Two Moms in MaineOctober 16, 2012
File under Bummer: I’m opting out of CIM. My heel has not healed, and my body is now way too squishy to race a marathon, and so I’m bowing out. I can run, but it’s amazing how fast I lose fitness when I’m not logging 50-60 miles/week. Yesterday’s 6 miles were miserably similar to running in water. Me and my thighs, we slogged like we’ve never slogged before. Time to refocus on rebuilding fitness and prepping for Boston to Big Sur.
As any New Englander knows, when the going gets tough, the tough go to Maine. When Henry was bitty, we fell in love with One Morning in Maine, reading it over and over and over (and over). By reading #491, I’d adopted an imaginary second child named Sal, who would learn all about spark plugs while eating chocolate ice cream and of course thinking she has the coolest mom ever. In my imaginary mom-of-Sal world, I know all about spark plugs and outboard motors. I’ve fantasized about living in Maine, but I don’t, so I make friends with people from Maine and sometimes I go there.
On Sunday morning, I took Henry up to Portland to make friends with children from Maine so he can play along with my fantasy. We met up with Emilie from One Mom in Maine, a great blog written by one of the most stellar women I’ve ever met who happens to have two equally cool kids. Skyler, Reed, and Henry hit it off so well, we coulda been in a brochure for the Portland tourist bureau. It’s always fun to see your slightly off-beat and highly spirited kid make a connection with your friend’s kids. Cuz then you get to hang out with your friend. Look at the happy children:
At the restaruant, we ate pizza while drawing dragons with fire and no teeth, as well as dragons with teeth and no fire. We also discussed the appropriate age for kids to get tattoos and reviewed Greek and Egyptian gods (but not Roman, because we’re not into Roman mythology). Then we did some math problems. Then we asked many, many times when we were going to leave the restaurant and go to the museum.
Then we made a detour to track down a feral cat that Skyler saw, followed by a bell-ringing stop. It was a very loud bell, which made it a very fun activity (for some more than others).
After the very loud bell-ringing stop, Emilie and I decided there would be a very necessary coffee-buying stop before we hit the children’s museum. We probably needed a Valium stop, too, but Portland didn’t have any obvious street-corner med hustlers. The kids gleefully watched some men playing speed chess, expressing their excitement with airborne cookie crumbs that the men did not much appreciate.
The two moms decided it was museum time. For Henry, highlights of the Portland Children’s Museum included buying fake groceries with fake money, which apparently is super amazing fun, while he thinks going to a real store to buy real groceries with real money is child abuse.
The kids ran totally wild, we lost them on several occasions, and a good time was had by all.
Our too-brief Maine retreat ended with more very loud bell-ringing to announce to all of Maine that we were five very happy people.
Good friends are a good thing. A good friend gets you and it’s good to be gotten. There’s this scene from Weeds where Nancy goes to a bar to pick up a brick of pot from another dealer, and he makes her get on the pool table and dance for the brick. When someone has you climbing on the pool table, a solid friend talks you down. A friend like Emilie will text you to say: “Hey. Brick dance on your own terms, woman.” You know, because sometimes the song is really good and it’s fun to dance on a pool table.
File under: Better