Admissions

Some downright extraordinary things have happened this week and I want to write about them but there's this that I have to write about first because, well, it's major.

It's about Sofia and her education.

As much as I wanted to have Sofia hold a little chalkboard that

said "My First Day of Preschool", this was the best I could

do because the kid would not hold still.

A while back, I wrote about Sofia's school and how I was disappointed in the quality of their 'teaching.'  To be fair, it was a glorified church nursery and Sofia loved her teachers and that definitely counts for something.  But I wanted more for her, so I looked around and found a school that had more of a curriculum-based structure with an emphasis on the arts, and Sofia started her new school a couple of weeks ago.

At orientation, I got my first clue that this was going to be more serious when the teacher referred to herself by her last name.  At the old school, her teachers were Miss Michelle, Miss MaryAnn, Miss Stephanie.  At the new school, her teachers are Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Jones (not their real names.)  It's a small thing, but I sat up a little straighter nonetheless.  Mrs. Smith outlined her goals and expectations for the kids - no such thing at the old school.  There was a curriculum and schedule to each day.  This was the real deal and I found myself getting nervous for Sofia.  Would she be able to cut it?  Would this be too much structure?  Would she buckle under the pressure?

The first day I stayed with her while she got acclimated to the classroom.  All us parents alternated standing around and playing with our respective children.  We were also sizing each other up and barely hiding it.  I was doing it too - I compared my outfit to the other moms, making sure I was striking the right tone.  Casual, but not sloppy; you want to look put together but they look sideways at you if you go overboard, and I think I passed.  Sofia also had an appropriate outfit on too, one that I purchased just before the first day because at the last minute I decided that nothing in her closet would be acceptable for the first day of school.  

She could have cared less.

She was busy checking out the joint and making sure the babies were fed.

And this bottle feeding thing?  I never taught her this and I have no idea 

where it came from, but it sure is adorable.

After that first day, we were no longer allowed in the classroom.  You drop the kid off at the door and the teacher brings them out at the end of the day.  That was far more traumatizing to me than Sofia - I felt like I was abandoning her, and walking away while she cried was incredibly hard.  Yet, the first day she cried, the second time she whimpered and the third time she walked right in without a backwards glance.  

I'm happy with this school, Sofia seems happy, but I couldn't help but wonder if there was more out there that I should be researching.  And boy howdy, welcome to the rabbit hole.

Apparently, preschool is right up there with college admissions and I had no idea.  I mean, I knew but I didn't know.  You've got your teaching philosophies - Montessori vs. Waldof vs. Reggio Emilia.  Then you've got your homeschooling and unschooling.  They've made movies about the preschool process - trip out on that shit because this preschool thing is no joke.  I started looking around and found a Spanish Immersion Waldorf-based program that now I'm convinced my kid has to be in, or she's going to end up picking up garbage on the highway for the rest of her life.

This is not the face of a highway garbage collector.

But the Spanish school is 30 minutes away.  It's a 9am-1:30 setup versus the two hours she's in school now.  And if I do Spanish immersion in preschool, then I have to find a Spanish immersion kindergarten, because what's the point of doing it in preschool if you're not going to follow through?  And what about math and science based programs?  Math and science are super important, but so is the arts - she must have exposure to the arts!  And sports!  She needs physical activity, she needs to learn teamwork, discipline, and whatever the heck else you get from sports that you don't get from other stuff.  

And how do you tell which philosophy is right for your kid?  Maybe I'm just behind and I know nothing, but I can't really tell how Sofia learns.  She seems to absorb everything in every way.  We play with blocks so she can learn spatial reasoning, cause and effect (building and knocking down), we paint and play with playdoh to stimulate the artsy creative part of her brain, we read because reading is fundamental (!), and she seems to like it all.  I can't point to any one thing and be like Sofia likes to do things with her hands or Sofia is a visual learner.  All I can say at this point is Sofia is an awesome kid.

I read somewhere, and of course I can't find it right now, that the education philosophy at this young age doesn't matter.  No one can really find a measurable difference between any of the teaching methods to clearly say one is better than the other.  But still, you have to choose something.  Even by not choosing anything and just putting them in the school around the corner because it's around the corner is making a choice.  

I just want to do right by her, I want to give her the best opportunity for success, and what parent doesn't?  And I know that the kid matters more than the school, that brain surgeons can come out of inner city schools and delinquents can come out of the best boarding schools.  I also know you can have awesome teachers in crap schools and crap teachers in awesome schools, which really doesn't help when you're trying to narrow stuff down.  *sigh*  

It's important to me that Sofia learn Spanish, but that's my personal story.  I speak Spanish and French because I have an affinity for languages.  I didn't learn them until high school, but I loved it so much I got my degree in it; I see it as a gift and I want to give that to my daughter.  I want to introduce her in preschool to the love that I found in high school.  I love that I can understand other languages and it has undoubtedly enriched my understanding of English and I want the same for my daughter.  If I was all about math and science or sports or arts or dance, I'd have the same feelings and would be researching the preschool versions of MIT or Julliard.

But do I want to start the craziness that is 'getting ready for school in the morning' at three years old?  Going to a school that is 30 minutes away means an early-ass morning for us, and we all know Mama's not so great in the morning.  Right now, Sofia is doing so well sleeping through the night, and when she wakes up at 7:30, she gets in bed with me and we cuddle for another half hour.  That time is priceless and I'm not so keen on giving that up just yet.  Granted, if she goes to the Spanish school, she wouldn't start until next fall.  Which is another trip, because if I want her to go there I have to start getting my shit together like yesterday.  I have to fill out admission paperwork for my three year old, and possibly put her on the waiting list to ensure she has a spot.  It's madness, you guys.

I am also fully aware that freaking out over an education path is a privilege, and that so many right here at home don't have options and don't have access to quality education.  That's why I feel even more strongly that I have to make the right choice with my privilege; I don't want to squander what others would give their left pinky toe to have.

I wasn't ready to think about this; I'm not ready to jump into this ring, and I suppose I don't necessarily have to.  I guess I could homeschool or unschool her, although I have no idea how either of those work.  I could leave her where she is until kindergarten and put her in the assigned public school in our district and pray for the best (not that I wouldn't be praying for the best no matter where I send her.)   I'm just so passionate about education; I believe knowledge is power and I want to set her up with the best possible chances for success.

All I want, and probably all any parent wants is to give their kid the best shot they can with the resources they have and pray that their kid leads a good and happy life.  

In the meantime, I'm just going to be over here, brushing up on my, I mean Sofia's essay-writing skills. 

Power nesting

I've been a busy little bee, my friends.  I'm into my second trimester and I've gotten that big burst of energy that everyone talks about (yay!), but I also have many days that I don't feel pregnant (boo!), which is a fun little mind game, let me tell ya.  I'm trying to manage it by texting friends and going to the doctor when I feel especially crazy, but I'll be so happy when we get closer to the end, that's for sure.

But busy!  Yes!  I've been busy.  Three days after we got home from vacation, my mom came to visit.  For eleven days.  Now, I don't care how much you love someone or how great they are, having someone in your house for eleven days is a long ass time.  ALSO, Drew was gone for nine days in there, some with my mom here, some all by myself.  So yeah, there was that.  And three days after she left, Drew's parents came for a shorter visit - only four days.  Again, I love them, they love me, they SHO' love Sofia, but can I be frank?  

It's nice to have my house back.  It's nice to be back in my routine.  It's nice to walk around naked again (you said I could be frank.)

But back to this second trimester energy, because it's for real and frankly, it's a lot of fun.  Let me explain.

A few weeks ago, I noticed my next-door neighbor was using a power washer.  My eyes widened with lust and I practically fell over myself running over there to ask him if it was his or he rented it.  When he said it was his, I went all Secret of NIMH and was like Oooooohhh, you've got a power washer!  I've always wanted a power washer of my very own. Can I borrow it?  When he was like "Yeah sure", I practically danced with glee.  And one afternoon, I fired that thing up and power washed everything that was bolted down.  I cleaned our patio furniture, the back patio, the front patio, the garage door, our shutters, the outside windows - I was a power washing machine and it was awesome.  Holding that gun and blasting away totally made me feel like Xena Warrior Princess.  I totally paid for it the next day because I am nobody's warrior princess.  I could barely move.

Also, I could probably use some practice adjusting the stream

because now I have all these lovely squiggles on the driveway.

I didn't know it would do that.

I also hung stuff on the walls that had been sitting in the guest room since forever.  Now, I have zero design experience and the only rule I follow when decorating my house is that I have to love whatever comes through that door.  It may be trendy or played out, but if I love it, it stays.  That said, I hung a gallery wall in the hallway.  A lot of design people on the internet say that gallery walls are played out, but I love them so they stay.

 Although I'm still debating whether a gallery wall and the book wall

so close together make things too busy.

But I sure do love our little travel wall.

We've been to more places, but this is a good representation.

I also moved these pictures.  Originally, they were centered if the front door was open

but it looked funny with it closed so I scooted them over so they were centered if the 

door was closed, which is how it is most of the time.

Can we take a second to marvel at how frickin straight the frickin 

Command strips are?

It's weird little things like this that make me love Drew so much.

I assure you when I rehung them I paid zero attention to 

whether my Command strips were that straight.

I also did my best to make sure the space between the pictures was uniform

but I'm pretty sure it isn't because I am not an engineer.

But now they're centered on the wall and I even used the laser level

to get them in line with the light switch, so that's gotta be something, right?

Even with me and my mom doing the measuring and marking it still took forever,

but they're moved and I'm happy.

THEN, yesterday I attacked our bathroom.  It was glorious and I can't wait to show you.

Now, our bathroom is teensy weensy.  Actually, our house is teensy - it's barely 1100 square feet on the main floor.  Of course, the basement is another 1000 square feet but that doesn't count because I'm not down there every day and it's not finished, truly usable space.  Our old house had no basement and it was about 1800 square feet, so we're having to figure out how to make it work with less space.  So far, it hasn't been bad but that bathroom was killing me, which is funny because our bathroom in Texas wasn't any bigger.  I think that it didn't seem to bother me because our bedroom was bigger.  But I digress...

First, I tackled the cabinet under the sink.  I was so gung-ho that I didn't take a before picture, but y'all are smart.  Use your imagination and picture a teensy space crammed with a ton of shit.  Got it?  Now erase that image and feast your eyes on this organized piece of deliciousness!

And now I've shown the internet my bathroom cabinet.  I'm sure this crosses some line,

and now I'm *that* blogger, but I cannot possibly convey how much I don't care

because this makes me so ridiculously happy.

I bought that white drawer thing on the right from Target and did a happy 

dance when it fit.  I'm so serious, now I open the cabinet just to look at everything

in its home.  I don't even need anything.  I just look at it.

Then came the medicine cabinet.

I'm just taking it there today, my friends.

I'm so glad we're close like that.

First, I took everything out and gave the shelves a good dusting

because they was nasty.

Also, I painted our bedroom but that's another post.

Then I put back everything I use on a daily basis:

Pregnancy stuff on the bottom; heparin and pills along with hair ties and q-tips

with face stuff and mouthwash above it.

I used to have an entire medicine cabinet filled with my creams and potions

and serums and gels and this is what it's gotten pared down to.

Just the facts, ma'am:  Keep the baby alive, keep your face clean and wash your mouth out.

I also threw out over 30 bottles of expired medications.

Why so many?  I have no earthly idea.

There were also several of these unmarked bottles of pills.

Will they cure me?  Will they kill me?  Who knows?

Here's another thing I was more than happy to throw out.

Sayonara sucka!  I'm so done with you I can't even TELL you how done I am!

Bada bing, bada boom, we have an organized medicine cabinet.

"It doesn't look that much different," you may say.

To which I would respond, "Oh ho HO!  But look closer!"

You see that top shelf?  The entire contents of that top shelf, except for a couple small bottles, was constantly getting strewn around our teensy bathroom.  I'll give you a clue who was doing it:  It Was Drew.  And those plastic bags on the left side of the second shelf?  Those are his travel toiletries, which also were perpetually homeless.  After a work trip, you could often find them on top of the toilet, on our teensy sink and anywhere else that would piss me off because we don't have the space.  Now those things have a home, behind the cabinet doors and my teensy bathroom looks a little more put together.

Also, also!  My makeup is in my bathroom now!  Previously, it was in the hall bathroom and that was just too far away for me to ever think about putting on my face.  Now with it right next to my toothpaste, maybe just maybe, I won't leave the house looking like death warmed over quite so often anymore.  What the opposite saying of out of sight, out of mind?  When it's close, maybe now you'll use it?  I don't think that's how it goes, but you get my point.

Go on, say it:  I'm a genius.

Ok yeah, it took me a year to figure out to put a board over the sink.

Don't bother me with the details.

I'm a genius.

Another reason I never bothered with my hair or makeup is because I never had a work surface.  There is about two inches on either side of the sink bowl and having my curling iron fall over for the 80th time or having my makeup bag topple over yet again, was enough for me to be like, F it, who needs to do hair and makeup anyway.  Until!  My power nesting instinct was like, you just need a larger work surface.  It was a total Eureka moment and I hightailed it to Michael's and came home with this piece of craft wood that was the perfect size, no cutting or anything!  It lives on the floor to the right of the sink when I'm not using it and now I have a spot to do my hair and makeup!  Today, I used brow gel and mascara and let me tell you, that is major.  

Drew came home from work and I was like,

"Please to look at the bathroom now.  Notice how your shit is no longer everywhere.  This is the default mode.  Thank you for your cooperation in this matter, 

that is all, please and thank you."

I'm working on finding a place for his perfumes because I don't want that top shelf there anymore; I want a pretty picture instead.

Power nesting y'all:  Nothing is safe.

When Drew's parents were here I took advantage of the free babysitting as it were, and painted our bedroom.  I think the point of free babysitting is so you can actually leave the house and do fun stuff, but I suppose painting is a close second.  Hopefully I can write about that tomorrow because we've also done some rearranging in the bedroom.  I'm on a roll; I still need to do Sofia's big girl room and of course, decorate the nursery (!!!) and I want everything done by the end of October.  That way, I don't have to mess with doing stuff over the holidays and I'll be too big and uncomfortable in January and in February, baby #2 will be here (!!!).  I still need to come up with a good fetus name, because yeah, even though The Situation fit at the time, it just doesn't go anymore.  Interestingly, I think we've chosen her name but I still keep referring to her as New Baby.  We did that with Sofia too, I'm not sure why.  We just didn't really use her name until she was out and in the world with us.  

Anyway, if you'll please excuse me, Sofia is still napping (hollaaa!) and I'm itching to go through some baby clothes.

Have a great day!

Death by jellyfish

While most of our Hilton Head vacation was really wonderful, there was one part that wasn't so great.  It was the part where I almost died. 

Don't be fooled.  There's death in these waters.

It turns out that Sofia was the only smart one in our little group.  She wanted nothing to do with the ocean and that was probably the smartest choice.  It's always better when you can see the bottom and edges of the body of water where you're about to surrender your body.  But no one ever listens to the toddler.  Nooooo.  Every single day, we'd try and get her to go down to the ocean and every single day, she'd grab our hands and pull us back saying "NO Mommy!  I wanna go to the pooooool!"

The last few days of our vacation, Nate and Julie drove down from Charlotte to join us at the beach.  Sofia is in love with her Auntie Julie and Uncle Nate and it was purely because of them that we were able to get Sofia to come down to the beach on our very last day.

"Hurry!  Take a picture before she wants to go back to the pool!

We need proof we were actually at the beach!"

Auntie Julie has the magic touch.

Then I set the phone down, we took off our cover ups and we all headed into the water.  I held Sofia for a little while and then handed her off to Drew and we all just lounged in the ocean.  Sofia ended up having a really good time, shouting out "Here comes a big one!" every time the waves would come in.  The water was warm, the weather was nice and we were all about waist high in the water.  Drew was holding Sofia, Nate and Julie and I were all nearby, and we were just enjoying our last day of vacation.

Out of nowhere, Drew yell-screamed and lifted Sofia out of the water.  I had barely looked over to see what had happened when a searing pain hit me on my left foot.  I screamed in shock and less than a second later, an even worse pain hit my right ankle.  Instinctively, I raised my right foot and bent down to brush off whatever had gotten me.  But that meant I had to balance on my left foot and the second I tried to put weight on it, the pain caused me to lose my balance and I stumbled in the water - right into whatever was still probably floating around nearby.

Holy shit, we just got stung by jellyfish.

It happened in seconds.  Drew stumbled towards the shore with Sofia, and I tried to get out too but the pain, holy shit the pain.  I couldn't walk and I was terrified to try and swim back because I didn't want to get stung again but I sure as hell didn't want to stay in the water.  Luckily, I didn't have to think about my last minutes on Earth before I was devoured by what was certainly thousands of jellyfish waiting to take me to my watery grave, because Nate scooped me up and we all ran out of the water.

I couldn't believe what had just happened and holy SHIT the pain.  It felt like I'd been slapped with a strip of nails on both my feet and it stung like no other.  I really wanted to roll around and scream and cry because it hurt that bad but Sofia was hysterically crying so I had to keep it together and reassure her that I was okay.  Bless her heart, one second we were jumping the waves and the next we're screaming and running out of the water.  She had no clue what was happening.  And of course poor Drew got stung too and I was worried about him but he seemed to be doing ok.

We sprayed our legs with vinegar and water that the beach lifeguards gave us which did precisely nothing.  I felt like my feet were on fire.  I was actually surprised that Drew wasn't in more agony but he's tough like that.

I'd heard that you're supposed to pee on jellyfish stings but we didn't do that.  I wasn't exactly prepared to have Drew pee on me and I wasn't sure that I would be able to pee on him, so I just sat there and suffered.  We returned to the safety of the pool and Nate and Julie took Sofia swimming while I sat on the lounge chairs and realized that I'd just been stung by a jellyfish.  

It may not be much to look at but the stinging was so serious.

It lasted for a good forty minutes and that shit was NOT cool.

My poor hubby got slapped too.

He told me about one time when he got stung in the face by jellyfish when he lived in Australia.  He was diving into the waves and dove right into one - I couldn't even imagine.

I think that's why this one didn't faze him like it did me.

We were laying by the pool, watching Sofia with Nate and Julie.  The stinging had gone down and I could think straight again.  More than anything, I was glad it was us and not Sofia.  I could not begin to think of her enduring such pain and I promise I would have peed all over her had she been stung, I don't care who would have seen me. I could barely deal with the pain, the thought of my baby feeling that?  No effin way.  But she was fine, safe and sound and I had narrowly escaped death.  I began to verbally process what had happened.

me:  Babe.  We got stung by jellyfish.

Drew:  Mmhmm.

me:  Babe.  We got STUNG.  By JELLYFISH.

Drew:  I know.  I was there.

me:  That shit HURT.

Drew:  I know.

me:  Oh my GOD.  What if it had been Sofia!  I would have peed on her, you know.

Drew:  I know.

me:  Thank God it wasn't her though.  Because I'm pretty sure that jellyfish was trying to kill us.

Drew:  *Gigantic eye roll*

me:  BABE!  It WAS!  I saw its eyes.  They were red.

Drew:  Oh really.

me:  YES!  It had red eyes and I'm pretty sure it growled at me.

Drew:  Growled?

me:  It did. You didn't hear it.  You weren't there.

Drew:  I was right next to you.  I got stung first.

me:  Yeah, but you got stung by the baby.  It was probably a newborn jellyfish that didn't even know what it was doing.  I got stung by the mother and I'm pretty sure it was trying to drag me down to my watery grave.

Drew:  *huge sigh*  I'm getting in the pool.

me:  *following him in*  Babe I'm serious!  I almost died!  I saw the light!  The jellyfish was trying to drag me to the light but I resisted because I have too much to live for.

Drew:  You are ridiculous.

me:  I can't believe you're talking to me like that, here I just survived a near death experience.

Drew:  You're fine.

me:  Yeah now.  Because I'm a fighter.  I wouldn't let that jellyfish take me down.  I wouldn't let it take me to a watery grave.

Drew:  *taking a deep breath and going underwater, probably because he couldn't take the thought of nearly losing his precious wife to a vicious man-eating jellyfish.*

me:  BABE!  I almost DIED!  You shouldn't swim away like that!  

Drew:  *swimming towards me and grabbing my ankles*

me:  Stop trying to drag me to my watery grave!

Drew really has no sympathy for us near-death survivors.

By dinner that night, I was completely fine, no thanks to him.  The bumps on my left foot were nearly gone and the welt on my right ankle was no longer swollen.

What was left of my brush with death.

Now, what's really interesting is that just a few days ago, Drew started complaining that his stings were itching and bumps had reappeared at the site.  A day later, my stings started bumping up again and getting red and itchy too!  This is over a week after we'd gotten stung and I have no idea if that's normal or not.  Julie googled whether stings were dangerous for pregnant women and it seems like they're not, so I guess I'm okay. 

 How they looked this morning.

This is probably going to leave a mark.

My girlfriend's step-daughter got stung by a man o' war and she says she thinks that what stung us because apparently jellyfish don't leave marks like I have, but I haven't the first clue.  I haven't dropped dead yet, the baby is still rockin' and rollin' inside me, so I'm not going to freak myself out.  I'll ask at my next doctor's appointment, but I figure if I'm still alive at this point I'm probably going to make it.

*I went to the doctor this morning and she said I don't have anything to worry about.  Also, the baby kicked the Doppler wand when the doctor was listening to the heartbeat.  I mean, right in the wand.  That was no accident and I'm pretty sure my daughter is going to be a badass.

I'm just beyond thankful that it wasn't Sofia.  The thought of her getting stung gives me chills and this story would have gone very differently if it had been her.

So that was our big adventure on vacation.  I narrowly escaped certain death by the jellyfish of South Carolina.  Or man o' wars.  Is that the right plural?  Mans o' war doesn't sound right.  At any rate, I just barely survived my first brush with the wilderness.  

See Mom!  I told you to stay away from the ocean!

Now let's hit up that baby pool, I gotta practice my backstroke!

I have a sister

Yeah, we've been home for almost two weeks and I still haven't done a vacation recap.  I also didn't unpack and do vacation laundry for a week and a half after we got home, so this is about right.  But it's important recap because important things happened while we were on vacation, like I almost died.  But that'll be the next post because otherwise, this one will get crazy long.

But the other stuff first.  Namely, my kid is pretty much almost sorta kinda able to swim and let me tell you, the difference is night and day.  Before, she was so wary of the water that I'd have to hold her nearly the whole time we would be in the pool and that got so old so fast.  Now, we can be in the pool alongside each other and it's so much more enjoyable.  To you, there may not be much to see in these videos, but to see Sofia jumping in the pool by herself and dog-paddling her way around the pool makes me so ridiculously proud of her that I pretty much have to show you.

So here's my kid, sorta kinda almost swimming and it's the cutest thing in the world.  And if I knew anything about making movies on my laptop there would only be one movie instead of two; my apologies.

We were gone for two weeks and we spent the first week in Charlotte with Nate and Julie.  You remember them, right?  Drew's brother and his wife? They're Sofia's godparents too?  We went to their swankalicious wedding?  Well, we got to hang out with them and they turned us on the to The Discovery Place and we spent an awesome afternoon there and Nate and Julie solidified their spots as Coolest Auntie and Uncle Ever.

They played at the giant water table.

They shopped at the grocery store.

We even talked about how pastured eggs are always better and more humane

than eggs that come from sad mistreated chickens.

We even had time for a quick stop at the bank.

But soon enough, it was time to pack up the car with all of our ten thousand things and head on down to the beach.

No seriously, we brought everything.

Our villa in Hilton Head was amazing.  It was actually bigger than our house, which was a major treat.  Drew and I could be in the bathroom together!  At the same time!  And not risk an elbow to the eye!

Such nice digs!

I was wary of the full size kitchen and the full-size washer and dryer that was in the villa

because cooking and doing laundry was NOT my idea of vacation.

Thankfully, Drew did all of the laundry and most of the cooking so it felt like

I wasn't actually on duty.

Why am I always pregnant when we have a jacuzzi tub?

One of these days I'm going to get to use one of those things.

We made short work of unpacking and high-tailed it down to the pool, where we spent most of our time because Sofia wanted nothing to do with the beach and she was too young for all of the activities at the resort.

This was the first day, within a few hours of our arrival.  Shortly after this shot,

Sofia looked at us and said "Okay, let's go to the pool now."

Also, going to the pool requires a minimum of three bags.

It was a really great vacation; Drew didn't have to do any work whatsoever.  I think he answered an email or two but he didn't have to take any work calls once we got there and let me tell you, that's as rare as a unicorn sighting so I was super grateful.

I also met my sister.

We met with her and her husband for dinner one night and I don't think I've ever been more nervous.  I wanted to vomit and cancel and run and hide, but I made it through.  We arrived at the restaurant before they did and so we saw them walking up.  I immediately knew it was her; she has my dad's nose.  So do I.  *We* have *our* dad's nose.  I only had a quick second to pray that I wouldn't say anything stupid before they got to the table and that was it, no turning back now.

They sat down and thank God for Drew because he's good at this sort of thing and just jumped right in, doing what he does and breaking the ice.  I felt more comfortable and found myself loosening up.  Also, thank God for Sofia because it's super easy to talk about my kid and she started asking me all about her and that served to put me even more at ease.  Before I knew it, we were chatting like we were good friends.

She and her husband are really good people, you can just feel it.  They've been married for 25 years, they enjoy each other and they seem happy with life.  We did talk about our dad, but not as much as you'd think; this wasn't about him and how much he sucks (even though he does.)  This was about us getting to know each other.  It was about us finding our way in a new relationship and I'm so pleased to say that by the end of dinner I didn't even want to vomit anymore!  Wanna know something super crazy?  We have some of the same mannerisms!  How weird is that?!  I said something and gestured somehow Kenny (her husband) did a for-real double take and was like "Lord if that isn't Donna just now!"  She laughed and was like "I know!  I do the same thing!"  Is something like that even possible?

We finished dinner with the promise that we'd get together one more time before they left and we gave them a ride to their car.

 And now, for the perfectly awful picture courtesy of the valet.

I mean, I know it was nighttime and the flash makes everything ugly, but still.

The next night, they came to our hotel to hang out with us and we FaceTimed with

her kids.  I mean, my niece and nephew.  They were super polite and friendly and 

they were so sweet with Sofia, which made them a-ok in my book.

I wasn't sure how process the knowledge that I had a sister and that she's known about me for years and years and I've only known about her for just a couple of months.  However, she is so nice and her husband is just one of those guys you want to have a beer with, that you really can't help but feel at ease with them.  They were both so easy to talk to and I found myself relaxing more and more around them.  

We've already spoken a couple of times over the phone and she has even offered to come up and help when the new baby gets here.  My mouth fell open on that one, but she was serious and who knows, I may take her up on it.

I don't know how our relationship will develop over time, but I do know that I'm glad that I didn't cancel dinner, and I'm really glad we finally met.  She is an amazingly sweet person with a really good heart and I could use more people like that in my life.

I'm thinking it's a pretty cool bonus that she's also my sister.  Huh.  Who'da thunk it?  Me, with a sister.

How 'bout that.....