I have a hard time admitting when something is bigger than me. A really hard time. I suspect part of it comes from the combination of being small in stature and the baby of the family. I have really spent the better part of my life thinking that I can do anything.
Often, that is a good thing.
But sometimes, it's probably best to admit defeat, and just learn to avoid doing certain things. And I'm not talking about trying out for the WNBA. That is something I know I can't do. This time, I'm talking about going back to New York City. The last time, the trip started out with an illegal parking spot, a sick child (that we were visiting), and losing Helen, ever so briefly. And the second day was not better.
But I am destined to not learn. So about a couple of months ago, I sent an email to my mother-in-law asking her if she wanted to go see the Rockettes with me this Winter. We've gone twice before and enjoyed it, and I think Connor would love it. She was excited to go, so we put a group of family members together and if all goes well, there will be 10 of us sitting at the afternoon performance tomorrow.
After that is when it really gets fun. I'm heading out to my friend's house again, and then Ed is heading into the city to meet a friend of his. If all goes really well, Ed will make it back out to my friend's house before we have to leave for DC on a bus the next day. If not, well, who knows how many bags or children will be left behind?
I figure, it can't be worse than last time, right?
Hope it all went smoothly.
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