I have never taken a major trip without having a 2:1 adult-to-child ratio, so I was nervous about flying to Denver without my Wing Man. The last time Penny flew on an airplane, she was too little to remember. This time, she was well aware of the hubbub in the terminal; all the bustling people, the tension emanating from everyone in the security line, the tension emanating from ME, and the roar of the planes coming and going. Grandpa helped us check our suitcase and the carseat, and we took only the diaper bag and (per the excellent advice of our friends), the umbrella stroller through security so I could prevail over any toddler-dawdling once we were inside the terminal.
Everything went well until it was time to board. I explained to Penny that we couldn't take the stroller on the plane, but we would get it back when we landed. She was distraught when I checked it at the gate, as though I had given away a prized possession. Then as we were boarding, she declared she was not getting on the plane, and went completely stiff in my arms. So I hurried to our seats, with my petrified, hollering child, avoiding eye contact with everyone we passed. I noticed people inserting their earplugs and iPod earphones, to combat the hysterical screaming coming from our side of the plane. Penny would NOT sit. "Noooo!" She screamed. "It too noisy!" "I...(sniff)..don't (sniff)...want..my..(sniff) SEAT BELT!" She was only marginally upset while sitting on my lap, but was furious when I buckled her into her own seat. She screamed for 15 minutes. And that's when I knew I was the mom with that kid. You know, the one who totally ruins your otherwise enjoyable flight.
Flight attendants kept asking (over the din) if I needed anything, and I smiled weakly at them, refraining from requesting tranquilizers. My fight or flight response was so intense, I momentarily considered getting off the plane. But then I realized that was irrational. I paid for these tickets, we're GOING TO DENVER, goddammit. Distraught toddler or no.
And then, from all that effort, she collapsed in my arms. We hadn't even left the runway. She curled into a ball with her head in my lap, still strapped in, and was out like a light. Poor thing. By the time she woke up, we were in the air and well on our way. That's when she realized that flying is fun. Hey Penny, check out this tray table! Guess what? We get snacks! Here's an awesome book I've been saving for just such an occasion! Want to color? I've got new markers!
Tiger by Mommy, cave by Penny.
When we landed, she exclaimed, "I did it!" And someone nearby applauded.
Meanwhile, we had a fabulous time in Denver. I went to a workshop while Penny played with our cousins and took a trip to the Butterfly Pavilion. We also visited the Denver Botanic Gardens, which is festooned with Christmas lights, and they also have Henry Moore sculptures on display. It was a visual feast, and we warmed up with hot cider and sugared almonds. There was much visiting and quality family time, in addition to a long-awaited play date with our friends Eli and Gray, who are even cuter and more cherubic in person. We had an absolute blast.
Flying home was cake for Penny, now that she knew what to expect. We had a frank conversation about seat belts before boarding, and she was the perfect little traveling companion. The couple next to us even said so!
And then, we couldn't land. Literally. The fog (that turns people inside-out) was so terrible in Salt Lake, we had to stay in a holding pattern for 20 minutes above the airport before the pilot finally gave up and took us back to Grand Junction. My brain could not compute this. I had spent my last joule of energy entertaining Penny, first at the gate, and then on the plane. We had already maxed out every possible activity (including barf bag puppets) and now we couldn't get home.
Welcome to Grand Junction, CO.
The Grand Junction airport is small. Their dining establishments consist of a Subway, which had a 40 minute line; filled with hungry people from several other diverted flights. At this point, Penny was impatient and generally opposed to the idea of standing next to me in line. And I was tired. The Subway ran out of bread loaves and had to fill orders with flatbread. We rallied, had a picnic on the floor of the terminal, and waited anxiously for any word of boarding again. Fortunately, a colleague of mine was on the same flight, so I had someone to talk to, to help me wrangle Penny, and to keep me sane. THANK GOD.
Five hours later, we made it home. Britt, who hadn't seen his baby girl for four days, returned to the airport for the second time to rescue us (the first time, he braved the fog and was waiting at baggage claim when our little detour was announced). I was beyond happy to see him.
And now, I feel rather invincible, like I could do anything or go anywhere. I took my child on an adventure and we rocked it. Thanks to everyone who drove us around and hosted and entertained us and fed us. Let's do it again (someday).
My friend Mindy recently came up with a cunning plan to have a surprise tea party for Penny and her daughter, LC. The plan involved covertly packing our girls' respective fancy dresses in our diaper bags and keeping the whole junket a secret. Penny and I spend most of our time lazing around the house in our skivvies, so whenever we get dressed, she thinks it's a special occasion. So she said, "Where we going?" And I told her it was a surprise. This really piqued her interest and she asked 100 more times, "Where we going? A Prise?" Oh yes, the "Prise" of your life, kiddo.
Gimme some knuckles!
So Mindy and LC picked us up, and took us to LC's Grandma Georgia's house, who had prepared a feast fit for two little princesses, complete with miniature homemade frosted cupcakes and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut into the shapes of teddy bears. When I grow up, I want to be Grandma Georgia.
The feast.
These cupcakes are divine!
Incidentally, Georgia has a room in her house dedicated entirely to the whims of her grandchildren, with Raggedy Ann dollies and Fancy Nancy books, and tea sets, and fairy wings for dressing up. Now, I've said before I don't love the whole princess mentality, and I'm fully aware that I'm encouraging it. But seeing Penny playing dress-up with her friend while wearing fairy wings was one of the highlights of my summer. And Penny still talks about her "Prise" at "Grandma George's." That surprise is going to be hard to top. Fairy wings! Eee!
Meanwhile, Penny and I still try to go to the library on my days off, and I'd been kicking around the idea of attending the Preschool Story Time instead of Book Baby, which is our usual haunt. I was worried Penny wouldn't like it as much, because Book Baby has short stories, lots of songs, and most importantly, bubbles. But it also has a lot of babies, and sometimes it can be a little hard to hear the stories and the music over the noisy baby ruckus.
So today, we tried the older group. I noticed most of the moms and dads were sitting toward the back or holding younger siblings, while the other kids were right up front. There was no way Penny was going to sit up there alone, so she sat on my lap and we participated together. The woman in charge read three entertaining stories involving funny birds: Boo Hoo Bird, Chick, and Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! The kids were enthralled. Next came the "Two Little Blackbirds" rhyme I had totally forgotten about, complete with felt blackbirds on popsicle sticks for each child to use, followed by some free play with instruments and streamers. In short, it was awesome. Penny was younger than many of the kids, but about the same age as some of the others. She's right in between the two story groups, so maybe coming to the preschool group will be good practice for school.
I'm having one of those evenings where I have so many ideas, but instead of doing anything productive, I just want to lie down instead. I realized I never raved about Penny's awesome 2nd birthday party, which was the origin of the fabulous bike (trike). Also, even before Penny turned two, I came up with a cunning plan to address the binky, but I am sorry to say the plan has yet to be implemented. I'm working on it, really. Tomorrow is her 2 year check-up, so I'm sort of hoping to avoid the binky topic altogether, assuming my doctor doesn't notice my shifty eyes, which may betray me.
Anyway, the party. This year I wanted to keep things simple, so I wouldn't feel like pulling out all of my hair. This is a tricky thing. On one hand, I like parties, and we rarely throw them at our house, because we prefer to go to other people's parties. On the other hand, Penny will likely not remember a birthday party at her age. So what's a parent to do? Go all out and go crazy, or keep it low-key? I tried to shoot for a happy medium, because we still like a good party.
I chose a duck theme, because Penny is rather partial to ducks, and many of the songs she likes involve ducks in some way. I also decided to include an end-time for the party, so people wouldn't feel obligated to stay late, and so we wouldn't feel like we had to put on an epic bash. We invited friends who also had children, as well as Penny's family. I wanted Penny to have ample opportunities to play with other kids, seeing as how it was actually her party. I bought a little bubble machine (which sort of worked), and provided kazoos and other musical instruments for the kids, and we played a few rounds of Ring-Around-The-Rosy, Penny's favorite. We also borrowed the slide from Penny's Grandparents' backyard. Fortunately, the weather was good. No freak snowstorms! We would have been utterly screwed if we'd had to move the party indoors!
The crowning achievement was something I didn't even do. A friend of ours offered to make a cake for Penny. I told her we were going for a duck theme, with rubber duckies and kazoos as party favors. This is what she made:
Holy crap. I never could have made this. Now the bar has been raised! And it was tasty, to boot!
Our friends gave generously to Penny. She still hasn't caught the vision of politely opening everyone's presents and thanking them before playing with her new things. In fact, I ended up opening many gifts forher, because she was busy trying to play with whatever had been opened previously. I felt lame doing that, but I didn't want the present-opening to drag on too long. Hopefully next year, she'll have learned some more gift-opening etiquette.
Then came the fabulous trike. Penny had been admiring (and trying to take turns with) her friends' tricycles for the past couple of months, so her Grandparents bought her one of her own. It's very pink, and Penny loves it. I like it too, because now instead of the stroller, we can take the trike to the park. I can walk and get my exercise, and Penny can ride. I can usually coax her into doing a whole lap by rewarding her with the swings afterwards.
It's still a challenge for me to be a good hostess. I never get to talk to friends as much as I want to. I had hoped to play more games with the kids, but I ended up letting everybody do their own thing, instead of being the task master. In the end, Penny blew out her candles to a chorus of "Happy Birthday" hummed on kazoos, so I'd call that a success.
Meanwhile, the cunning binky plan is related to the trike, so when that transpires, I will divulge more.
Sometimes I dream of California, and I would live there, if we could afford it, and if I could get used to regularly occurring earthquakes, and if I wouldn't miss the dramatic seasonal changes we have here at home, although after the never-ending winter we've had, maybe I could do without the drama.
Our drive there and back was amazingly smooth, because I focused on keeping Penny fed and entertained. Oh, and we had the binky. She napped a little, but mostly colored pictures with her crayons, read books, sang songs, and talked to her dollies. We made a few pit stops so we could stretch our legs and keep our blood sugar up, and that was the golden ticket.
We stayed one night in Barstow, and were greeted the next day by the eye-popping colors of a state in full bloom. We stayed with my Aunt and Uncle, who graciously put us up in their house, and were treated to the excellent company of two of my cousins, some sight seeing, a trip to the aquarium, a picnic on the beach, and a family game night. It would be unthinkable to get together without playing games!
The weather was gorgeous, and it was fantastic to see the ocean again. Penny handled the beach a little better this time, but was still hesitant to walk on the sand, always keeping one eye on the crashing surf. Eventually, she walked a little on her own (but would not remove her shoes), and dug holes in the sand with some rocks. That's progress, anyway.
Oh yeah, and I worked a bit too, sort of. I attended a conference and it felt good to stimulate my brain and get back in the loop, chat with colleagues, and think about how to apply the things I learned to my job. Meanwhile, Britt and Penny got to spend a lot of time together, without me. (Thanks to my lovely cousin for taking so many beautiful pictures.)
I think they had a good time.
It's always hard to leave when you're having fun, knowing the daily grind is waiting for you at home. The drive back was less fun, but we made one last pit stop to see my good friend in Vegas, and it was a nice overnight respite (hello, hot tub!) before our reluctant return to reality.
I'm amazed at what Penny remembers from the trip. She can recount some of the things we did, like seeing the fish and playing with her cousins (whom she can name), Uncle's train set, the water of the ocean and the sand on the beach. It's all short-term memory recall, but I wonder if she will be able to store these details in her long term memory if we keep talking about them. I wonder how soon we can go back.
In our continuing efforts to make a seasoned traveler of our little one, we took Penny on a road trip to Las Vegas over Valentine's Weekend to visit some friends. It was wonderful to meet up, enjoy delicious food, go shopping, and relax. I love my girls. We've been friends for so long that getting together is one of my favorite things to do.
The weather in LV was so nice, it felt like early summer, and the consumption of mojitos added to that summer feeling. We also ate waffles with bacon IN THEM, at Hash House A Go Go. The portions there are larger than your head.
Behold, the Bacon Waffle. Served with powdered sugar.
Naturally, we were on vacation schedule, and Penny got to stay up pretty late, but by the end of the trip we noticed she wasn't eating much and she seemed a bit crabby. Well, she's probably worn out from all of the excitement, I thought. When we were getting ready to leave, Penny said, "Sick," and pointed at her forehead, in an attempt to sign "sick" to me. I asked, "Are you sick?" and she didn't say yes or no, although she probably wasn't sure how to answer. So again, I thought she was just tired.
In her Valentine's finery, accompanied by a new friend.
Off we went, reluctant to leave, but ready to go home. As we drove, Penny became increasingly fussy, which we chalked up to being stuck in the carseat for another long drive. Britt stopped in Mesquite for a milkshake, so we ordered some french fries, thinking we could bribe Penny with them in the car. But she didn't want them, and she was adamant. That should have been another red flag, because the events that unfolded were a lesson in WHY YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO YOUR CHILD.
We were only a few miles out of Mesquite, when Penny's fussing turned to crying, and suddenly there was a horrible sound, followed by what I can only describe as a waterfall of vomit.
Poor baby. You know how when you get sick, you can pretty much identify the culprit, that item that didn't settle? Well, in this case, it was bananas.
Poor daddy.
Have I mentioned how much Britt hates bananas? He hates them with furious anger. Therefore, True Love is your husband mucking the banana sick out of the carseat on the side of the road, while you sit on the tailgate, trying to clean banana sick off your toddler (and yourself).
Poor mommy.
We were still at least 4 hours from home. I won't describe the way the car smelled, but I was actually grateful she threw up something fruity and not something else, something savory, like chili. However, Britt's hatred of bananas has increased exponentially.
Penny felt so relieved, she slept for a while, and we managed to get home, as the warm weather turned to cold rain mixed with snow. Penny was sick for the rest of the week. She was lethargic and seemed depressed, and didn't want to do anything. She didn't throw up again, but she had diarrhea for three days, and I started to worry about dehydration, which prompted a call to the doctor. Then, as quickly as it came on, Penny was back to her old self, running and playing and laughing and TALKING. We've had a language explosion around here. Gee, I'll take streams of words over banana sick any day, thanks. And in a way, it seems like the whole experience made for a more authentic road trip, because it wouldn't be a family trip without someone getting sick, right? Or was that just my childhood?
This year, I truly felt like Santa, and that was an incredible feeling. I wonder if this is how my parents felt when we were kids? Because this is pretty damn fun. When I was little, I remember lying in my bed, too excited to sleep, watching the numbers on the clock. In the morning, I would run past the living room, covering my eyes, trying my best not to peek at the presents Santa left out so I could see if my sisters were awake, so we could all be surprised together.
This Christmas Eve, I went to bed feeling tired but excited, much like I felt as a child, lying there, too wound up to sleep. When Penny woke up in the morning, she was surprised (and a little baffled) by what was waiting for her:
(Note: The toy box is a present from Santa to ME.)
Penny's too young to understand that Santa brings presents - right now, she knows he has a beard and looks a little like Opa, but he's otherwise a scary stranger. But next year, she might be ready for the whole Santa thing. And as fun as that is, I hope she won't be too disappointed later, once she is old enough to know the whole story. As an 8 year old, I remember feeling disillusioned when I discovered the truth. And disillusionment is a strong emotion.
Now that I'm a parent, I can understand why traditions are passed on. I want Penny to feel the same level of excitement I felt when I was little, waiting for morning to come, running to wake my sisters, so we could empty our stockings and read our notes from Santa, who always wrote something sweet, who seemed to know us so well. And I want the same for Penny, not just so I can relive those feelings from my childhood (which is nice and all), but so the creation of those magical moments can continue, for a little while.
All of the Santa stuff aside, this is the time of year when we can eat, drink, and be merry. Our family was all together, and Penny made out like a bandit. We were also able to catch up with some friends we haven't seen for a while, which is always a good thing.
I always feel sad when Christmas ends. It's a lot more fun to decorate the tree than it is to take it down. The Christmas hype begins in October, but ends promptly once the last present is unwrapped. Compared to the frivolity of December, January seems like "the New Cruelty," as a friend of ours just said today. But we'll leave the tree up a while longer, because that's another family tradition.
Penny and I like go swimming at the community pool on my days off. We go with our friend LC and her daddy, and we try not to think about the amount of pee that must cycle through the pool, but that's what chlorine is for, right? The pool isn't too crowded this time of year, and it has a fun section just for kids, with water features and a slide. As an added bonus, it's good exercise for me, because I'm the one lifting a 25lb toddler in and out of the water.
The first time we went, Penny didn't like the water features, which were spraying water in all directions, and she clung to me like a little monkey baby. But with each consecutive visit, she has gotten more brave and will walk around in the shallow end, let me hold her and swim around, kicking her legs and moving her arms. Our friend LC's dad taught us some of the songs they learned in swim lessons, and that makes it even more fun. There's a version of Ring Around the Rosy that involves, kicking, splashing, blowing bubbles in the water, and finally, dunking our heads underwater. And the dunking isn't too bad, because of the singing!
One of the more challenging aspects is showering in the locker room with a monkey baby. We stand there, shivering, while I try to get the temperature right. Then she gets all slippery and doesn't like the spray of the shower hitting her, but she doesn't want me to put her down on the floor. There are many comedic moments that occur behind the shower curtain. I'm usually more concerned with getting her dried off and dressed than covering myself up, so there's much streaking to the lockers, because if I walk really fast, no one will be able to see me. The last time we were there, I didn't get a diaper back on Penny in time, so I ended up using my towel to mop up the little yellow puddle she left by our locker.
When we are not at the pool, we go to Story Time at the library, where we learn even more songs and check out new books. Story Time is a lot less time consuming because it doesn't involve changing clothes, showering, or streaking.
Meanwhile, Pen has become more defiant in recent days. I know she is testing her limits, but she's been outright disobedient. She had a meltdown last weekend over the binky, and was so screechingly furious it almost resulted in a time-out situation. I was able to defuse things by distracting her with reading and rocking, but I think we might be headed for a real, honest-to-god-TIME-OUT in the near future. And that makes me a little sad, but it is inevitable, right? How else are kids supposed to learn what isn't acceptable behavior? I guess I'm uncomfortable because this is uncharted territory, this discipline stuff. Penny usually listens to me, but lately, seems to NOT hear me. I don't want to be a hard-ass, but I think it is important to be firm. Can you be firm and sympathetic at the same time?
Thanksgiving has come and gone, but before things get crazy with tinsel and lights and carols, I just wanted to say (while it is still technically November) we had a nice weekend with our families and I didn't want it to end. Penny's Auntie Em and her Opa came to be with us, and we spent some time with Britt's family as well. I think I ate my body weight in carbs, and I might have to get out some maternity pants to wear for the next couple of weeks.
When I was little, my family had a tradition where we feasted like kings at my grandparents' house. Grandpa always made pies for dessert, and Grandma made caramel brownies and rice krispie squares with chocolate frosting *drools*. After we had digested somewhat, we'd eat some more and play our favorite games, like Scrabble and Rage.
Thanksgiving changed drastically for us when my grandparents died. For a while, we tried to improvise, but it wasn't the same, and I'm not sure my expectations were realistic. Then my mom died, and we had to figure out how to carry on without her. This continues to be the problem with any holiday, really. Do we stick to the same script, or write a new one? We've had to adapt, which is hard, but my family still gets together, to eat and laugh and reminisce. My Thanksgiving Tradition is to make Grandma's caramel brownies, which are typically devoured over games, which go late into the night. And that makes me happy.
On Thanksgiving Day, I thought about things for which to be thankful. The first things I thought of were Penny, Britt, and my family. Then I thought of my friends. Then I thought about how much I hate our tiny kitchen, but at least we have one, and a house to live in as well. I'm glad I have a job I actually like. I'm grateful that Britt goes to work every day, even though he doesn't always want to.
As much as I hate to admit it, I'm starting to get excited for Christmas, mostly because now we have a reason to start some new traditions, and her name starts with "P," or "Eee," as she says, because she thinks every letter is the letter "E." Penny will be old enough to help us decorate the tree, and there are many treats I want to attempt to make. I'm already tired of the music, though.
This year, we have plans...to go OUT. I'm struggling with a tiny bit of guilt for plotting to go to a party for GROWN UPs. The plan is to take the little one around to friends' houses, so Penny can practice the fine tradition of begging for candy, and then we're going to take her to Grandma and Grandpa's, so they can Trick or Treat together in their neighborhood and put her to bed at their house, while we are out having FUN. I'm not ready for Penny to spend the whole night away from us, so we'll sneak in to take her back home after the party. What could possibly go wrong with that plan?
I've been wanting to get into Halloween more than in years past, partially because Penny is getting older and can understand more things, sort of. She doesn't really know that candy exists yet, and she dislikes Jack O'Lanterns. Also, she can't say "Trick Or Treat," but maybe people will accept her very polite "Please?" Which sounds like "Eeees?"
But the truth is, I have always loved this holiday, because it is the one time of year when it's ok to pretend to be someone you're not. As someone who has only recently accepted the person she's become, this holiday holds a considerable amount of significance for me. My mom, the creative genius, used to come up with the most amazing ideas for costumes. She would start by asking us what we wanted to be, and then try to make our ideas come to life, using ordinary items, or by sewing costumes for us. It wasn't until I was an adult that I actually paid money for a store-bought costume. An adult who can't sew and whose creative genius of a mother has died. But this is not meant to be a sob story.
I distinctly remember my costumes over the years, from the various incarnations of Princess Leia, to the Gypsy Woman whose identity I assumed to attend my first teenage Halloween party. Some of the more outstanding costumes made for my sisters were the Swiss Army Knife, the Sandwich, the Alligator, and the Spider, which was hand-sewn with the right number of legs and lots of googly eyes.
But the first Halloween I remember well was when I was in Kindergarten. I wanted to be a fairy princess, so my mom used my dance recital costume and made wings and a crown out of leftover Christmas tinsel. Penny's Aunt Meg was only 2, so we were Fairy Princesses together, naturally. Our wands were wooden mallets from our toy xylophone with tinsel around them. The best part was the Halloween costume parade at school. I remember walking down the street with the other kids in my class, feeling so proud and so beautiful, just like a real fairy princess.
We've upheld the fine tradition of pumpkin carving, another talent of my mom's. We carved pumpkins at our friends' house this weekend, and feasted on roasted pumpkin seeds, which Penny devoured. She was fascinated by the pumpkins, but did not enjoy the sight after that first incision, when the top of the pumpkin is pulled away from rest, complete with pumpkin goo and innards dangling from the stem. No, she did not like that one bit. Later, she was entertained by the pumpkin's face, because she likes faces, but did not like to see it lit, in the dark, with its glowing eyes.
So we've been having discussions about things that are "not scary." She will be babbling about something, then stop, and look at me with the most sincere and serious expression on her little face, shake her head, point her finger, and say "No, Nair-ie." Nope, that's not scary. Not really, baby.
Goblin Valley is one of our favorite places on the planet, and it's practically in our back yard. In the spring and fall, the weather is perfect, so we try to go at least once a year. Our friends have a really cool pop-up trailer, and they invited us to join them on a little excursion into the Valley of the Goblins.
This trip to the desert was much smoother for Penny than our last venture. She's becoming more independent, so I didn't have a little monkey baby clinging to me the whole time. She also likes her friend Niels, who shares his trucks with her.
Heading into the trailer....
Goblin Valley is truly a geologic playground. We had a nice picnic lunch at the overlook after wandering around the hoodoos. Hoodoo? Youdoo.
Staying hydrated is key for survival in the desert.
Plans are in the works for a return trip soon. It will be fun to see Penny scrambling around the rock formations when she's older. It's hard to imagine her being that big, but she's getting bigger and faster and more agile all the time.
Whenever I feel like complaining about the 7 hour drive we make on a regular basis to Wyoming with our baby, I think of my friend Alisha, who flew from Guam with her baby to visit her family and friends here in the states. She traveled 30 hours ONE WAY with her 10 month old. I have flown once with Penny, it was an hour and a half, and it was the longest flight of my life. I don't know how Alisha did it, but she did, and she was even coherent despite the layovers and time changes and ALL OF THAT FLYING.
Penny liked Xavier quite a bit, and who can blame her? He's really cute and a seasoned traveler already.
Our trip to Wyoming was fine - during the mere 7 hour drive, I honed my skills of entertaining Penny while Britt drove, and Penny did well, although whenever we stopped, she didn't especially want to get back in her seat. We got to see Opa and Grandma Shirley, bathe Penny in their magnificent jetted tub, watch some of the TV shows we never get to watch after she went to bed (I love vacation!), and went on a little outdoor adventure in the badlands for some fossil hunting.
One of the various wind farms along I-80, harnessing Wyoming's most abundant resource.
Britt got to partake in his favorite activity, fly-fishing. Penny and I went up to the fish hatchery, while Britt took to the creek. The hatchery has changed a lot since I was a kid, but you can still feed some of the big rainbow trout, and Penny got a kick out of that.
On the trip home, the travel-sized MagnaDoodle from Opa and Shirley was a godsend. Penny discovered that scribbling and erasing is fun, and I was even able to do some reading on the drive home. Huzzah!
Our recent adventures included a trip to Lagoon for Labor Day, one of our favorite holidays. Penny, who decided within minutes that she hated ALL of the rides, got to hang out with her daddy and mingle with fellow Teamsters, and I got to ride on some sweet rides with my friend Mindy. There was much shrieking and giggling and excited clapping. My heart rate hasn't raced like that a long time, and I had forgotten how thrilling those little shots of adrenaline can be.
Penny didn't even like the carousel, although she might have handled it better if I could have stayed on the horse with her, but that was against the rules. I had to clumsily dismount the horse, and when it was painfully clear she was not going to stay on the horse alone, we were relegated to the bottom caste of the carousel animal kingdom: some little bear with a cart that sort of shimmied unsteadily back and forth. She fussed and complained before, during, and after the ride.
To be fair, we didn't get off to the best start. We thought we'd see if Penny would ride any of the little rides at Kiddieland, but the majority of them do not accommodate parents, so the kiddies have to be brave enough to fly solo. I could have left her on Bulgy the Whale alone, sobbing in distress, but I didn't have the heart to do that to her.
Hopefully by next year, she will be a little more adventurous. I don't want to force Penny to do things she doesn't feel comfortable with, but I want her to enjoy amusement parks as much as I do.
(Apropos of nothing, Penny performing dental work on Po, with a pencil.)
But I had a blast! I want to go again soon. Who wants to go with me?
We're back from our latest series of adventures. A future post will provide more detail about the last few days (when I have the energy to write something), but for now, I have compiled a list of Penny's current likes and dislikes:
Likes: Yo Gabba, Gabba! I knew this existed, but I resisted it, until now. It helps that we don't have cable or satellite at my house, but my dad has a zillion channels at his. Needless to say, we were both transfixed by this:
Personally, I think this is pretty awesome. It is far less offensive to me than Barney. Plus, Penny has learned not to bite friends, as a result of one of the songs on the show. Eureka! That will probably come in handy.
Ok, back to the list of likes: Trying to grab her eyelashes until her eyes tear up from poking at them. Travel-sized magnet-doodle pad thingy. Her "Monkey Tumbles" book. (Both this and the magnet thingy saved us on the 7 hour car ride to see my dad, see below). Her new friend Xavier, from Guam! Swinging on the swings, ad infinitum. Singing "I'm a little teapot," with actions (repeated x100). Fish, as in, watching fish. Forcing the cat to do her bidding (like sitting on a particular blankie, which involves attempting to PICK UP said annoyed cat).
Dislikes: Any of the rides at Lagoon, including the carousel. 7 hour car rides Asparagus Going to Bed Family members asking for kisses. Sitting in the baby backpack for too long in the badlands.
After angsting so much in June, I embraced my time off in July, only to dread going back this week. Nooooo! If only summer could last forever. If only I could get paid to do nothing but enjoy doing nothing.
As one last hurrah before the start of school (and to simultaneously mourn and celebrate the end of my furlough), we took a trip to a cabin up in the mountains with some friends and their little one, and it was fantastic.
It hailed as soon as we got there, but the cabin had a wood burning stove, so we stayed warm and cozy. Later, it was nice enough to go on a hike, with babies in tow.
Our baby backpack is amazingly comfortable. We can easily adjust it to fit me or Britt, and Penny likes being up high so she can survey her domain. She patted me on the shoulder a lot, in between her inspired chants of "Da-DA! Da-DA!"
We tempted bears with the smell of our delicious food, but didn't spy much in the way of wild creatures, except for a few hummingbirds.
It was beautiful in the mountains. It was nice to escape the 98-100 degree weather we'd been having in the valley and get into the brisk, clear air. You know that smell of trees? Mmm. It was hard to leave. We owe our friends a hearty thanks for a nice weekend getaway.
(Rani to Penny: Thanks for not throwing up on me today.)
I consider myself pretty lucky because I have two friends, Liz and Rani, who have been in my life since elementary/middle school and no matter how much time passes, we are still Kindred Spirits who can always pick up where we left off, even if we haven't talked in a while. Another bonus: They like my husband and my husband likes them. That doesn't always happen.
(Liz to Penny: And then Elizabeth realizes Mr. Darcy actually loves her and they live happily ever after.)
We no longer live in close proximity to one another, so hanging out together is more or less an event involving lots of planning and flying hundreds and hundreds of miles. I was thrilled when they said they wanted to splurge on the airfare to meet Penny!
The weekend was filled with catching up, eating at some of our favorite places, and the obligatory shopping for cute baby clothes. And there was even a chance for "mommy time," which meant Penny stayed home with her dad and I got to go shopping with my friends. And I bought things. Things for ME. Huzzah! Although I have to say that trying on clothes post-pregnancy was still a bit of a shock. We also had some deep philosophical discussions, AKA "girl talk," which used to happen on the merry-go-round at the park. This time it was over tea in SLC.
We wanted to get out of the valley and do the outdoorsy thing, but forgot that Little Cottonwood Canyon still has snow in June. A lot of snow. But it was still fun.
We also tested out the Well Known Scandinavian Baby Carrier we have on loan. Penny didn't hate it, but she didn't love it either. There was some cute protesting on her part that went largely ignored in the fresh mountain air. All in all it was a fabulous weekend, one I hope can be repeated many, many times.
