We stayed up talking. I finished the layout approval for #babyfat and submitted it to my publisher, giving the green light in releasing my dream to the world. We stayed in bed till after noon and in our pajamas till 3 pm. We cooked hot dogs and tator total tots and we went to target and replaced my broken duffle bag, bought Eli a new outfit because she under packed (she gets that from her father's side), and new gel pens to doodle with on the train until we both get sleepy enough to nod off for the rest of the trip.
Then we stopped for dinner at Olive Garden and that was it. We saw nothing else while in Delaware. My friend and Girl Body Pride editor Shoshana Kohn, had picked us up from our hotel in Baltimore Saturday night after my panel at the Be Blogalicious conference and took us back to her place for a meeting four years in the making, and it was Nothing Spectacular At All and that's perfectly fine with me. After years of never ending text message conversations, I expected nothing less. It was beautifully and boringly and perfectly normal.
That, I think, is just the way it should be.
I'm sitting on a train hurtling backwards into tomorrow. Eliana and I are sitting in the cafe car and I'm hoping she curls up and passes out soon, lest The Husband get wind of the fact that conference travel for Mama's speaking engagements has irrevocably fucked up our daughter's circadian rhythm beyond repair. Feel free to judge, it being three a.m. and everything, because I'd totally be doing the same if I wasn't me and especially if it was you. Truth in advertising, right?
I don't take full responsibility for the Her Being Wide the Fuck Awake When All The Other Children Are Sleeping thing because we boarded the train in Delaware just before midnight. Going north in New England, particularly when North is so far North that italics needs to be used for the proper amount of emphasis and fellow passengers raise an eyebrow and say things like "That's Canada, right?", has its drawbacks. For starters, every station stop takes me farther away from my weekend in Baltimore and my first Blogilicous conference experience - as a speaker, no less - and closer to the place I call home where my driveway is often confused for the entrance to Narnia.
It should also be noted that the moose living on our property in Yes It's Still America, God Dammit, Maine, has taken a particular liking to shitting in Narnia, which, for some unforsaken reason, my dogs like to remind me almost daily how much they hate getting baths by rolling in said moose shit. To make things more interreting and keep me on my toes, the three of them take turns, perhaps deciding who gets to roll in the moose shit next with a rousing game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, while the other two play lookout. The game isn't official until Mom pets the winner, involuntarily throws up in her mouth a little when she realizes that all too familar brown muck she just helped spread into the winner's fur probably isn't mud -- It hasn't rained in weeks and never smells like that -- and screams out Mother FUCKER, AGAIN????? I can never be sure, of course, but my theory is that while I bathe the winner in the bathroom, door closed to minimize chance of escape, the other two are settling who gets to go next with heads or tails and a quarter toss.
This - my Narnia in the middle of nowhere and my moose-shit covered dogs and The Husband and my bed - is where I am heading. We arrive in Boston at 8 a.m., transfer stations and board the second train about noon. We will arrive in Portland, Maine, two hours later, and then I will drive and drive and drive and when I take the key out of the ignition, I'll still be in America. And I will be home.