I am dancing along my own private freedom trail at this very moment. Daniel has left to rent a paddleboard for the weekend and pick up some Lebanese food. Nora slumbers sweetly (although preceded by ample tears) in her crib. The whir of the monitor and the tapping of these keys are the only sounds I hear.
I am alone. Blissfully alone.
My baby is not in the bed with me, attached to me in any way, in a backpack on my chest, nursing every hour all night long, nursing for hours for each nap or attempted nap, being held over my shoulder in the middle of the night as she wakes when I need to use the restroom (and I was terrified that she'd roll out of the super-high bed)...no, she is in her crib. Unable to fall, escape, or come a'milking.
It is my version of euphoria.
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So, this will be my final Boston post. The dirty clothes are already in the hamper (Nora is quick to attack the suitcase upon opening). The last pictures have been transferred onto a hard drive. We've switched back to cloth diapers (my goodness disposables are easier on a trip!).
It all came to an end this morning at dawn as our merry trio sleepily hopped into a cab and headed to the Logan Airport.
And how had we spent that final day? Sight-seeing, of course.
A zither, a lute, and some lions, oh my.
The Museum of Fine Art was very fine indeed. Nora managed to make our $22 entrance ticket last about 22 minutes. I joked with her that the experience was $1 per minute...even the time spent in the bathroom was expensive. In every grand exhibit room, Noodle demonstrated her loudest screech. And let me assure you, it is LOUD. She was as enamored with her screaming echo as I was with the art.
I gave her a crawl break in the modern-art section. Thinking the colors and shapes would stimulate her mind...but they seemed to simply amplify her volume.
It was almost too perfect that as I laid eyes upon my first Mary Cassat mother/infant paintings, Nora was hurling her most tingling-blood-curdling screams into the chilled room. It was also my mother's birthday. So, there I stood with Noodle's painful oral daggers in my ears breathing in the soft gentle reverent mothers painted with soft strokes...holding sweet (and presumably quiet) babies in their arms.
After Daniel came home, we took off for Boston Pubic Library and the Italian gardens tucked into a courtyard. It was spectacular. Now this is a library!
And after all is put away (Nora loves hopping into the suitcase when she's pulled everything out), monitors plugged back in, pictures loaded, and the final blog post nearly written, it still feels warm and joyous to have taken this trip. The bumps and bruises of the sleeping realm are not enough to deter us from travel.
Besides, only in this renaissance of our co-sleeping would I have been able to see Nora in the wee hours of morning, moving her hands to the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" song she's hearing in her dreams...or watch her pick her heavy head up from the bed, look up at me, pat my face to confirm I'm still next to her, and collapse again.
Ah, Lulu Bell - we'll hit the road again soon...Mama might just have to drink more wine.
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