Vacation: wrapping it up with Rumpus and East End.

It's the time of the week that I despise the most.  Early evening on a Sunday, when the impending doom of Monday morning looms, inevitable of its arrival.  Made worse when one hasn't been to work in over a week, but instead spending some blissful days with my giggly munchkin, making me wish more than once that I was a SAHM.  But alas, our week together has come to an end, and it's back to work and school for us tomorrow.   

Yesterday started out pretty dreary.  To cheer us up, we cranked up the toddler tunes and had our own little dance party.  Then we got silly.

Tired of being in the house for the past couple days, it was time to get our Rumpus on. The Brunswick Arts Festival was also happening, so weaving our way through town was a challenge.  The whole ride over all I heard from the backseat was "ball pit! ball pit!" We got to the Rumpus Room and off G went, immediately to the slide (not the ball pit!), where he once was timid, now flies down at warp speed, landing in a pile of pillows. 

After awhile it was time for lunch.  Where else, but Big Top Deli.  Our fave.  It's so fun taking G out to lunch when he's in a good mood.  As usual, it was crowded.  We ended up sharing a table with a couple and their also two year old son.  The two boys instantly started checking each other out and then launched into their own toddler language.  I love the camaraderie parents have with each other when there are children in similar age.  We started comparing notes of the "mine" and "why" stages, and joked that a morning spent at the Rumpus Room (they had been there too) means an excellent afternoon nap is sure to follow.  That's exactly what happened for us, as evident by G passing out almost within seconds of being put back into the car after lunch.

Today brought a cerulean sky, not a cloud in sight.  Dad had to work, what to do? It's our last official day of vacation.  I considered the options and their pros and cons. Beach, while perfect for this day, would require too much gear for just me to deal.  Ogunquit was a serious contender until I realized the crowds would be overwhelming and really, did I want to spent the majority of the day in the car just getting to and fro? No. In the end, I decided on Mackworth Island...invited a Portland friend along, and off we went.  Until we got there and couldn't park.  Dislike.

No problem. There's always a plan b.  Ours was East End beach on the Eastern Promenade, always a breathtaking view.  We made it, staked out our spot, and enjoyed pointing out the tugboat races to G who, naturally, wanted in the water first thing.  After chucking some rocks and seaweed, we were content to stay back at the blanket, have snacks and chat.  

My patient friend indulged a need for me to try the 'famous' Otto's Pizza and off we went to lunch.  By now, a very silly no-real-nap Garrett was pretty punchy and trying desperately to entertain a very moody looking family who was sitting outside our window.  To no avail.  That said, the pizza did live up to it's reputation. De-lish.

The end of the day wound down, and soon we were home, contemplating a light dinner, bath time and bed.  As I put him down to sleep for the night, we giggled as we talked about our week; places we went, friends we saw.  Tomorrow starts the daily grind, and this past week will just be a memory, captured in these entries.  Summer is winding down, darkness is coming earlier, the approach of Fall on the horizon.  We'll be picking apples, pumpkins, and enjoying hayrides and cool nights.  Here's hoping we have a little bit of summer still left to look forward to.  

Vacation: day five, play date and wipe wonder.

The last day of our vacation. Not officially, since that would be Sunday, but we'd be together on the weekend anyway, so I'm sorta counting this as the last one.  We woke up in much better spirits than yesterday. Ok, I woke up in much better spirits.  We both still have colds but that didn't deter us.

On today's docket? A breakfast playdate with one of my friend's and her 18 month old daughter. Boo showed no signs of a cold as he rip-roared through the house, dragging his trucks to and fro, showing off in front of the shy cutie.  Eventually, they got into typical toddler banter, and a good time was had by all.  Prior to all that however, G impressed me with his ability to walk upright in my Dansko's which he calls "boots". HAHA

After our friends left, G succumbed to a nearly three hour nap (yay for me!) and we awaited a visit from the grandparents, who would be passing by on their way home from Rockland and brought us the most amazing container of blueberries.  I don't think they could look any more scrumptious.  And they taste even more amazing then they look.  There are tons...I need ideas on how to use them other than the pancakes we'll obviously be enjoying tomorrow morning.  What's your favorite blueberry recipe?

After G & G left, Garrett put on Dad's hat.  This jaunty look was too cute not to capture:

So then we sat down to dinner--a grilled cheese, green beans, a banana and applesauce.  Applesauce in our house is eaten by both a spoon and fingers. Especially since most of the food served with the sauce is being dipped in it.  Like tonight, green beans are obviously most delicious with a sheen of the appley tang. I must have used about 15 wipes throughout this meal. Which got me wondering, how many wipes do I go through a day? A week? Throughout the whole 2 + years of this kid's life?  Staggering.  And whoever the genius is that invented them, we owe him/her big time.  This kid could keep them in business alone. And I never leave home without them.

Vacation: day four, rain and sniffles

Day four and we woke up to thunder, a steady drizzle, and sore throat for me, runny nose for G.  Excellent.  Although if we had to feel this way, at least it happened on a rainy day and not a perfectly beautiful one.

Of course when you're the sick mom of a toddler, the toddler has no concept that you don't feel like doing anything but lying on the couch in a semi-coma, with a cold compress to your head and in comfy pjs all day.  Although I do think he knew something was up because randomly throughout the day I'd get a "y'ok, Mom?"  

We did leave the house once for, where else, Target. Of course while in Target, because he has a habit of wanting to run full speed down the aisles, I had to bribe him (shameful but true) to be a good boy with promise of a Frosty's donut. That worked.  Even though we weren't feeling well, a donut always does the trick.

In debating what to have for dinner, the cold rain made me want to stop at our local butcher, Bisson's. They make the most amazing pot pies.  On the way home, we picked up some native corn and a beef pot pie. Perfect.

The rest of the day was spent snoozing, cuddling, and watching a lot of Sesame Street.  I had good intentions of making chocolate chip cookies but we just couldn't make it off the couch.  

Dad came home early, pot pie in the oven, and corn ready to go. (Here's an awesome tip my mom told me about corn...microwave two ears, still in the husk, at a time 4 minutes each, so 8 total.  When done, remove carefully with potholder from micro, and chop off at least an inch off the end that does NOT have the silk attached.  Shake the silk end and the cob falls straight through the husk without any silk, and completely cooked.  It worked for me tonight and it was absolutely fantastic.) Boo approved.

Now the rain has stopped, the sore throat is gone, but the sniffles remain.  Here's hoping tomorrow brings brighter skies and an immunity boost.

Vacation: day 3, Children's Concert Hysterics

We're halfway through our vacation and I hadn't really planned anything for today because the brilliant meteorologists were calling for rain.  Didn't happen. Well it did, but only for about five minutes. I was hoping it wouldn't put a damper on our evening plans, which were to meet up with our buds, M and N, and their mommies, on the Brunswick mall for a children's concert.  

It turned out to be a beautiful evening and the hilarity that was the three of these boys together was something to see.  Seriously. Every time I think I've seen the best or the cutest, they outdo themselves and bring on more enchanting behavior.  They could have been the entertainment.

Our little introvert seemed to burst out of his shell tonight, running all over the place, up the stage, across the yard, and at one point, joining the musician to shake instruments and when given the mic, blew a sufficient puff of air that echoed through the crowd.  What do I take out of these moments?  My friend said it best tonight...how lucky we are to live in this little community that offers these wonderful concerts, bringing people together, bringing friends together.  And I love that G has these buds, who he clearly adores (pushing and shoving are at least always done with a smile on his face...) and that they are continuing to grow up together, building a forever bond.  Priceless.  The pictures say it all.

Vacation: day two.

Day two of our vacation.  It's August in Maine, which means it's HOT.  Where do we go on hot days? The beach!

Yesterday we went to Popham for the umpteenth time this summer.  Naturally we spent most of the time down at the water.  I even went in the whole way. Dad thinks I'm nuts but hey, I practically grew up in these icy waters, and you're a true Mainer.  If we don't go in, you're not going to want to.  You went with me, and had a blast.  Your giggles competed only with the crashing of those frosty waves.  Boy, did we have fun.  Dad got you a kite and we flew that the whole walk around the beach.   I forgot how fun kites can be. Definitely more of that in our future.  Dad and I also put together a Pooh puzzle for you.  There was a time when we did tons of puzzles, and even glued/framed some of them.  We've had this one for awhile and decided it was time to finish it.  You wanted to help. Someday you can. 

Day two of vacation was another hot one.  But this time, we trekked up to Boothbay with our buddies to spend the day at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens.  This is one of those places that one can go over and over again and not get tired.  There are so many beautiful flowers, and the children's garden is spectacular for our curious tots.  These boys are hysterical together, and the little bit older they get, the more comfortable with interacting and playing with each other they are.  To listen to their toddler banter in the backseat of the car or while running back and forth on the grounds is priceless.  A thousand cute and funny things happened today and yet impossible to capture them all.

Suffice to say, we had such a blast with our friends, and so many laughs.  We fondly remembered the days we carted you around in the baby Bjorns, only now to see you running full speed here and there, touching, smelling, and even tasting (water from the fountains, Garrett, is NOT the same as that from your cup).

Tomorrow's supposed to be cloudy and maybe rainy. We're supposed to go to a children's concert on the Brunswick mall in the evening.  But what will the day bring?

A week of firsts.

When I think of firsts in the life of a child, so many happen within the first year (first smile, first tooth, first haircut, first steps, etc), that you forget (or at least I did) the impact a 'first' has when it's been awhile since one has occurred.  This was a big week for firsts. First time trying (and loving!) zucchini.  First time with a babysitter that's not daycare.  And the big one...your first overnight. Without us.  

Let's start with the easiest! Zucchini.  You're just over two.  I fully expect you to not enjoy vegetables.  Yet, I'm constantly amazed at your interest in chomping carrots, nibbling corn (on the cob, no less), shoving peas and beans in your mouth, and now the latest, zucchini.  I hope you are always this enthusiastic about your veggies.  And hey, if dipping in ketchup or dressing  makes them taste better, I'm all for it.

So on Thursday night, I had my first solo outing in a long time.  Dad had to work, and I was going to a taping of my favorite NPR show, Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me.  (I seriously hope this show is still around when you're old enough to appreciate it.)  I tried to finagle in my head some reasonable options for how you could not need a babysitter, but in the end, it's just what ended up happening.  On a recommendation, yet sight unseen, this stranger comes to watch you. To feed you dinner, put you to bed.  

Thankfully, I trust the judgment of the recommend-er, and thus somehow felt ok about just leaving you with someone I hadn't even ever met, let alone really knew anything about. In the end it all worked out, she was great, you were great, and I was able to have a grand evening to myself.  (When you're old enough, I'll regale you with tales of Suzy McDrunk, who occupied the seat next to me and almost *almost* ruined my night.)  

The hardest part for me is not being the one to put you to bed.  Sure, Dad has put you to bed a few times, but really, only a few...because that's our special time.  From way back in the early days when I nursed you, I am the one who rocks you, reads to you, puts your pjs on, and tucks you in.  It's my most favorite part of the day.  So knowing that someone else was doing this for you was a hard pill to swallow.  But it had to be done, and like always, you went to bed without fuss and leapt into dreamland without a care.  You seemed no worse for wear the next morning. Big relief.

Finally, last night was your first overnight with your grandparents.  Dad and I had plans to meet some old friends of mine who were in town, and while I would have loved for you to be there, it was nice to have some adult time.  And G&G hadn't seen you in a couple weeks, why not.  We dropped you off in the late morning, all of us lunching together, and then Dad and I made our exit.  Grampie asked me if I thought you'd be upset realizing we weren't going to be there.  I had no idea! I hoped not.

Dad and I thought about you the whole time.  We called twice to check in, and hearing your chatter and laughter in the background, knew you were fine and having a blast.  You needed this.  And so did g&g.  And well, so did we.  But again, now not only was I not going to be the one to put you to bed, but I also wasn't going to be there when you woke up.  That has never ever happened.  Once again, I underestimated you, and you did just fine.  You looked so happy when I picked you up today.  You're our sweet little boy who was so good for your grandparents.  Something else I hope you'll always be, and appreciate this extra special time you have with them.  They love you so much.

We did miss you though.  It was too quiet this morning after Dad went to work and I wandered around, picking up some stray toys and doing your laundry.  I couldn't wait to hear you say the familiar "Hi, Mom!" when I found you watching, what else, Pooh, with Grampie.

Partying at the grandparents left you exhausted.  Not only did you nap the entire ride home, but also for another two hours beyond that.  

Another first I suppose, was going to the Topsham Fair this afternoon.  Blah.  While it was fun to see the animals and watch you climb on the tractors, you were allegedly too small for the rides (though we begged to differ after seeing some of the rides) and there was nothing going on. Maybe because it was the last day of the Fair that we left totally unimpressed and not anxious to go back.  

As I write this, you're off in dreamland again, and I'm looking forward to spending this entire week with you since we're both on vacation.  Maybe we'll discover a few more 'firsts'. 

Farm follies.

It’s August.  Already.  Summer’s been humming along, bringing with it sticky temperatures, pesky mosquitoes, and coyotes howling long into the night.  But then there’s ice cream cones, beach days, and sunsets. And frogs.

Frogs?

Yeah. Soo, the other night, we were having a perfectly lovely family summer evening. Dinner, then outside in the backyard to roam and try to catch frogs with our net and frog catcher container.  Saw a couple, caught none. Fine by me. Back inside, we had ice cream, danced to some music, and then it was bedtime.  Stories read, snuggles had, it was a great night.

Fast forward to 5:45 am the next morning.  Upon entering the shower, I notice G’s boat, docked serenely on the windowsill of the bathroom.  Inside the boat, like a tiny little amphibian passenger, is none other than a frog.  A real live frog.  Just sitting there, as if waiting for his maiden voyage to set sail.

Looking back, I kind of can’t believe how calmly I handled the whole thing.  I run out to grab the little plastic frog catcher that we had just had the night before, and slowly reenter the bathroom, hoping not to scare the little guy, because frankly, if he jumped out and hopped away, I can guarantee it wouldn’t be long before I freaked out.

Somehow I manage, without touching him, to get him into the plastic container, and set him on the windowsill.  I proceed to take my shower while staring at this miniature being, who’s staring right back at me, as if perplexed as to how he got inside the jar. Not nearly as perplexed as I am as to how he even got into the house, let alone all the way into the bathroom, let alone four feet high off the ground to sit in the boat on the windowsill. 

I can tell he’s panicking inside the jar.  Before anyone wonders or calls PETA on me, this a jar meant to catch things which means there are air vents.  He takes advantage by trying to wrap his spindly little legs around those openings (can I hear a collective ewwww?) and try to break free from his plastic prison.  No such luck.

Of course I take a picture of him in the jar because really, who is ever going to believe that this happened and while I wish I had taken one of him in the boat, my concern was too great for him hopping away.  The last thing I needed was for one of the cats to notice he was here and then there’d be a whole lotta of freaking out to be had.  How he managed to even skirt by them all night, I’ll always wonder.

While getting G dressed, I tell him with unabashed enthusiasm…guess what! Momma caught a FROG!

“Ribbit?” he says.  YES! A real frog. In your boat. In the bathroom.  He giggles with anticipation.  I don’t think he quite believes me.  Until we march downstairs and I proudly hold out the container and say See! There he is! This ugly, beige, beady-eyed creature has been waiting to say hello to you! (not really.)

Big mistake as now G proclaims, “MY frog! Mine mine.”  I convince him that I need to hold on to him because we DON’T want him escaping, do we? No.  We go show daddy, who, half asleep, nearly vaults off the bed when we shove the plastic jar in his face.  I believe the exact wording was “Get that thing out of my face!”

With time ticking away, I decide, well I can’t leave him in the jar.  I tell G that I don’t know how to take care of a frog and that maybe his mommy and his friends miss him...time to release him.  Important to teach him that we can catch things but also let them go, right? I think so.  And so I not so gracefully chuck the plastic container until Freddy (oh yeah, we named him) flew out and landed somewhere in the high grass, hopefully hopping his way to freedom.  Or else getting soon picked up by the many hunting birds that roam the sky.  But at least he didn’t perish on my watch.

Apparently, G then spent the day excitedly telling his buds at daycare all about the frog and the boat.  Sounds like a children's book.  Or a song.  Or maybe, it's just all part of livin' in the country.