One hundred years ago, while school was still in session and an overnight snowstorm was still a real possibility, I signed my kids up for summer camp. At the Carnegie Museum of Art and Natural History. Which is in Pittsburgh. Which is NINETY-SIX miles from our house.
I signed Sam up for paleontology camp, which is an all day camp. But since Lucy's birthday is just ten days shy of the cutoff, she had to go to a different camp which only meets in the morning. That means that I can't just drop them off. I get to be there all day, too.
"Why? Why would I do this?" you ask! Because I love my kids, and I want them to be exposed to all of the wonderful, enriching things the city has to offer, even though we live in the sticks.
Also, because I wanted see just how far I could push myself before I cracked under the sheer insanity of it all. I haven't cracked yet, but I did politely beg our wonderful babysitter to take them today. Luckily, she said yes!
I've been spending a lot of good, quality time with my oldest daughter, too. I collect her up at 11:30 and we eat lunch in the courtyard of the museum and talk about things. Like the difference between doing something 'by accident' and 'on purpose' and why we can't get a jaguar for a pet and why people make paintings with butts in them. We've also been exploring. We went to trader joe's and whole foods, we walked around the city, we found a playground, we stopped into some local shops (where Lucy decided that she does not like the smell of pachouli) and we threw pennies into every fountain we could find.
Tomorrow is the last day, and even though I will totally not miss driving one hundred and ninety two miles every damn day, I will miss spending time in the city, and spending quality time with my Lulu.
2 comments:
oh wow. You, my friend, are good.
I was just lamenting today about how when we drive to Jake's camp (which we do in the mornings because we aren't bright and shiney morning people and which is approximately 6 blocks from the house) the one-way streets don't line up properly so a 6 block drive turns into a 9 block drive. That's seriously like 4 extra minutes, when you account for all the old ladies in the neighborhood who insist on crossing in front of cars.
Lucy...I knew you were my girl. I don't like patchouli either! Never have, even though I am a bonafide 1970s hippie.
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