feed the kiddos before bedtime and Patrick and I would spend that time packing our own stuff. And then, Rylan started screaming. And would NOT stop. I cuddled him, nursed him, tried bottle feeding, swaddling, shhushing, rocking, walking, swaying, crying back at him, stand up, sit down, fight, fight, fight. And that’s what he did, he fought me all the way to exhaustion, thank goodness. But then of course I had to pack with both babies sleeping in our room and sneak around trying not to wake them. Luckily, my sneaking skills are pretty fine tuned and I was able to finish packing.
So. Much. Stuff.
We were able to fit all the kids stuff in one bag and Patrick and I shared a bag. My mother-in-law traveled with us and graciously offered up some space in her bag. In retrospect, I think I would have just filled the kids bag with bibs and burpcloths. Who needs clothes anyway?
So, the morning of our trip, last Thursday, I aimed to be at the airport at 7:30. Our flight was at 8:55 and I thought that would give us plenty of time. The Albuquerque airport is typically a ghost town. I wanted to leave the house by 7:00, even though the airport is only 7 minutes away. I figured it would take us a while to unload and all that jazz. Well, we didn’t leave the house until 7:3o and got to the airport about 8:00. The line at the Southwest ticket desk was epically long. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it that bad, not in Albuquerque anyway. So, we got in line with our stuff:
- Suitcase for kids
- Suitcase for us
- Suitcase for mother-in-law
- Diaper bag
- Backpack
- Purse
- Breastpump
- Snap-n-go double stroller
- 2 carseats
- 2 carseat bases
- 2 Ergo baby packs
So, just a few things.
We checked in and headed to security. Luckily, our flight out of Albuquerque was delayed a bit, or we wouldn’t have made it.
TSA in Albuquerque was fantastic. They put us in a priority lane, so we didn’t have to wait with the rif raf. They helped us get all our items onto the conveyor belt and into the scanning machine. They even gave us baggies for ice for our breastmilk! Moms, here are a few things to know if you have to travel with infants:
- TSA does not have restrictions on volume of bottles or number of bottles of breastmilk or formula you can travel with
- Put all bottles in an easy to access gallon bag, you can repack in ice after security (we had ours in our backpack and then repacked in the pump bag that has a little cooler compartment)
- Any bottle 3oz. or over will be tested with a litmus test (they just wave the little paper over the top of the bottle, they do not stick it in the milk)
- If you carry a baby through the x-ray machine, they will swab your hand for explosive materials after you go through
- Put the carseats on the conveyor belt upside down
So, we made it through the security line with relative ease, and the TSA agent who swabbed my hands was mom to twin girls, so she understood what we were going through.
When we finally got to our gate, it was just about time to board. Patrick and his mom ran off and got us some food and I stayed with the kiddos and the brother of the groom and his wife who traveled with us (thank goodness!). Luckily, the guy at the door to the jetway saw that I had the stroller and told me I had to get the proper tags for it if I wanted to check it at the gate. So…off to the ticket counter at the gate where we received the tags to check the stroller, carseats, and bases all the way to Philly (no, we did not purchase seats for our children on the flight, therefore, did not need the carseats, we are cheap, and poor, and the kids were fine). I put Neala in the pack, where she immediately fell asleep, and we handed Rylan off to our friends so they could family board with us. We cooked up a whole scheme that if anyone asked, our friend Dawn was my sister. No one asked…oh well, we were prepared with our water tight lie.
I’m terrible at taking selfies, but this is me and Neala, just after boarding the flight. She was already asleep.
The kids were awesome on our 3 hour flight to Chicago. Neala slept the entire way and Rylan woke up enough to eat and then settled right in. And then we got to Chicago Midway, and airport I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Seriously. It was terrible. I’m pretty sure there are only about 3 chairs in the whole place. It was so crowded that the guy who got off the plane behind me actually tripped on the foot of someone waiting for the next flight as he was getting off the plane. I missed the whole thing but apparently he went all the way down and it was a big yardsale of stuff flying everywhere. Poor dude.
Neala totally sacked out on the plane. This went on for a solid 3 hours.
Patrick holding a little sleeping doll on the plane. Oh, wait, that’s our son.
Lucky us, our 2 hour layover turned into a 6 hour layover when our flight was delayed by 3 hours due to weather in Philly. So, we got to spend our afternoon in the lovely (as described above) Chicago Midway airport. We avoided near catastrophe when we started heating up Neala’s bottle and realized that we had left our entire bag of nipples and extra pacifiers on the flight. Patrick was able to run back to the gate and retrieve them before the plan took of for its next destination!
Rylan, clearly really enjoying our layover in Chicago.
Of course, while we were at Midway, I had to pump. I asked some nice wheelchair pushing employees if there was a place that I could discreetly set up…the bathroom was their suggestion. And, there really wasn’t a better place. So, off I went to the handicapped stall of the bathroom where I set up the breastpump and hung out for 15 minutes. It felt disgusting and it’s a bit appalling to me that there really isn’t a better place for women who need to pump. One more reason to hate Midway.
TMI? Too bad. This is what it looks like to pump in an airport bathroom.
Another tragic moment happened when I really just wanted the worlds most boring drink: a decaf, soy latte. I walked for about 3 miles (ok, maybe just 2) to find a coffee shop in Midway, only to find that they didn’t have soy milk. Awesome.
Again, the kids were awesome. Thank goodness! About 3 hours into our stay at Midway, a nice lady offered us her seat and so did the man next to her. Then, all of a sudden, we felt like celebrities. People just started walking up to us and talking to us about twins. One guy was the father of 4 boys and then had twin girls (6 kids, yikes!). Another guy had twins, there were identical twins waiting to board our flight (we ended up sitting right behind them)…it was crazy, people were just coming out of the woodwork. It did make the time pass a little faster and was really quite entertaining.
The adoring masses at Midway.
When we finally arrived in Philly, it was drizzling a bit but cleared up just long enough for us to stand in the taxi line and stay dry. We loaded up into a minivan cab and headed for the hotel. About 3 minutes into our cab ride, when our cabbie created his own turn lane, I was so very thankful that we decided to bring our carseats and bases. The kids thought the cab ride was hilarious and laughed the entire way to the hotel while Patrick white knuckled it in the front seat and I did the same in the back.
We were more than happy to make it to our hotel, where we were able to enjoy the extremely loud music from a high school prom booming from one of the ballrooms into the lobby as we checked in. The kids also thought that was hilarious. We were all happy to be there, with all our stuff, even if we were 3 hours late.
So there you have it, chapter one. I’ll tell you all about the wedding next, and then our trip home.
Stolen Identity
Gottcha! My identity was totally not stolen but I thought it might get some of you to read at least the first line of this post. Ha!
This is a post about my identity though and it does feel a bit hijacked at the moment, but it’s something I need to come to terms with.
Before about a year ago, I was many things: daughter, sister, wife, graphic designer, logistics master (not a real job, I just like to think I’m good at logistics), special event planner, business relationship manager, doggie mom, runner, soccer player…But all that shifted about a week after I found out I was pregnant. Then I was all those things plus pregnant, and a few weeks later I was all those things except runner and soccer player and I was sick and pregnant with twins!
Just before Thanksgiving, I quit working and then on December 9th, everything changed again and I became: mother, daughter, sister, wife, graphic designer, logistics master, doggie mom, tired, cow.
Then…(are you sick of this yet), just last week things changed a bit and now I’m: mother, daughter, sister, wife of an orthopedic surgeon resident, graphic designer, logistics master, doggie mom, tired, cow.
And that’s really where this begins. With Patrick’s residency beginning in just a few weeks, I realized that we are about to acquire a whole new social circle. I’m actually really excited about this. I’m looking forward to meeting his fellow residents and their families. The weird part about it is that none of the people we’re about to be thrown into residency with have any idea what I was all about BEFORE babies, and before I stopped working. For so long, working has been a huge part of who I am and I’ve really enjoyed the work I’ve done, especially the graphic design (which I still do freelance at home), and the event planning. I feel like I have a lot to offer and without a real job, I haven’t quite figured out how to let people know that yes, I am smart, and talented, and even sometimes fun! I am also independent and a little part of me is afraid that the only thing these new people are going to see me as is Patrick’s wife. I am absolutely proud to be Patrick’s wife, but I’m also just me and I hope I can figure out a way to share that with the newbies!
I feel pretty weird about putting a photo of just me (well, me and my crow’s feet) in this post but hey, it’s just about me, so who cares. Also, I feel even weirder/worse writing a post with no pictures, so, here I am!