My life in a word: acceptance

This afternoon I was able to do it.

I took a shower. By myself.

It was wonderful.

The Pie was napping, the mountain man was home. I could get in the shower, shut the door, turned on the water, and didn’t listen for crying.

It was luxurious, warm, relaxing, invigorating. I felt like my old self, and thought about how funny it is that I used to take showers for granted. I got in, soaped up, rinsed off, towel dried, and got on with life.

Now it’s a special occasion to be able to be in the shower without thinking more about listening for the Pie than making sure I washed everything.

I felt… autonomous.

I got out of the shower, toweled off, wrapped my hair and grabbed my robe. I peeked in the bedroom – the Pie was not there. I walked down the hall. The new Ergo was not hanging in the closet where I had left it. I looked outside. The mountain man said he wanted to finish working on his truck and do something to his bike.

And then, I saw this.


I stood on the front porch in horror, then kind of smiling (although disapproving) and then expecting him to see me. I wanted him to see me – and to realize without my saying a word that he was caught red-handed.

He went right past and didn’t notice me.

I quickly but quietly stepped back into the house, shut the door, grabbed the camera and went back out to the porch. He was still at it.

My life with my mountain man, in a word: acceptance.

See also: Get used to it.

DSC_0319 DSC_0320DSC_0321

No, there are not helmets on either of those babies. (They were in the driveway, but still. I was not allowed to kick my kickstand up as a kid without my helmet buckled)

And yes, the tag is still on the Ergo. It’s that new. The tag hasn’t been taken off yet, and already it is complicit in a crime against safety. The warranty is probably void now.

But the mountain man is elated at the comfort of the Ergo vs. the old front pack. Like I’m supposed to be happy about that now. It’s more enabler than baby carrier now.

I closed my eyes, and repeated to myself: Acceptance acceptance acceptance.


  1. Love it! That's what daddies are for-- to toughen us up for the real world. :)

  2. Yeah, I suppose that's what they're there for... mild concussions, scratches and scrapes, early-life ER visits. All in order to prepare a 5-month-old for a life of hard knocks. Thanks, mountain man. I think we're ahead of schedule!

  3. I'm sorry Megan, but this is really just the beginning... My nephew is a month younger then Pie and already a veteran mountain bonfire goer.

  4. If we had a place for bonfires I'm sure the Pie would be a veteran as well. The mountain man has big plans for her for springtime... I almost don't want to know.


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