March 3, 1991

At first I think about staying home, sitting at my desk, reorganizing my personal materials.  But I crave a change of scenery, so I decide it'll be a family road trip to Milwaukee.  A sunny day is enough to give me the fever.  Listening to 50s and 60s Atlantic soul, JoAnna and I discuss our plans to flip-flop rooms.  We even decide to eliminate the pantry.  Less than 10 miles from our destination, I'm ready to make an 180 turn, race back to Middleton, and begin moving furniture.  It's only a fleeting thought.

Once I drop off JoAnna and Andy at the Bradley Center, I drive to a parking ramp just south of Grand Avenue and meander my way to the third or fourth elevation until I find a satisfactory writing place.  I change Eddie's diaper and then carry the fussy guy to the Spiesgarten, or whatever it is the food court is called.  I find a rest room, fill a plastic bottle with water and three measured scoops of formula to the six-ounce line, and find a seat with a dizzying view of the main level 60 feet below.  Once Eddie drinks his fill, he scopes out his unfamiliar surroundings with the most endearing set of bugeyes.  I strap on the chest carrier -- it obviously has a more descriptive name -- and circle the food court, stopping at Orange Julius to satisfy my thirst.  At this point, I begin to lose my enthusiasm for the day's developments.  Walking along level 3, I feel as though Eddie isn't enjoying our time together.  We return to the van, and I struggle to get him back into his car seat.  I suppose there were any number of more constructive ways to spend the afternoon out.  I decide to see what the planned city of Greendale looks like.  I drive west on Greenfield Avenue through West Allis, realizing the closer I get to I-894, the farther away from my intended destination I am.  I eventually discover a most interesting and unique community -- gotta read that book -- and even check out the new public library, all the time listening to the Bucks game on the radio to time my trip.  I return downtown with slightly more than a minute of game time left, find a parking place across the street from the Bradley Center, and scan the crowd for a familiar mother-and-son combo.  Earlier we had made arrangements to reconnoiter at Turner's.  When Eddie and I enter this place, I'm assaulted with a bass beat that would singe the hair off anyone unfamiliar with Stray Dog.  (Hey, Eddie's my son.)  I lose it anyway.  Andy's bouncing off any available surface, and JoAnna has obviously been pushed to the limit.  Surprisingly, the drive home is relaxing; our boys sleep peacefully while we listen to my Motown pick hits.

Once we get home, it's renovation time.  I remove the pantry cupboard and reorganize the kitchen cupboards.  JoAnna takes care of the utility room.  We are serious about regaining some privacy in our lives.