If you’ll recall, we went camping in Door County last year for Labor Day and again this past June. If you can’t tell, we kind of like that part of Wisconsin and that state park, in particular. The only downside to the previous campsites we used was they were really close to their neighbors. You could see other people’s tents, hear other people’s conversations and watch kids bike up and down the road. This time, we decided to aim for a more remote campsite. One that was also along the water.

You can probably guess that these campsites are high in demand. So, last year, 11 months to the day before our intended arrival to Door County this year, I went online to make our reservation (you can only make reservations 11 months in advance). Somehow, I nailed it and landed possibly one of the best campsites in the park. Check out our view from our fire pit:

Yes, that’s right, we had a view of the water. Not only that, our campsite was one of maybe 10 on our access road, which meant limited car traffic AND our particular site had a short drive up to the site, which meant our site was invisible from the road. It was the largest site I’ve seen there … room for the two trucks, different space for the camper and tent, and even different spaces for the picnic table, fire pit and beach (though the beach was public, we only saw a handful of people all weekend). Needless to say, we did a lot of this:

Sweets and I might have ventured into town one day in search of some additional food bits and camping gear we forgot to bring. Oh, and I might have stumbled on a pair of these:

They’re shoes, but look like gloves for your feet. Vibrams have been out for years. Proponents claim the shoes stimulate muscles in your feet and lower legs and have benefits for your entire body. I wore them for a couple days this weekend and kind of loved them. Not sure you’ll catch me running a half marathon in them (though, some people do), but a long walk or working in the garden or even pacing the halls during labor? You bettcha!

But, other than that one trip out, we really didn’t venture out all that much. We’d eat breakfast in town. And then head back to the campsite for reading by the water, kayaking, long walks and lots of eating and chatting with our friends (lots of baby talk as our friends are due with their first two days before we are!). The weather was outstanding (outside of big time storms our last night there). And it was the exact removal from the grid we were looking for. Two funny stories from our trip:

Funny Story #1: Sweets and I were eating breakfast when a local sitting at the table next to us began chatting with us. When he learned we’re from Chicago, he said, Ahhh, FIBs, eh? (Those from Wisconsin and Michigan like to call people from Illinois, in particular from Chicago, FIBs, which stands for Fucking Illinois Bastards). Sweets and I laughed (cuz, the guy was really nice and asking in jest) and then he asked, Or are you FIBTABs? When we looked at him quizzically, he responded, FIBs Towing A Boat. hahaha. Never heard that one before, though I guess we’d be FIBTACs … FIBs Towing A Camper. =)

Funny Story #2: Sweets and one of our friends (a guy) were chatting with another couple walking by them at our outlet to the beach. The couple said this is their first time camping since having a baby. Our (guy) friend said, We’re due in December. Note, neither I nor our other friend (girl) were there, so it was just Sweets and our guy friend. This couple must have thought “we” referred to the two guys. Without missing a beat, the couple asked if they found out the sex. Sweets responded, No, that wasn’t my decision to make, giving no additional hints as to the true couples. As they said their good-byes and the couple walked away, our friend looked at Sweets and whispered, I think they think we’re gay. Did this story seem funny to you? When the guys retold their experience, we all broke out into laughter … it was one of those hysterical moments that carried with us the rest of the weekend … but, maybe you had to be there to find it as funny as we did.

And that’s it. One last item of interest, a belly shot. As you can see, my belly keeps growing. And no, there is no head to the shot. You see those wrinkles on my arm? Yeah, I’d just awoken from a nap and my face was puffy, swollen and wrinkled, too. So, all you get is the belly. =)

We left the weekend with our friends saying to us, “Same place, next year?” Pretty much guaranteed I’ll be back on the website trying to make reservations for next year. Two couples with 9 month olds? It’ll be a blast! Given, I’m getting a late start to an already short week, I know I’m way behind on blog reading. Tell me the most exciting thing that happened to you over your weekend!

Why, you ask? Because, over the past year, I’ve been thinking about the city versus suburbs debate. A lot. More so now that we’re expecting Grasshopper. And it’s tearing me up inside.

It’s necessary to insert a brief background here to give you context for my thoughts. I have always been a city girl. The area where I grew up in St. Louis was very urban. My brother and I learned how to be assertive from a very early age. I went to school with a diverse group of kids from many different socio-economic backgrounds and many different ethnicities. I loved the energy and vibe that came with living in that kind of environment.

And then we moved. To a suburb of Boston. Where there were white picket fences to match all the lily white faces of the people who lived in that town. There was no diversity, no energy, not much of anything (besides a safe environment to raise kids and a great public school system – I can’t blame my parents for making that choice). Though, I quickly found my niche in that town, I never loved it.

The dichotomy of those experiences is largely why I chose to live in an urban center as an adult. I thrive on diversity. I yearn for the mixture of race and class. I love that I can find my place in a city of almost 3 million people. And I fear the demise of that lifestyle.

So, the answer is easy, right? Sweets and I love the city and will stay in the city forever. Why is this even a topic of concern? Because, we might want to own a house one day and we might not be able to live out that dream in the city. And that’s where my heartstrings get yanked around like a yo-yo on crack.

The day we moved into our condo, Sweets began pulling MLS listings for single family homes. I’m not kidding. And while I sometimes roll my eyes at his intense interest in real estate, his curiosity made us realize we’d have to make a lot of concessions to buy a single family home in the city. Compromises like any combination of the following:

• Location in neighborhoods that feel more like the suburbs, despite having city zip codes
• Older homes that need a lot of work
• Homes that only have 1 bathroom
• Lots that are located on busy streets
• Neighborhoods that are not located on any major subway or bus lines, making the purchase of a second car necessary

The list goes on, but I think you get the point. We’d have to give up a lot just to be able to say we own a house in the city. Over the past couple years, as Sweets has continued to investigate real estate options, we’ve come to one conclusion: If we want to own a single family home, given our must-haves for our next home, we will likely need to move to the suburbs (or win the lottery, but that would entail actually buying lottery tickets – ahem.).

And so, with sad faces and bruised egos, we have considered one (only one!) target suburb should we ever decide to move (and trust me, it’s not going to happen in the next few years – this is a long-term vision). Why are we so dour? Why does only one suburb make our cut?

Well, we’re self-admitted snobs when it comes to Chicago. Unlike other cities (I’m looking at you, Boston) where suburbs exist that have history and are diverse and interesting, I can think of one word that summarizes Chicago suburbs: vanilla. Most suburbs around here just aren’t that interesting (to us, I should add – that statement has a lot to do with our expectations and needs).

One reason I fear a move to the suburbs is it’s often equated with a loss of use of the city. Unlike most cities I know, MANY people in the Chicago suburbs hate coming into the city. It likely has a little to do with intimidation and a lot to do with absolutely horrible traffic. The fact is, traveling from the suburbs to the city is inconvenient, which means most suburbanites save trips to the city for special occasions … or worse, not at all.

It honestly breaks my heart. The city is our lifeline. I cannot imagine living somewhere where I’m surrounded by people who don’t utilize it, aren’t interested in exploring it and even badmouth it. The flip side is equally as horrifying … that our city friends will no longer find us convenient and will no longer come to visit us. What a loss!

Getting back to this one suburb we’ve considered. Well, there are actually two suburbs we’d consider. Both locations are on major train lines (both the Chicago subway system as well as the commuter train system). Both suburbs provide interesting commercial & retail centers that remind us of city neighborhoods. Both towns have diverse communities, which are as close to city life without actuallly living in the city. And both places are within earshot of the city, so it wouldn’t feel like we’ve completely abandoned the place we love.

We’ve narrowed it down to one of the two suburbs purely due to my work location. One suburb puts me closer to work; the other suburb would make my commute a nightmare. As I said before, we don’t know when or even if a move of this magnitude will take place. But, it’s definitely something we discuss from time to time. It’s something that remains on our radar.

Tell me why you live where you live (city versus suburb)? Why did you choose your location (proximity to work, ease of getting around, property values, etc.)? What variables might make you change locations from city to suburb or vice versa (change in job, addition of kids, empty nest from older kids moving out, etc.)?

It all started on Thursday after work. My old hair stylist who moved back to Kansas was in town. We caught up for a couple hours and I loaned her my bike for the triathlon she completed this weekend (so she didn’t have to ship hers from KS). Sweets picked me up so we could rush to one of my favorite Mexican eateries to meet another friend visiting from out of town. I went to UNC with this friend, though I didn’t meet him until we both were living in Chicago. He’s now living back in NC, but was in town for business. We had a great dinner catching up with him and getting all sorts of parenting advice!

Just as we were settling into bed, utterly exhausted, my phone rang. It was my brother announcing he was a dad, again. Another baby girl clocking in at 6 lbs 11 oz. He sounded exhausted, but was super stoked he was able to be there for the birth (his flight back to NY was on Friday night and he couldn’t skip it as he was then heading to London for work).

Of course, I was super stoked, too. On Friday at work, I told my boss I’d be taking a half day, so I could swing by the hospital to see my niece. First, it was to a kids store to buy some gifts. Then to a bakery to get some sweet nibbles. Then to a gourmet food store to get some healthier nibbles. And a final stop at Starbucks (the new mama wanted an iced latte, what can I say?!).

I made it to the hospital in the afternoon where I got to spend a precious few hours with my new and expanding family! It was such an honor to be in that room during the first few hours after Baby Zee got to meet Baby Roz. I’d point to the baby and ask Zee who that was, She’d whisper, It’s a baby. Then, I’d ask what was the baby’s name. Zee would respond in a hushed tone, Baby Sister.

OK, I know. You want to see pictures. Did I mention I brought my camera and didn’t stop taking photos the whole time I was there? I’m not kidding. Over 2 hours, I took about 170 photos. I won’t bore you with all of them … just a few of my favorites!

Later that night, Sweets and I had dinner with old co-workers. I brought homemade salsa and guacamole. There was roadside chicken. And beergaritas (I had to abstain – such a shame!). And lots of other good eats. Talk of showers and 50th birthday parties (it’s hard to believe some of my friends are turning 50 – does it count if they don’t act a lick over 35?). It’s a group of people I’ve known for over a decade and just love seeing from time to time.

Saturday morning, we were up early (despite Sweets’ over-consumption of those delicious drinks!). First, we had to get our painter situated. The orange in the kitchen was replaced (loved the orange, hated how it looked with our cabinets). Once he was geared up to go, Sweets and I grabbed SoMi and left town (thankfully, the painter is a childhood friend of Sweets, so we trusted him in our home while we were gone).

We drove to Kokomo, Indiana to visit with dear friends we met while we were honeymooning in Costa Rica a few years ago. Since our time with them was less than 24 hours, we chose to keep things low key. Hanging out. Going to the dog park. Watching too many episodes of Myth Busters (though, the boys would argue we didn’t watch nearly enough). Sneaking in Invictus, a movie I liked during those moments I actually kept my eyes open. And so on. Our weekend with them ended Sunday morning after breakfast, when we hopped back in the car to return to Chicago.

And Sunday. A day of rest, no? Well, actually, no. Not in our house. We got back to Chicago around noon. Stopped by Sweets’ parents’ condo to pick up a tent (to loan to a friend). Met my KS friend at her hotel to retrieve my bike. Got the truck washed. Came home to a kitchen with a beautiful new, green wall! Unpacked. Went grocery shopping. Brought dinner to the girls, so Dan could meet and spend some time with Baby Roz. And eventually collapsed from such a long week and weekend.

Seriously, I’m pretty positive I can’t do this week in and week out. Thankfully, this week involves our regular nonsense (aqua class, soccer game, childbirth class) plus getting ready for our camping trip next weekend and arrival of my mom next week (she’ll actually arrive over the weekend, but won’t be staying with us until next week). If you can believe it, this week feels like it’s gonna be a breeze compared to the week that just was.

Breathe in. Exhale.

Tell me, what was a highlight (or three) of your weekend?

Sometime over that summer before heading off to school, I learned my dorm was the farthest away from most classrooms (but closest to where the Tar Heels played basketball – go figure) and that my roommate was a girl with a strange name from rural Missouri. When I arrived on campus, I discovered my roommate lived a mere few hours away from the part of Missouri where I grew up, that she was of Thai descent and that she was as shy as they get (she spent her first semester leaving campus every weekend to spend with her aunt, despite my often invites to stick around).

But, that second semester? That’s where our friendship was born. We shared many late nights laughing into the wee hours. Weekends spent hanging out with our in-state suite mates. Vacations keeping in touch with one another as if we’d been friends for a lifetime. And you know what? We have been friends for a lifetime. Though, she now lives on the west coast, a far cry from my Midwestern home, we keep up via Facebook. I cannot imagine what my first year would’ve been like if she hadn’t randomly been assigned as my roommate.

I also cannot imagine whom I would’ve chosen for my roommate had I been afforded that opportunity. One thing is pretty much for certain: it likely would not have been who I was matched with. And not for lack of a great roommate. But, on paper, we probably looked like two very different people and I would’ve deemed someone else a better fit for me.

So, it was with dismay that I learned of a growing number of universities that allow students-to-be to choose their perfect roommate. Through websites like match.com, only they’re for incoming freshmen, students fill out surveys and comb through results looking for a roommate. The article I read says students answer questions regarding study habits, overnight guests, tidiness, politics, sexual orientation and religion, among other things. And then, they are matched up with other like-minded kids.

The horror! Being matched up with someone just like you? Just so you think you can avoid being matched up with someone … not like you? What happened to teaching kids how to cope with adversity? What happened to learning from others who are not like ourselves? What happened to the whole self-discovery process, that might only be encouraged by being matched up with someone different from you? What happened to expanding our horizons and growing from new experiences?

Sure, some of that stuff might still take place, even with a preferred roommate situation. But, I can’t help to think that some of it will surely be taken away. Will disappear.

This is not the first article I’ve read that alludes to the fact universities have had growing issues with helicopter parenting (I can’t find a link for the other article, but it discussed issues when parents demand information about their 18-year old children and insist on interjecting themselves to resolve issues related to their children … and schools not giving out that info and not dealing with the parents at all, since those kids are considered adults). In the past few years, housing officers have been besieged by complaints from students and parents who looked up assigned roomates on the Internet and did not like what they saw, whether it was goth makeup or beer cans in the background. It’s parents (and kids) who expect perfect, ideal circumstances for their children. The thing is, life isn’t perfect. And at some point, kids have to learn how to cope and problem solve and, you know, LIVE LIFE on their own without mommy and daddy coming to the rescue.

Sure, there are going to be instances when roommate matches really don’t work (my roommate is doing lines of coke off my bed and waving a handgun in my face – wtf?!), but I think many of the reasons why kids want to switch roommates is to take the easy way out, not because they need to protect themselves. Because they’ve never been taught to stick with something that’s tough. Because they have learned that if they whine a little, they’ll get their way. *shudder* It just seems to me that schools that allow freshmen to pick their roommates are missing the bigger picture and missing an opportunity to encourage their students to embrace diversity, learn from differences and add some self-discovery along the way.

What was your first college roommate experience like? Do you think you came out of that situation a better person or do you think there’s some merit to these roommate-matching services?

You see, for an already busy girl, August has been an exceptionally busy month. Like, verging on the ridiculous. For instance, this week? I had plans or classes or appointments every day after work. Every stinking day. And this weekend? I was telling a friend yesterday what I have planned and it made my own head spin. Dinner with a girlfriend followed by picking up my brother from the airport on Friday. Two picnics followed by meeting up with another girlfriend on Saturday. Brunch with my aunt, brother and hopefully the baby and her mamas, followed by another trip to Buy Buy Baby followed by an other-side-of-the-family gathering on Sunday. And here I am supposed to be relaxing and resting and doing right by my body. Sigh.

But, the thing is, I wouldn’t change any of it. Every night, I tell Sweets of one more set of plans I’ve made. He just laughs, rolls his eyes and shakes his head. And part of me thinks I’m absolutely crazy, too. But, part of me? Doesn’t want to miss out. On that aqua fitness class every Monday. On our childbirth classes on Wednesday. On seeing that one friend from Kansas and that other friend from North Carolina (booked back-to-back next Thursday). On getting together with a dear friend from California and some of our local friends next Friday. On taking an overnight trip to Indianapolis to see friends we met in Costa Rica that Saturday and Sunday. On going to Door County to go camping the following weekend. On juggling a visit from friends with a visit from my dad in October. On taking a baby moon with Sweets later in October. I just don’t want to ignore any of these opportunities.

Because a part of me knows, the rules will change when Grasshopper arrives. And while I like to say that Sweets and I will remain balanced and won’t become all-consumed by child all the time, the reality is, I can’t predict that. And in all likelihood, we will be consumed by Grasshopper for the first few months until we get our footing. And I don’t want to look back on this time as a wasted opportunity to really live it up when we still had freedom. And so? I find myself living it up (as much as a pregnant lady who can’t drink can live it up). And making ridiculous amounts of plans. And cherishing all these experiences we’ve been afforded. And, and, and … taking a small hiatus from Replay. It will return, I’m just not sure when.

Thanks for your understanding and I’ll see y’all on the flip side.