In the interest of full disclosure, I’m typing this in my pajamas. It’s noon. I should be showering and doing the 85 loads of laundry that accumulated over the weekend. But, if I don’t journal this now, I’ll loose half the details down my garbage disposal.

This weekend was Meredith’s good friend Clare’s fourth birthday party. Clare’s mom Jill E., planned a fabulous celebration for Clare at the American Girl Store in Chicago. We left Saturday morning and made the trip into the city. One great thing about living near Indy---Chicago is only a three hour drive.

Bitty Baby enjoying her tea...

We saw a play staring Bitty Bear, had lunch and cake at The American Girl Café, and then emptied our wallets to stifle the tantrums. I had a big talk with Meredith that we would buy Bitty Baby an outfit and that was it. We weren’t going to buy a doll and she was very good about not asking for one until…until...

Until, I took her to see the dolls in their historical vignettes. The dolls are posed behind glass with ALL of their accessories on display. In Merdi’s defense, she didn’t ask to go to this section. She didn’t even know it existed. It was my big idea. As soon as we hopped off the escalator Meredith spotted Kit Kittredge in all her glory.


In further defense of Meredith, she has poured over the American Girl catalogue for the last year, and always lands on Kit. The pages are usually worn from repeated thumbing. I knew we would eventually take the plunge, but Merdi’s really far too young to truly appreciate, read “take responsible care of,” a big girl doll. I made this clear to her on several occasions.

Meredith made a bee line for Kit’s case, and was a sobbing, slobbering mess within seconds. She was over tired and crying to the point I thought she might be injured. The store is so crazy I assumed someone accidently squashed her toe. I was wrong. It was a tantrum. I took her around the corner to try to calm her down, and what was showing but a preview of the Kit movie. Helpful. When I could get her to speak between sobs she let loose that she was sad because, “Mamma, you spacificawy said I not getting a doll, onwy an outfit for Bitty Baby. I wanting Kit my whowe wife, and I’m so sad.”

After 15 minutes of weighing my options and Jill confirming I could live in their basement when Brandon sent me packing; we bought the doll. Meredith was deliriously happy and couldn’t wait to spring Kit from her box. It will make it really easy to shop for Meredith’s birthdays and Christmases now because Kit has a list of accessories a miles long. Meredith wants them all.

We were a big group and finding a child-friendly restaurant near Michigan Avenue that will accommodate such a group left us one option. So, we had dinner at the Rainforest Café, which proved to be a huge hit with the girls. (The couple and their docile toddler at the table next to the large fish tank should have sat somewhere else.) The girls so enjoyed their cab ride over they were very disgruntled about walking back to the hotel.

Out of sheer exhaustion, the girls all took their baths and went to sleep with little objection. After a good night’s sleep a smaller group of us met Jill’s friend from college for breakfast. Again the girls did really well and couldn’t wait to take a cab back to the hotel. We made a quick stop at Starbucks. While Jill waited in line Angie, Stacey, and I took the girls out to the itty bitty sidewalk patio. In a shining moment of parental judgment, I told the girls to sit at a little table. Only to immediately realize I’d seated them next to a pit bull, who was chained next to his owner. The dog was wearing three collars and two leashes. Not generally something you see on a beagle.

On the way home, Jill and I took a little scenic trip through Northwest Indiana. I don’t recommend it. 65 South was closed off the Skyway, and it was the most poorly marked detour in the history of the interstate. We finally made it home around 5:00 p.m. The first thing Brandon helped unload from the car was the big American Girl store bag. The first thing Meredith blurted out, “Daddy! I got Kit Kittredge.” The first thing I did, was ignore them both.