DC

Last week in Washington D.C. I went to the Macy's close to The White House. I asked for their cheapest possible sheet and told them I didn't care what color it was. The salesperson looked at me strangely but led me to a deeply discounted post-Christmas sale bin, where I found exactly what I was looking for. Sky blue, twin, fitted and only $5.
The reason we had to buy a sheet is because in a moment of panic I covered up a pile of dog vomit with the old one. I didn't want the ballet trained bellboy to see our family as any more hopelessly domestic than he already did. So at the very moment we knew the upchuck was inevitable, eyes bulging with embarrassment, I dove to bodyblock the retching dog from view and cover the evidence as Brett distracted the bellboy across the room with a $5 tip. Per his training he was being extremely gracious. Telling us all the complimentary things the hotel had just waiting for our every whim. Showing us how to dim the lights and listing the in-room spa services. We tried to smile and listen, but really we were just willing him to leave us alone with our unmatched pile of luggage, our nervous dog who was slinging hair off in every direction and our gaping kids who were already pushing all the buttons on the entertainment center and throwing off their shoes so they could jump on the beds.
Sigh.
I really and truly hate to admit it but I think we are more at the Motel 6 end of the hotel continuum these days. It was thoroughly luxurious though, sleeping in that room with the safari grass carpet, the L'Occitane toiletries and the sinfully soft faux animal fur blankets. I have never seen such fixtures in a hotel room. It was located a block away from Embassy Row, and walks around the 'hood were filled with stunning old architecture and grand stonework. The room was almost too good though...that combined with the freezing temperatures and wind chill made the kids never want to leave. Why see the Smithsonian when you can build killer forts with designer pillows and swipe silk tea bags at coffee time?
We did, however, manage to drag them away from the hotel room for some sightseeing. We toured the Bureau of Printing and Engraving, The Postal Museum, The Museum of Air and Space, the National Zoo, climbed the Washington Monument and walked around the White House. They might say their favorite part was the really long escalator going into the metro station at Dupont Circle. Or the breakfast croissants at the bakery across the street. Or taking a bath in the hotel bathtub/spa. Sigh. Kids. Maybe it is my fault though--we are starting history from the beginning and haven't done any American History yet. They don't have much of a context yet for what Washington D.C. has to offer.
Whoever wasn't with the kids was spending 10 or 12 hours a day at TRB, Transportation Research Board, a week long conference on all things transportation related. My time at the conference was spent using biofeedback to try and not get too hot since I was wearing a non maternity business suit from about 1990 that didn't zip all the way. No matter what the temperature, I couldn't, under any circumstances remove my jacket to reveal the bare skin between the 6 inches of pant zipper that wouldn't zip and the pants that were hiked up over distended belly, Martin-Short-like. Lest you worry that I was hopelessly dated, I freshened up my look with a foxy blouse (last year's style) from my friend's boutique, so I wasn't totally vulnerable to being singled out by the fashion police. My friend has spent years of her life trying to get me to use more hair spray, thicker mascara and wear tighter clothes. Usually this advice is spot on, but in my current state of breeding I found myself struggling between a blouse that strained at the buttons to stay closed and those pants that I already mentioned. My other embarrassment was my name tag, which was supposed to read: name, affiliation, state. Mine was name, name, state--I am not currently affiliated with a company and in a hotel full of non-gestating, full time professionals from large firms, prestigious universities and national organizations I felt a bit out of place. I compensated by getting a pedicure during my break and having lots of snacks from the cafe.
Brett's time at the conference was slightly more relevant--he met someone he interviewed with before we came to New York and also joined a national bridge inspection committee. I won't go into it here, but both of us marvel at how uninterested we are in civil engineering in general. There are pieces of it that interest us--I found myself drifting toward urban planning seminars, environmental concerns and transportation in developing countries.
The best moment of all though was when I checked out of the hotel. I loaded up frolicking kids and hairball (on his new sky blue sheet). I shoved all our precariously packed bags into the trunk. Then I got into the car and started it. Nothing happened. I vaguely remembered this happening to Brett once--he had had to call his office and find someone who figured out the car wouldn't start unless you locked and unlocked the doors with the keyless entry three times then clapped and wiggled your nose. Or something like that, I couldn't exactly remember. I called him 6 times but he must have been head bobbing in an engineering seminar and wasn't conscious enough to register his vibrating pocket. The concierge and valet guys were starting to look nervous between elegant door openings. They wanted me to remove the beater of a Honda full of dependent creatures from their valet lane...I had no choice but to ask them for help. Two of them tried and failed. They finally located the one who had parked it originally for us. He had called Brett our first night to ask how to start it and knew the magic spell. So it started, and mercifully, I picked up Brett and we headed back to our city, many credit hours richer than we had been the week before.