And so it began last night with a post-dinner trek to LAX to pick up my mother who's visiting me...and just me...for the next six days. There was a fear in her voice that the bag she checked wouldn't be in the baggage claim--lost back in Baltimore due to some tragic TSA mishap. Fortunately the concern was unwarranted and we were soon on our way.

It had been a long day of travel so she crashed on my bed after some brief conversation and I slept on the couch. I can't get any days off work these days, (a tragic byproduct of a job I [lies]dearly love [/lies],) so she's scooting around town in my car and I'm driving Liz's G35. No reason to make mom rent a little ford focus with Liz still in Boston.

Fifteen minutes after I get to work my phone rings. "I'm driving and I can't move the seat in your car. My feet hardly reach the pedals now." Probably a problem best resolved before driving. Logic never rules the day in mommapalooza.

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