I’ll never make a bucket list. I know myself better than that. I’ve said to Dan, “I’m gonna clean our bedroom tomorrow,” for like eight weeks straight. How depressing would it be at the end of my life when I go to see all the things I’ve accomplished, but I can’t find the list because it’s under a bunch of crap in the bedroom that I never actually cleaned.
But, seeing the Cherry blossoms in all their glory in Washington, DC has been something I have wanted to do for years. My childhood BFF lives there and I wanted to visit her anyway, so I decided to plan it around the Festival. I’ve seen pictures of it online and it’s always looked so beautiful, magical even. Like, fairies and gnomes must live in those trees when they are in full bloom. So, I got out my flower crown and princess dress. I was gonna shake the trees, make it rain petals on me and twirl under them like Julie friggen Andrews from the Sound of music. The trees were at their peak and my expectations were high, guys.
Even though last year it would’ve been easier in some ways to go to see the blossoms with Nathan still doin’ time on the inside, I thought puking underneath the magical trees might ruin the moment. Even though I was a bit hesitant to make the three hour drive by myself with a six month old baby, I refuse to let a 17lb tiny human stop me from doin’ life, ya know? Plus, sleeping in the car is his jam anyway, so it worked out perfectly.
The drive was smooth. Nathan slept the whole time only waking up once where he half opened his eyes from his nap, looked side to side all angry and then went back to sleep. It was the first time I saw myself in my son. I met up with my friend and as soon as we got off the metro, I became so tourist-y that the natives be like, “Excuse me, but your fanny pack is showing,” and I didn’t even care.
“Hey Can you take a picture of me with…that thing in the background?”
“That thing? Uhm you mean the Washington Monument.”
“Yep. That’s it.”
Note: “Mom brain” was also at it’s peak that day.
So not only was it prime time for some beautiful pink blossoms, it was also Saturday. And Sunny And 12:30pm. And 63 degrees. It was really the perfect day to see them I thought. The rest of America thought so as well. There were people ev-ree-where. There were literally children in the trees like monkeys just chillen like, “Hey I might spit on your head or I might not depending on if my mom is looking and she definitely isn’t because she’s taking selfies.” I’m an introvert and a slight germaphobe and I had a baby stroller with me, so it was a lot to handle. But I realized that nothing says, “Move it or lose it, sister,” quite like a stroller to the back of the ankles, so it might have actually worked in my favor. Since Nathan is super nosey, I put him in the carrier so he could see everything and whenever all of us sardines were grid locked into a spot, he loved reaching out and touching random strangers. So if you were there in crowds on March 26th and someone touched your butt, it might have been the creepy old guy behind you or it might have been my baby. You’ll never know.
I didn’t get many of the pictures I wanted because It was pretty difficult to take ANY pictures and certainly impossible to do the Julie Andrews twirl without taking out a bunch of other tourists. I am also quite certain I am in the background of many a selfiestick selfies with a major RBF. Overall though, it was a fun trip and nice day spent with my friend and I’m glad I went.
I’ll see you next year Blossoms, on a Tuesday, in the rain, at 4:30am.