Anyway, this weekend, we took Eli to a train extravaganza at the Jackson train depot. It's called the "Heritage Tour", and I guess this train, which is a museum inside, is traveling across the U.S. and stopping at several depots to commemorate Amtrak's 75 years. Just so happened that it stopped in Jackson, MI this weekend. That's right...our proud little depot, which sits across from famous Jackson watering holes Coney Island and Potter's Gentleman's Club was chosen as a stop for this traveling museum. Aaaand since it was 80 degrees out and Eli has a slight obsession with trains, we thought, hey let's mosey on down.
So, I'm not sure if I've mentioned lately, but I'm very pregnant right now...very pregnant and uncomfortable...very pregnant, uncomfortable, and awkward behind the wheel of a car. So, I'm trying to find a parking spot at this train-a-palooza. I drove into a parking lot by the station and it was full, so I decided to back 'er up and continue my search. So, I pulled behind a car to get ready to back 'er up, and then I apparently blacked out. Okay, not really...but my 16 year old self took over behind the wheel and hit the gas when she should have hit the brake and hit the car in front of me...the parked car. Stupid 16 year old me. I honestly don't know what happened. I pulled behind the car, baby kicked suuuuper hard or elbowed or pile-drived my kidney or whatever, and I was temporarily insufficient to handle heavy machinery, and I hit a car. I HIT A CAR! Okay, so I was going 2 miles an hour and no one was hurt or strained or driven to labor by brief moment of 16 year-oldness, but I did put a dent in the bumper of the car, oh and ours, too. Baaahhh...I hate my stupid self. So, after I determine that I, in fact, did not just give birth and that everyone is okay (including my poor father, who was in the car, too, and who I'm sure had Nam-like flashbacks to when he was teaching me how to drive), I consulted with my attorney (my dad), called the police to see if they had to come out (which they didn't because it's private property), took pics of the debacle, wrote my info down and stuck a note on the impaled car's windshield praying that the owner of the car is a rational person who will not make me cry for hitting his/her car. I have yet to receive a phone call from said vehicle owner.
So during this whole scene, my child was perfectly calm and serene. He even offered to give me a back rub. Oh wait, that's right, he was hysterical. One moment screaming for "GAMPA...GAMPAAAA!!" the next "CLOSE THE DOOOOOR!!! MAMA, CLOSE THE DOORRRR!" the next "NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO" the next "GET ME A DRINK!!" Just kidding on the last one, but he did need some sort of sedation to help him through this crisis which will forever leave a black mark on his fragile psyche.
Then, as if he could hear my panic attack coming, my dear husband called. You know when you're sick or had a bad day or hit a parked car and you hear that one person's voice who can stir the deluge of emotion just kind of hanging out there and then you burst into tears? For me, it's my mom and Ben. So, Ben calls to tell me he's coming down to the train station on his break to see us and I tear up and tell him that I'm an unfit mother whose keys should be taken from her. I honestly felt like a crack mother who took a joy ride with her child...I felt AWFUL...for the rest of my life. Ben's response was perfect. He wasn't mad, he wasn't chastising...he was understanding and gracious and lovely. I love that guy.
So, we found a parking spot in the middle of a field away from any other cars (I'm not joking) and enjoyed the train-a-palooza. Eli was not too thrilled about the museum inside the train, mostly because there were people in it he didn't know, scary mannequins, loud sounds. At one point, we walked into a car where there was a recording of a conductor yelling, "ALL ABOARD!" and Eli looked at us with fear in his eyes and said, "No, no not all aboard...NOT ALL ABOARD!!!!!!!" He did have fun inside the depot where they had Chuggington train tables set up for kids to play with and a big electric train table. He loved it.
So that's my tale. It's harrowing and I'm expecting Lifetime to call for the rights to it at any moment. Until then, you can enjoy my pics from the event (sans the ones I took for my insurance company).
"For the love of all that's holy, NOT ALL ABOARD!"
Scary mannequin...1 o'clock.
Completely enthralled by the electric train display.
Oh, and remember my midwife told me to be ready to have this baby at 36 weeks? Good times. I am officially 38 weeks pregnant with no signs of labor in the near future...so there's that.