Fly Boy

Packed and ready to go. Without the car seat, this would have been completely manageable. With the car seat, we looked like crazy bag people trying to save 25 bucks by not checking another bag. As it was, the one bag we checked--that big orange one--weighed in at 61 pounds, costing us an extra $90 on top of the $25. I blame the big box of CD's Pete brought, because I can. It's my blog. We'll see what it adds up to on the way home. The thing that gets me is that it's the only bag we checked for three people. They should have paid us.

It's 12:05, and we are over the vast expanse of Lake Huron,  its blue waters merging with the sky. Finn is done with the plane.

We have two hours to go.

Pete is changing a poopy diaper because mama does not leave her seat on an airplane, preferring to remain rooted by fear to one spot. There's quite a line forming because it takes Pete a long time to change a poopy diaper in the comfort of our living room, let alone in the confined box of an airplane lavatory. From what I remember, they are pretty small. I made it to Dublin and back without using one, so I could be wrong. I think I have only been in one once. I am convinced that I won't be able to get out, and an embarrassing scene will ensue, involving numerous flight attendants and much head shaking from other passengers. One of my main goals in life is not to be the subject of strangers' dinner conversation. "On the plane today, this idiotic woman locked herself in the labatory. No, I don't think she was 'special.'"

Yes, yes, he's very cute. Note the completely placid 22-month-old who didn't make a sound, right there in the background. Had he not been on the plane for comparison, Finn would have been a pretty good child. As it was, when compared with the other boy, Finn was Average. Also, note the snack container. I can thank A.'s mother for that. She had one at the State Fair, packed with healthy snacks. She's brilliant and organized.

Finn was not going to sit still. I am hyper conscious of trying not to annoy child-free parents, straddling the fence between knowing what it's like to be sick of children and thinking "Screw you, Stink Eye, let's see you do better." It's an uncomfortable fence, complete with splinters and barbed wire.

He needed a nap, but I didn't think that will happen without boob, and I didn't particularly want to freak out prudish Americans who are usually shocked at a nursing child who can speak. There's no logic behind the statement "If you can ask for it, you're too old for it," especially considering that we are told for the rest of our lives that you have to ask for what you want.

Mini Magnadoodle-type drawing pad. It kept him quite occupied for a short period of time. That's the way it is. New book for a little while. Snacks. New toy car (muscle, Matchbox). Snacks. Magnadoodle. iPad. Nap. The snacks are crucial. Bring many.

Finn and Pete played in an empty row for awhile, but when Pete tried to bring him back, he started shriek-whining and back-arching, two of the most grating and publicly humiliating toddler behaviors there are. Conventional means of amusement were no longer working, so we broke out the technology.

Hello, iPad.

We played a few games, and then the eye rubbing began, so we put on Nemo (Finding, not Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea). The headphones were a little weird for him, so now Finn is sitting on Pete's lap, and Pete is reciting the movie.

Yes, we have seen it that many times.

I wanted to be one of those parents who didn't prop herself up on the crutch of television, but a girl's gotta have a break. As fun as it would have been to be superior and smug, inwardly judging people who park their kids in front of Barney, I think I'd rather be able to get something done every once in a while, or even just sit and stare sometimes.

There are plenty of other things I can judge other people for.

In preparation for this flight, I brought grapes, raspberries, hippie pop tarts, crispy rice bars (peanut butter, hippie), and crackers (regular and bunny). We had a few new toys and new books, plus the apps on the iPad and iTouch. Even with all that, once he got too tired, it was down to Pillow to save the day, so he tucked into the corner next to his car seat and fell asleep. Aside from one very short episode with ear pressure, he stayed asleep until all the other passengers were off the plane.

Note to self: next time, no car seat. It is too huge and cumbersome. We'll rent one with the car. Even on the way home, we are checking it.

Musical Interlude

We're still pretty busy, but here's a Before the State Fair Musical Interlude for you.

Anyone still here?

We've been really busy.

Sick

babywhumpus had another fever, but now he's better; I barfed this morning, and my sinus infection is getting worse.

It would be comical, if it didn't make me want to cry.

How Many is One? (Or: The Great Zoo Mix-up)

Connoisseurs of early Sesame Street will recognize the tune. Some of the lyrics are mine:

"One, one, one, one; let's sing a song about One.
I'm fine with just One!"

daddywhumpus volunteered to help out the day care on Monday by driving to the horseback riding outing, so the two-year-olds could go along. He'd take babywhumpus and A- in our car, otherwise, there would not be room, what with the space their giant car seats take up. On Sunday evening, he got a call that horseback riding was postponed, and on Monday morning, he got a call saying that the zoo was the alternate trip, and would he still be able to go.

I was still in bed with the latest: a developing sinus infection. My teeth hurt. My head hurt. The general area of my nose and cheek hurt. I had decided to stay home from work. Then the zoo came up. I decided I wanted to go to the zoo with the kids, bleariness and pain notwithstanding.

Here in the Twin Cities, we have two zoos: The Minnesota Zoo and The Como Zoo.

You know what's coming, don't you?

The accepted terminology is that "The Zoo" equals "The Minnesota Zoo," and "The Como Zoo" is "The Como Zoo." The Minnesota Zoo has an entrance fee, the Como Zoo does not. It should have been obvious to me that the day care was going to the Como Zoo, but I made two assumptions. One was that Pete had asked, and the other was that if day care had meant "The Como Zoo," they would have said "The Como Zoo." Thus, even though the question "Does he mean the Como Zoo?" was lingering in my head, up until the time we pulled away from day care with the kids strapped in, I was on the event horizon between Benadryl and Sudafed, and I didn't say anything.

We got to The Zoo and loaded in. As we were sitting near the main entrance, Pete and I having extra coffee and the boys having some banana, we made the discovery, through a small series of phone calls, that we were visiting two different zoos together. The other day care kids were by the main entrance of the Como Zoo in Saint Paul, and we were by the main entrance of The Minnesota Zoo in Apple Valley. These sites are twenty miles apart, so we elected to stay where we were and meet up back at day care at 1:00.

Observations:

1. Watching Other People's Kids is nerve-wracking, and I think I took more care with A- than I do with babywhumpus.

2. It's not just that Finn is a boy, he's an active kid who doesn't listen as well as other kids, at least in this admittedly very small data sample. A- would sit still and also listened to us. Then again, when it came to walking, Finn was being clingy and wanted to be carried. He's also a follower, in some respects, who waits for A- to do stuff and then copies.

3. One. One is good. Two is one too many. To say I am too old for two is an accurate statement. By the time daddywhumpus dropped me off at home, I was barely able to climb into bed. We adopted a zone defense, even though we initially planned on a man-to-man. The zone worked out much better given the terrain.

Chocolate

There was a pinata at a birthday party, and aside from someone's excellent form...

(He does NOT get that from me. That would be his Gran and his Daddy.)

There was chocolate...

The Pool

Just back from our first trip this summer to the pool (Hey, I know it's August, but last year, our first time was on the Last Day the Pool Was Open for the Season). Our St. Paul Parks and Recreation Department has some great choices, and we hit up the Highland Park Aquatic Center. They have a big pool, a diving pool, a wading pool, and something I think they all a "splash deck." The only problem we have with the place is that there is almost nowhere that there is no spraying or splashing water, and babywhumpus does not like to have water in his eyes. But, he's one kid out of thousands, so tough noogies for him.

He's asleep.

We got into the car at 5:12, and I predicted he would be asleep in two minutes. I was right. He slept through ice cream at the best ice cream joint in The Cities. He slept through getting back into and then out of the car seat. He slept through being transitioned into the crib. It will make for an interesting bedtime, but I am not waking a sleeping toddler.

Things I Learned at the Pool:

1. It is impossible to make a toddler not run. Toddlers run. They run and run and run. They do not walk.

2. A lot of people have tattoos, and most of those tattoos are stupid and/or ugly. At least at this pool.

3. People still tan, like, on purpose.

4. Pool time should be before afternoon nap.