I was a 1950s socialite in heels and pearls with my wee little poodle. K. was my fedora-and-suspender-wearing photographer.
Unfortunately, the one picture we got the babysitter to take of the two of us shows neither the fedora nor the suspenders, and his eyes are shut. Trust me that he looked awesome.
Several drinks and hours later, after hanging out with a robot and a zombie and a Catholic priest and a Black Forest hag, among others, we came home to find a wee little baseball player hungry for a feed. So still in costume, but feeling entirely like us... we fed him.
I have to say that leaving two kids (neither of whom were asleep when we left the house) and walking out the door holding hands is pretty much one of the best feelings ever. The hours away make coming home very sweet indeed.
(And I have to say... Annaliese, at nearly 2 years in, is awesome with sitters. She loves Miss Margaret and Miss Grace. This morning over breakfast, I asked her if she had a good time with Miss M. last night, and she nodded and said "yeah." Big blessing, this.)
Delivering a wedding present.
2 months ago