If you’ve ever planned a move, but the movers didn’t show up to help, you might know how my body feels right now. All is swollen and every muscle hurts down to the bone. My wedding rings won’t budge. I want to stretch my muscles, but when I do, they seize up. I walked down to breakfast looking like the Tin Man who hadn’t been oiled up yet. This is my body’s revenge.
We made memories yesterday. Washington, D.C. is a favorite city for Todd and me, but we weren’t sure how much a 7-year old would appreciate it. Back in 2004, Todd and I had the kind of trip here that you never forget. Grandma (my mom’s mom) was still alive, and she gave us her Metro pass. My dad is today’s equivalent of Google Maps plus Siri, and he helped us maximize our time here with highlighted routes of everything we should see and do. It was around the 4th of July, and we listened to a band play patriotic tunes next to the Lincoln Memorial and Potomac River at sunset. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Whether it’s because she’s a descendent of two history buffs or our excitement was just contagious, Ella’s reaction to our nation’s capitol can only be described as love at first sight. “When my class at school finds out I was here, it’s gonna break the internet!” she kept repeating. “What does ‘national’ mean?” While walking by The Internal Revenue Service, “What happens if you don’t pay taxes? Have you ever not paid taxes?!” At the Museum of American History, “What’s a First Lady? Look at THIS! Can we PLEASE move here?” Delighted to see Dorothy’s ruby slippers, she wondered aloud if they were magical. And when we walked into the room to see the Star Spangled Banner, she sang the anthem softly as she took in the massive size of the flag.
Sweet Evan was a trooper to beat them all. Tired and hungry, he tolerated our outing better than we deserved. I had him so bundled up I had to help push his right arm down, so he wasn’t stuck in a permanent salute. Unfortunately, he’s entered the stage of babyhood that lends itself to separation anxiety. So sleeping in strange hotel rooms hasn’t lended itself to restful sleep the past two nights. That’s putting it mildly.
I’ve been laying down for the last couple hours, hoping and praying for a rebound while Evan gets a well-earned long nap. Today’s agenda is the Museum of Natural History, the White House Visitors Center, and the National Christmas Tree. I’m afraid my body has decided the Air and Space Museum will have to wait for another trip; it’s threatening me that we may have to pull out my wheelchair. But no matter what, I’m determined to meet my sweet cousin Jennifer for dinner tonight. She lives here and is returning just in time from the holiday weekend. When these paralysis attacks began in 2012, she traveled down to South Carolina to help me. That’s also the kind of trip you never forget.
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