Chicago Style Everything

No Keys. I remember placing the keys on the table after I got back from obsessively locking my car in the hotel parking lot ( a nightly Rainman tradition, no matter where I am). Why weren't they there where I had left them? I text Mat assuming that he must have them, but I carefully word it as to not place blame. "Did you see my keys anywhere?" I text. "You're going to kill me." he texts back. Yes. I was going to kill him. And yes, this was not the first time he has taken my keys.

I am forced to take the train into Chicago. Exhaling slowly, this trip won't be so bad for a mother of three, right? Right. It was actually good Mat forced my hand at the train because it was actually the smartest, worrisome ride I could have taken. And, the kids loved it too.



Destination: Children's Museum. As we strolled, we came across some interesting things. When you're on a long walk to the Pier, you tend to notice anything to keep the kids from complaining.

Like this:



Or this:



Finally, we made it to the museum with our fabulous reciprocating museum pass.

Gretchen on the big comfy couch. This was taken after Micah landed head first off the couch. She is howling at my leg as I snip-snap the picture.



After the museum, we met up with Mat at the giant coffee bean and then headed for a traditional Chicago dinner.



We grabbed a dawg at Portillo's- Chicago Style: yellow mustard, a whole pickle, tomato wedges, onion, sport peppers, and a dash of celery salt. It was really good, and I must have been really hungry because hot dogs are not my usual.



And then we ordered a deep dish Chicago Pizza at Gino's east. My fat stage car trip traveling pregnancy has turned into the 2nd trimester. Becket got to graffiti the seat, since the whole restaurant was tattooed head to foot.



The pizza was good. And our warm, full, bellies were entirely pleased.



Now it was a matter of getting our sleep glazed kids to the train without their dead weighted bodies breaking our arms.