When an Amtrak Riding Mom Travels Alone to DC

Sometimes when I return home from a trip-wait, no.Typically it’s a unit of “we” returning home from a trip; let’s start again. When an Amtrak riding Mom travels alone to DC, what will she do?

I went to a town that I love more than any other town, funny because it’s not even a town. Or a city. Or, hell, even a state. The founding fathers were weird.

DC: where my past visits have often included at least an hour of aimless, destination-free Metro-riding. Just sticking my fare card into the slot makes my heart do the electric slide. But when I hop a line without having to double-check the map, that’s when my brain does a boogie woogie. Once, years before the Small People entered Life, Stage Left, I rode the red line from end to end while JB and our friends went to a museum.

So happy. (Offers cheese and crackers to the fare card sitting next to me on the couch.) Okay, I’m weird, too.

On Wednesday, Momsrising had an event planned aimed at reminding legislators about the importance of early education, but I got to leave early for DC, because JB rocks like granite.

By the way, Clay Aiken was on my train,

Continue reading