Sunday: on the road again
Sunday morning I woke up before Erik and lay there doing my morning anxiety. Which sucks. But then we rushed to get ready, clean up, check out, and meet my parents at the place in Buellton they like breakfast.
We were early. Erik sat while I read the booklet for my new cell phone--they bought me a cell phone and put us on their plan, something they had talked about doing for more than a year. So yes, I have a cell phone now, though I had been so opposed, and I don't know if and how much I'll use it, or maybe it will live in the glove box of the car for emergencies. The rules of the plan are complicated and a little confusing, which I think is what Verizon wants?
Breakfast was nice, though the waitress was not. It's a very rural breakfast venue, and some cowboys were there. Our biscuits were lovely, and our omelettes were medium-good. The potatoes were not hot, barely warm, which I heartily disapprove of. I tried various tricks to make them yummy, such as chile sauce and then salsa, but none worked. But my dad liked his chicken fried steak, which is what's most important. He's very hard to please. And I think my mom liked her California omelette.
Then we went to Goleta so I could see my dearest best friend, the special someone. We talked in her room and then had Indian food for lunch in Santa Barbara. We talked and talked. I basked in her glow. I like her looks in her new glasses! I said, "I just want to warn you that I might respect you more now!" She's my best friend for every reason.
Then we drove back to Santa Maria, where I got to see my beautiful little nieces. The elder, who is 3, was affectionate and hyper. We played a lot. I sat her on my lap, carried her around, tickled. We played chase, I pushed her on the swingset swing. She wanted a lot of attention and to distract me from the younger as much as possible.
The younger is four and a half months old and so pretty. I lay with her on the livingroom floor. I held her and carried her around the living room, whispering to her how she is such a good girl, such a pretty baby, so special, and how I love her so much. I kissed her head over and over. I said to my mom, "She's still a baby!" I was worried I had missed the true baby time.
We all sat on the porch swing in the backyard, and I almost started crying when we were singing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." It's moments like those that I think I really need to move to the area and spend all my Sundays that way, because what could be more real and true than helping raise such beautiful young people.
When we first arrived and the baby was in a good mood, I felt deep stirrings like, "I want one of those," but as the afternoon continued, and she got fussy, I realized I couldn't be a mother. And I've made the right choices in enjoying kids in niece-form as opposed to daughter- or son-form.
Then we drove home, and I fell asleep before it was even dark, waking up in Stockton, and then singing Innocence Mission loudly as we came to Sacramento. Good trip.
We were early. Erik sat while I read the booklet for my new cell phone--they bought me a cell phone and put us on their plan, something they had talked about doing for more than a year. So yes, I have a cell phone now, though I had been so opposed, and I don't know if and how much I'll use it, or maybe it will live in the glove box of the car for emergencies. The rules of the plan are complicated and a little confusing, which I think is what Verizon wants?
Breakfast was nice, though the waitress was not. It's a very rural breakfast venue, and some cowboys were there. Our biscuits were lovely, and our omelettes were medium-good. The potatoes were not hot, barely warm, which I heartily disapprove of. I tried various tricks to make them yummy, such as chile sauce and then salsa, but none worked. But my dad liked his chicken fried steak, which is what's most important. He's very hard to please. And I think my mom liked her California omelette.
Then we went to Goleta so I could see my dearest best friend, the special someone. We talked in her room and then had Indian food for lunch in Santa Barbara. We talked and talked. I basked in her glow. I like her looks in her new glasses! I said, "I just want to warn you that I might respect you more now!" She's my best friend for every reason.
Then we drove back to Santa Maria, where I got to see my beautiful little nieces. The elder, who is 3, was affectionate and hyper. We played a lot. I sat her on my lap, carried her around, tickled. We played chase, I pushed her on the swingset swing. She wanted a lot of attention and to distract me from the younger as much as possible.
The younger is four and a half months old and so pretty. I lay with her on the livingroom floor. I held her and carried her around the living room, whispering to her how she is such a good girl, such a pretty baby, so special, and how I love her so much. I kissed her head over and over. I said to my mom, "She's still a baby!" I was worried I had missed the true baby time.
We all sat on the porch swing in the backyard, and I almost started crying when we were singing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." It's moments like those that I think I really need to move to the area and spend all my Sundays that way, because what could be more real and true than helping raise such beautiful young people.
When we first arrived and the baby was in a good mood, I felt deep stirrings like, "I want one of those," but as the afternoon continued, and she got fussy, I realized I couldn't be a mother. And I've made the right choices in enjoying kids in niece-form as opposed to daughter- or son-form.
Then we drove home, and I fell asleep before it was even dark, waking up in Stockton, and then singing Innocence Mission loudly as we came to Sacramento. Good trip.
posted by Laura-Marie @ 8:40 PM
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