I wanted to say a lot more about the walk on Saturday. About how awesome it was to meet so many other fabulous Pittsburgh-and-otherwise bloggers, some parents and some not. The children who walked with their parents were all awesome, too. About how proud I was to be part of Team Pittsburgh, which — Maddie Spohr’s parents’ team aside — raised the most money nationally. Over $5200, yo.
But a lot of other people have already said so much, and Burgh Baby is compiling posts and pictures over at her place. Go there to see more and learn more about the awesomeness that is Pittsburgh Social Media.
Which reminds me that I should try to find some more Tweeter peeps. Or, tweeps. I did not make that up.
Also, as you look around at all the other pretty pictures, please note how often one of my children appears in a photo with someone other than me. The team effort went a lot further than just raising more than $5000 for March of Dimes.
Exhibit A: Uncle Crappy discussing the finer points of ducks with Monkey:
Exhibit B: ClumberKim shows Bun the view from up there:
While it is true that I could have easily walked 3 miles on my own (I’m not that out of shape), the fact of the matter was that I “walked” with my two independent-minded and/or slow children. Team RPM came in dead last among the March for Maddie team; I think we were trailed by a few other walkers. But not many. Monkey had to pet every puppy she saw and pick a few flowers; and if Bun wasn’t strapped in that wagon or being carried, she was walking her own way to the beat of her own drummer.
Afterwards, we ran off to bounce in the bouncy castle, pet goats (not fainting goats, alas) and other animals, and ride ponies. Then there was that wagon to return. We were seriously trailing by the time lunch rolled around. I feel bad that the original site of lunch was closed down somewhere between the time Burgh Baby made reservations and Saturday (WTF, BTW), but I am glad we ran into the rest of the team walking back from there right by Jerome Bettis’ Grille 36. That place gives me another reason to totally love The Bus.
And then after lunch (which, despite my children’s hunger and exhaustion, actually went pretty well), I took a wrong turn leaving the North Shore.
I did not realize that the parkway to the airport was closed. I could have been home by the time I had my panic attack if I had taken 65 to 51 out of the city. But nooooooo.
I bailed on 79N after the split at 79N/S turned into a parking lot. I could not handle the not-moving in my car. It’s been a long, long time since I had a panic attack like that. I think I freaked the kids out a little bit. (This indicated by Bun’s repeatedly asking, once I got my schmidt back together, “You happy again now, mama?”)
It was some combination of my physical exhaustion, my desire for nothing more than being alone and getting in the shower, the not-movingness of everything, and my frustration at all of the above. I got myself off the highway, took some deep breaths, put some gas in my car, and made some phone calls. Once my shorted-out brain could once more connect the dots between A (where I was), B (my SIL’s house), and C (home, where I wanted to be more than anything in the world), I felt much, much better. I took a breather at point B, and then headed home — not via the parkway.
We got home around 5:00. I fed the children, had a beer, and my parents, in town on other family business, came over to feed me and DearDR. Conveniently enough, they were staying with us overnight for Mother’s Day brunch, too.
It was an exhausting day, to say the least.
Thank goodness DearDR was such a hero on Mother’s Day. Thanks, again, babe.