The Romans are Leaving

The Indianapolis Museum of Art has had a show up for the past couple of months, Roman Art from the Louvre, and I really wanted to see it, but Sabine arrived a tad early and just a week into its run, so going before she arrived didn't work out, and then I felt all squeamish about taking a newborn to an art museum, and Arabella was acting like ... Arabella, so we didn't go. But this is the last weekend, and the newspaper showed it would open at 10 am, and Arabella has been behaving better since I cut chocolate out of her diet, so I decided to go for it. I packed up the girls, and we arrived just after 10 am, to find the lobby of the IMA packed, and to discover the museum would not be opening until 11am! I later discovered that the reason for the discrepancy is that the museum powers-that-be have been deciding arbitrarily which days to extend hours, leading to some disgruntled staffers, unsure when they are supposed to arrive at work from day to day. Not to mention quite a few disgruntled patrons.

So I am at a cramped museum show with two small children (one, thankfully, fast asleep in the stroller) and a stroller the size of a Hum-Vee, and fielding such comments from Arabella as "He has ears like Mr. Tumnas," and "what happened to his arm/head/nose?" and my favorite, right behind a flock of elderly ladies, "that boy has a penis." And I responded, "well, no, his penis got broken off, but he does have a scrotum." And I wonder where Arabella got her literal nature.

But it was a great show, Arabella was pretty patient with the crowds and the waiting, and Sabine never woke up until we were at McDonald's afterwards, Arabella's reward for putting up with Mommy's desire to torture her at a crowded art exhibition.

Murphy's Friday

Yesterday I needed to run errands. Murphy's law came with me. I went to the bank, to make deposits, and found I had no deposit slips, so I had to enter the bank, with both kids in tow. I went to the post office, and found a longer line than the week before Xmas. I only needed an additional 3cents in postage, but had to wait in line for 20 minutes while Arabella cracked up over the security mirror and pointed past a strange mans head saying "there's Tinkerbell!" I got to Costco, wanted to get gas, but couldn't find my Costco card until I had left the gas pumps (drive back, pump gas, return to parking area to shop). I got inside, wanted to refill my prescription vitamins (really, my vitamins are prescription. I'll bet that's what all the professional athletes say too), and didn't have my new insurance card with me... I kept having to remind myself not to forget the baby somewhere, that would have been in keeping with my day. The good news was no one was lost, needed stitches, or and other emergency.