The Weekly Peanut, Issue 68
Like a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest, some tasks are just set up for failure from the beginning.
We'd been planning our trip to St. Louis to visit my family for months. Anyone who's ever had a child knows particularly in the early years, a child's bowel movements are constantly changing and unpredictable. So last week when D's diapers loosely resembled the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust, I didn't really think anything unusual was going on. When D woke up in the morning or came home from school a little cranky and saying "Tummy Ouchie," I just chalked it up to D's everyday drama.
I suppose my first indication that I'd been mistaken in my dismissals was when Ian came home Wednesday experiencing stomach pains of his own. Since my husband's got a pretty sensitive digestive system, I just chalked it up to food poisoning. Surely nothing contagious was going on. I cannot even REMEMBER the last time I had a stomach bug.
My mother drove us to the airport Thursday morning (she house/dog sat for us), Ian was miserable and I was experiencing the first twinges of discomfort. D, however, was seriously the cutest thing I'd ever seen (I guess she was over it). The shuttle between terminals? The one we had to ride twice, because in our intestinal-pain-induced-haze we got on the wrong one? After enthusiastically declaring it the MONORAIL and claiming the front window as her own, D had a new favorite ride.
D continued to make friends at the gate with a little girl. She stole that little girl's books and had me read them to her. D is also trying to count. So far she's only got 3 and 4 down. She loves to look at books with things she can count and say, "Three, four, three, four, three, four..." You're on your way, kiddo!
We lucked out on the plane up with a free seat in our row. D may still be under the age when she can ride free on my lap, but her legs are LONG and keeping her still on a single lap is definitely a challenge.
D got to try her very first lollipop to help with her ears popping. It was a sticky, disgusting, mess, but she LOVED it.
Despite my husband's and my discomfort, the show MUST go on. We rented the car we'd been planning on and got a visit from our friends, the Kress family. D was an absolute champ, even seeming to remember everybody pretty quickly. We also learned that D had a new favorite game, "RING ROSEY!" We hold hands and march in a circle singing "Ring around the Rosey" while D tries to throw herself on the ground giggling every 5 seconds or so.
Friday we split up: the ladies went shopping while the gents went... ok shopping, too, but for beer mostly. We got lots of fun new clothes (covered in Disney characters). Grandma Debbie offered to let D pick out the doll of her choice in the Disney aisle. Imagine my surprise when, among all the options, she picked out Periwinkle from the Disney Fairies. As we strolled through the mall, she leaned out of the stroller to let Periwinkle trail across the floor like she was skating over ice... or randomly dragged her head across the ground, not quite sure what that was about.
Friday night marked our foray into new sleep territory: D is now afraid of the dark. She woke us up at 4 am and refused to go back to sleep in her crib. Or our bed when the opportunity was provided. Thus began the longest Saturday ever, as my husband and I stayed tethered to bathrooms while watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse marathons in between viewings of Frozen and Yo Gabba Gabba Live. Post nap time we welcomed more family. D, despite being a total jerk to her parents the whole morning, continued to be totally awesome to all the new people who wanted her attention.
Saturday night we put in a nightlight. Praise Jeebus. Crisis averted, solid night's sleep (between trips to the bathroom anyway) achievement level unlocked. Sunday morning we returned the rental car. "One mile. You drove the car ONE mile?" The lady at Budget was flabbergasted. We'd had plans for that car, it just didn't work out.
Most impressive development from the kid, particularly noticed over the trip, was D's ability to really string more fully-realized sentences together. "Where Dada go?" "Up, Please!" "Change teevee! Wemote!" That's right, if my kid doesn't like what's on the TV she'll grab the remote, dump it in your lap and tell you to change it. My kid, indeed.
The return flight was not quite as successful as the previous. It was packed, and the poor woman sitting at the window seat in our aisle had to deal with D's almost constant interruptions to her attempts at reading. As I apologized to her for the millionth time as we deplaned, she smiled and assured me that, "Oh no! She's adorable!" I turned to D and warned her, "See, kid, it's a good thing you're so cute, or you'd never get away with these shenanigans."
We survived. We enjoyed seeing our family. I am SO. EXHAUSTED. I'm such a zombie right now, I've mostly written this in autopilot (I'm sure you could tell). I might actually be asleep right now. Is there an echo in here? ECHO...ECHO.... *Sleep Deprivation is no joke*