I Heart 3 Day Weekends

Labor day weekend is going to rule, y’all.

Why, you ask?

Well, let me list the reasons why…

1) W and I will finally get to spend some time with the Hubs who we have only seen for a few moments in the morning all this week.
2) We’re going to buy a real grill, one of those multi burner monsters with several racks and enough surface area to hold a marinated moose. I’m going to let W beat our old charcoal one like it’s a bloated piñata. I loathe that damn thing.
3) Monday morning we’re all going over to a neighbor’s house for brunch. Most of the guests are folks I’ve never met that live in my ‘hood and have children. I heard there’s going to be mimosas. I love the idea of champagne in the morning and a big family nap afterwards. Oh yeah.
4) Big sale at Last Call. ‘Nuff said.
5) I’m going to finally buy some cowboy boots. I don’t have any and that’s a crime.
6) Several playdates and hen sessions.
7) And lastly, it’s a 3-day weekend which means no work in Monday. NO...WORK...ON...MONDAY. Sweet.

In an effort to keep the grandparents sated, here are more pics for their viewing pleasure. These were taken in Kentucky, the first leg of our summer on the road. W and I traveled sans the Hubs. Fun was had by all.

Ay Me Cabeza

Yesterday I left work with a headache and I knew it was going to be one of those that would wear out its welcome in a hurry, like a drunken uncle at a pool party. I had a laundry list of things I wanted to knock out last night, little chores like vacuuming, dishes, etc., but I was paralyzed with pain. Thankfully, W was totally game to go upstairs and “noogle” with me while I waited for the ibuprofen to kick in although we did spend a couple of minutes jumping on the bed before burrowing beneath the covers. I lucked in to an amazing show on TLC that I had wanted to see called Crazy Sexy Cancer. I was fortunate enough to meet the star of the documentary this past March when I coordinated a party for the premiere of the film. Little did I know how incredible her story was going to be. It airs again tonight at 11 p.m. so DVR it at least. You’ll be glad you did.

I swam in the ocean of cerebral hurt all night and that must’ve triggered the nightmare I had about W getting kidnapped from a playground. He and I were leaving a lingerie store (huh?) and W immediately bolted to a busy playground across the street. I couldn’t keep up with him and he soon vanished in a crowd of people. I searched frantically for him, screaming his name, delirious from the fear of losing him. The experience seemed so real, so intense. I knew in my heart as I crashed through bodies standing around the slides and swings that I couldn’t go on living without the little guy. The pain of it was larger than life. I awoke this morning panicked and with a pounding head and I didn’t waste any time before racing down the stairs to check on the kiddo who was happily playing with his monster trucks in bed…like he always does…everyday…thank the Lord.

Doesn't this picture look like W fell out of a tree or airplane and just landed like that with all of the debris around him? It's one of those worn out from the ocean naps that takes you as you are...completely exhausted.

Willem and The F Word

So here's a video of W saying something that sounds like the F word. Leave it to the Hubs to make it seem so. Notice how W calls the Hubs by his nickname. Notice the ever present pacifier held like a cigar in W's mouth. For the record the paci has a limited presence in the household these days. Not being able to have one at school has helped tremendously and I'm seriously sick of the thing.

Mushy Brain

Hello again. It’s amazing how easy it is to slide back into the routine of domestic responsibility and the career world after being on vaca for 2 months. Just jump right in and join the rat race. Vaca is like a comfy pair of jeans with threadbare heels and a slouchy waistline while the working world is like running a marathon in stillettos. I went from trying to decide which new swimsuit to wear each day to herding 300+ intoxicated guests of a client at a 2-day event. I’m going from mushy brain to muscular brain again and I miss mushy brain. We all should get at least two months of the year off. It’s good for the spirit, the family and the marriage.

Upon approval from my various bosses for my sabbatical last June, I immediately began piecing together the adventurous weeks ahead. I imagined my son naked and frolicking on the sandy shores of the west coast, the chilly surf taming the cloudless, sunny days and strolling hand in hand on the boardwalk under the stars and the neon of the ferris wheel with the Hubs. The reality? The baby with the itchy, embedded sand in his crotch, eyes, hair and mouth. The chilly surf waiting to drag my son like a hungry alligator into its depths. The challenge of maintaining a level of sanity with the spouse in the wake of tantrums and fatigue, his and mine. Don’t get me wrong though. If I had known what I know now about what it’s like to travel great distances and over several time zones with a 22-month-old and a 40-year-old I’d still totally do it.

Our first day on the open road was nine hours long. This included stops for gas, calls from nature and parental time outs. The following is a list of the things I packed in the car for the tot…

-A small padded desk that attached to his carseat. Perfect for Play Doh, playing with monster trucks, and eating.

-DVD player. Yup, we bought one and I’m damn glad I did.

-TONS of small snacks and one of those Snack Trap cups.

-Surprise toys that have never been seen before.

-Soft cotton covers for the shoulder straps of the car seat.

-Jelly cat.

-Daddy’s iPod

Somehow, some way, all of these items were all that was needed to keep W entertained two straight months. The absolute favorite was, and still is, the Play Doh. We left a trail of neon colored chunks from here to Santa Cruz and back.

Here We Are!

Well, here we are again and darn it, it’s good to be back. I had seriously considered abandoning this blog once and for all but me mind has changed. I thought about how great it is to read someone else’s blog and relate to what they are saying or realize that I’m not the worst parent on the planet at times and decided, I, too, must continue to air out the dirty laundry of childrearing on my end of the street. Besides, W needs to understand why he’s in therapy for life.

It is with boastful parenting pride that I can report that we, as a family of three, traveled for 7 straight weeks together this summer without one maimed limb or the filing of divorce papers. There were several bruised egos but that’s about it. I should also mention that 5 of those weeks were spent traveling in a car the size of a go cart…with a nearly 2-year-old…because it had a GPS and good gas mileage but I would’ve given my last glass of wine on earth to have had a bit more room to sleep/eat/read/stretch out while cruising down the endless highway. We had fun though. W is now qualified to work either at Sea World or an airport. All of the beach and airline time has made him employable. As I play catch up here on this site, I’ll highlight the hilarious and the horrible details of our summer.

W and I flew home on the 5th of this month. Several days later while in the throes of decompression and jet lag, W started back to school, in the bigger kids class, the one where he is required to bring his own lunch box and can’t have his binkie (as a result of so much travel, W became very attached to his paci and blankie so much so that the Hubs said if he went missing, the photo we’d submit to the police would have to include one), the one where the bigger boys say things like, “I’m not a baby’s friend, I’m a big kid’s friend.” They tower over him like giants. His small frame is swallowed by the plastic chairs in his classroom. My little shrimp is growing up and, as usual, I have mixed feelings about all of this.

Here are some shots of the trip out west.