Baby in the City

My feet are blistered and raw. I can't leave the air conditioned indoors. I have an emotional hangover. I'm certain at least one passenger on the 370 from Chicago to GR is talking about the "horrible crying baby" that ruined her peaceful ride. But what a day!

Rowdy and I had our first little adventure together. A lovely, warm 7am Dr. D brought us to the train station:

So exciting! One word of advice: if there's a little black speck moving on the toilet seat, Do Not Sit Down! Unless you want to go home crabby. I was a little nervous of sitting after the toilet incident, but eventually need for rest wins over fear of buggies. Even for babies. Rowdy spent some quality time with Froggy Friend:

And then she took a nap:

For thirty minutes. Some wake time. Then another nap, for another thirty minutes. So on all the way to Chicago. Welcome Union Station!

Then we started walking. And walking and walking and walking ...

Rowdy loved everything. Everyone smiled at her (of course!). And Mama's feet didn't start hurting until the 2 mile mark. Only half mile to go. But we made it!

A very blurry me, Penny, and Kerry Cohen and her amazing boots. As one would expect.

A very blurry me, Penny, and Kerry Cohen and her amazing boots. As one would expect.

And a lovely day with my wonderful friend Kerry Cohen and her adorable youngest son, my adorable youngest daughter and yummy food (thank you Charlie!). Not to mention hot footwear and gorgeous hair (neither mine, by the way. I was more messy and wrinkled). A quick ride back to Union Station (Thank you, Nancy!) and off we chugged toward home:

Pretty sunset:

A nice lady offered to hold Rowdy for part of the last hour. Rowdy bathed her in burp-up, which was awfully sharing, I thought. The woman didn't seem so appreciative, but whatever. Little Rowdy was soaking in Travel Excitement by that point. Sleep? Who would suggest such a thing! She nipped and napped, finally crashing at 11pm as we pulled into the station.

Miss Rowdy didn't care for her last few minutes on the train - mean mama woke her from sleepies to pack her up in the sling, sling on the backpack, and head out. One early-20s girl shot her many dirty looks, as if glaring daggers at a delirious, screaming baby will HELP anything. Would it be mean to admit I hoped that gal made a visit to the creepy-crawly bathroom stall? My other thought: "Rowdy will cry for a moment, but you will be a B@!#% forever."

A day of adventure, fun, friendship, challenge. And worth every exhausting minute!