The Day Begins With Me Half-Naked in My Building's Stairwell

Because I am slightly afraid there is Someone Out to Get Me, I take the stairs in the morning when I go to the gym. I have this fear that I will be in the elevator at 5:20 a.m. and it will stop on the, I don’t know, 4th floor and the doors will open and someone will pounce in with a knife and slash me down to the first floor. Completely irrational and completely unfounded, but the older I get the more I become aware of vulnerable positions, and being in the elevator alone at the crack of dawn, even in my safe, doorman, locked building, is a vulnerable position.

So this morning I am going down the stairs and, ever the multitasker, I start to tie my comfy, roomy, stomach-indulging drawstring gym pants, as I do every morning on the stairs. I fumbled for a few seconds, trying to gather the string ends with my tired fingers, and then I realized my pants were inside out.

Here’s my quandary: I can’t go back up to my apartment and turn them inside out and leave again because that qualifies as Backtracking. And I such a firm believer in not Backtracking that even a floor out of my way, I won’t return. [discuss amongst yourselves] You can imagine the panic attack I once had when Nicole accidentally drove past the highway exit we were supposed to get off at and the next one was twenty miles away. Forced backtracking is the worst.

I thought maybe I would just wear them inside out. But then I noticed the seam is very visible and there is a giant tag I the middle of my ass, looking like a primordial tail of sorts. I tried to rip the tag, but I felt that sort of tug that indicates that if I proceed with this plan, the tag will indeed rip out along with a nice big hole in a place I don’t want a hole. So what do I do? Can’t go back upstairs; can’t wear them inside out. Solution: Right in the stairwell, between the second and third floors, after listening carefully for anyone and silently slipping off my sneakers, I pulled my pants off, rendering me naked from the waist down for two seconds, turned them inside out and put them back on the right way. This is not as daredevil as it seems, as no one is awake at this early hour in my small building and the stairwells are wide enough and private enough that even if I did hear someone, I could change quick enough to avoid any awkward situations. Or at least out-run them, which would result in me naked on the street, which is its own set of challenges, I suppose.

Sunday was the girls’ Long Island Birthday party at Aunt Lizzie’s. It was small, with just family and friends, most of whom we have known for at least two decades. The heat was horrendous, but the kids all managed to stay cool by swimming in the pool. Us adults wilted, moving between the air conditioned comforts of the indoors and the sweltering, baking heat of the outdoors.

Liz made all the food and it was all fabulous. She is an amazing cook. There was couscous salad; orzo salads; green bean and potato and lemon salads; homemade guacamole, tomato, basil and mozzarella; wet and dry ribs; grilled chicken; burgers and hot dogs for the kids. She grilled up onions and peppers and veggies. It was incredible.

We didn’t get home until after 8:00. W-a-y past bedtime for the girls, and dangerously infringing on bedtime for Nicole. The girls played with some of their new toys for a while. A new addition is a baby doll, which Avery kissed multiple times (this kissing thing is brand new!). Madeline was frustrated with the doll because the doll has a pacifier and Maddie kept trying to use it. They received lots of fancy, shiny new toys but the standout favorites so far are tissue paper, wrapping paper and boxes. Still.

Today is all about getting them back on a normal schedule and getting three solid meals into them, since they skipped dinner last night. Tomorrow is their one-year doctor’s appointment. That is about as far as I can look ahead in the schedule without feeling overwhelmed.

Pictured above, getting ready to blow out the candles on their cake. That’s the dress I had strapped. The cost was $55 to make those two straps and re-hem the bottom. Highway robbery, I say. Below that, Madeline in oh-so-chic sunglasses. And below that, Avery, in her ultra-adorable SPF 50, floating swimsuit, asleep in Aunt Lizzie’s arms. Maybe it reminds her of the womb. My womb, specifically. It better be my womb she is thinking of.