A week ago today I decided that it was time for Nate and I to make our first team excursion.  I'd driven him to my parents' house before, but that doesn't count since 1 - they live a mile away and 2 - my parents are there when I get there, duh.  It's extremely low risk.

But last Wednesday we were running low on formula.  We recently switched Nate from a brand name to the Babies R Us generic (our pediatrician said this was okay and it's great because we're saving tons of money - nearly 50%) so I wanted to go specifically to Babies R Us.  And of all the places to go with him, that feels second best to my parents' house because if I happen to forget something or run out of formula or diapers on the road for some reason, I'm at Babies R Us! I can just buy some!

What I didn't count on, though, was rain.  Not just rain.  Showers.  Torrential downpour.

I get Nate and I in the car.  He's dry because I draped a receiving blanket over his car seat carrier.  I'm wet because how was I going to hold an umbrella plus his carrier, the diaper bag, and my purse?  But we're in the car and we're going.

It's raining hard and getting harder as we go along.  As the rain begins to beat harder and harder, so does my heart.  Did I make a huge mistake?  As my car starts stuttering and acting up, my mind starts racing: what do I do if I get stuck?  It's one thing to be stuck by myself, even in a downpour.  But with a baby?  Am I a terrible mother for even attempting this outing?  Or am I being stupid?

About halfway there, after passing through two flooded sections of the highway and more car stuttering, I start tearing up.  I should have waited or just spent more for the name brand formula at the supermarket.  I felt stupid - and considered turning around a dozen times.

But we were out, so we stayed out.  We get to Babies R Us and it's raining hard.  I secure the blanket over him again and hustle into the store.  By the time we get in, I'm pretty soaked and Nate looks completely confused.  He makes a great confused/somewhat angry face:

At brunch on Sunday... and clearly displeased about not getting any pancakes.

But we're inside.  I load up with two cans of formula, a cute pair of sneakers for Nate, and a few other odds and ends.  We get to the register and I'm thinking about what route I should take home if the highway is still flooded . . . when I realize that my wallet is not in my purse.

Crap. Crap. Crappity crap crap.

So I tell the cashier that it might be in the car, but that if I'm not back in five minutes, just re-shelve my stuff.  I cover Nate up, dash out to the car, pop his carrier into the car seat, open the passenger door, and find my wallet on the passenger seat.  I put it in my purse, close the door, open up Nate's door, get him back out, and hustle back into the store.

Now, it was raining this whole time and I still had no umbrella so now I was really soaked.  It looked like I took a shower with my clothes on.  I couldn't even wipe my face dry because my shirt was soaked.

So I dripped my way back to the register and paid for my stuff.  Making small talk I say, "Wow, it's really coming down out there."  You know, as if my wet dog appearance didn't give that away.

But you know what the cashier says to me?  "Yes, but we need it."

We need it?  WE NEED IT?!  Well, okay, sure - we do, but... I'm soaking wet here, lady, with a very confused and semi-angry two month old strapped into his car seat like a fighter pilot, so I'm really not feeling any sympathy for the dry grass right now.  I just want to get home, get changed, and dry off.

Which is what I did.  I took an alternate road home (a toll road, but who cares - at least it wasn't flooded), brought Nate inside (who, thankfully, was sleeping), changed into sweats, and plopped onto the sofa with a snack.  Happy that was over and that we made it home alive and with what we headed out for, I swore to stay in for the night.

And then a text comes in from the hubby: Want to go over to my brother's house tonight?

Sure.  No problem.  *sigh*

Yesterday I did something amazing.  I drove our car.  By myself.

(NB: Yes, that is "our car" singular.  My car is dead.  After spending $5k on it a couple of months ago and another $2k on it back in the fall, now the transmission crapped out.  More on that particularly frustrating situation at another time.)

So now our only car is the hubby's Mustang convertible, which we just bought in November because his car needed daily repairs.  It's "our" car, but the hubby drives it primarily.

Except last night.  Last night, I drove a whopping six blocks to the supermarket.  To understand the joy of this excursion, ponder this: it was the fourth time I've been outside - literally outside - in nearly three weeks, and two of those other times were for doctor's appointments (one for Nate, one for me) and the third was a trip to the hospital to see my grandmother.  I suppose there was a fifth outing if you count coming home from the hospital.  But, really, if that's what we're counting, you can imagine the desperation.

I've always loved my independence and, in particular, having my own car and being able to take off at a moment's notice.  But now?  Not only do I not have a car at my disposal, if I did have one, I would have to pack up Nate with me unless the hubby was home to stay with him.  Since I don't have a car right now, I haven't yet experienced the whole "pack up the baby by myself and try to accomplish something at a store" thing.  I'm a bit nervous about it, honestly, but it's not even a question until we solve my car problem.

But last night the hubby was home and I needed groceries - specifically, baking supplies, which the hubby gets nervous buying since he knows they need to be very specific.  So while he stayed with Nate, I got behind the wheel of our car and drove to the supermarket.  I hadn't been behind the wheel in over two weeks (you can't drive for two weeks after a c-section).  Getting in the Mustang and buckling up made me feel like Thelma . . .  or Louise (whoever was driving).  Except instead of driving off a cliff, I was buying produce.

FREEDOM!  Fruit and eggs and sugar, oh my - freedom!

It felt thrilling . . . but weird.  In addition to it being the first solo car excursion in what feels like a lifetime, it was also the first time I wasn't in the same place as Nate . . . EVER.  Since he was born, we've been together.  Even when he was in the nursery at the hospital, it was right across the hall from my hospital room, a mere eight feet away.

In retrospect, I'm glad the supermarket is so close.  I'm not sure I'm ready to go any farther from Nate.

single but not so ready to mingle

actually, not allowed to mingle at all until he's 35, thankyouverymuch

(and, yes, that's glitter on his eye - no idea how it got there)