It Just Might Be Disastrous

As I've previously mentioned, the week after next we'll be vacationing in Puerto Rico with friends. This coming weekend (memorial day) we'll put the kids' beach tolerance to the test at Ocean Isle Beach (here in NC), where we'll be from Saturday until Tuesday evening. ("We" refers to the kids and I, Joel's parents, and my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew. Joel unfortunately has to work over Memorial Day weekend, so he's getting left at home).

Ben has never been a huge beach fan, seeming ambivalent about both sand and water, but he showed progress last summer so I am hoping he'll enjoy himself on both of our upcoming beach trips. Becca enjoyed the beach last summer (when we could just plop her on a towel and let her play in the sand). Now that she's mobile, I am afraid she'll hate the sand, being totally unused to walking on it. And, thanks to her newfound terror of the bathtub -- yes the bathtub terror saga continues -- I am afraid she'll hate both pool and ocean as well.

So... as the title of the post suggests... it just might be disastrous... But I am so excited!

Unprepared

I convinced Joel to come with me and the kids on an ill-fated trip to Charlotte's annual Asian Festival, about 45 minutes away at Lake Norman. When we arrived, we discovered that we needed to park down the street from the entrance to the park where the festival was being held, and ride a shuttle into the park. The shuttle was actually a big tour bus, which both the kids thoroughly enjoyed riding. Neither one of them has ever been on a bus before, so it was a novel experience.

We arrived at the festival grounds, and since it was around lunch time we bought some food from one of the concessions and settled down at a picnic area right by the water to eat and watch the dragon boat races. All went well for a while -- Rebecca enjoyed watching the boats and the water from her stroller, and after Ben ate we allowed him to take off his shoes and wade in the lake with some other children.

And then the heavens opened up, and a torrential downpour began. As the title of this post suggests, I was entirely unprepared for the possibility of rain, having not brought rain gear or umbrellas. We sheltered under a canopy with some other festival-goers, most of whom had umbrellas (which fact Joel pointed out to me numerous times as in, everyone else brought an umbrella, why didn't we?) But our meager shelter was no match for the pouring rain, and by the end of the downpour we all looked like we'd taken a fully-clothed swim in the lake. We seriously would not have been any wetter if we had.

Poor Becca was bawling, but Ben was pretty stoic. After that we decided we'd had enough, and we squelched back to wait for the shuttle (along with half the rest of the people there). Back at the car I changed Rebecca into a dry diaper and a semi-dry t shirt, but I didn't have a change of clothes -- or even a towel -- for anyone else. We cranked up the heat and the seat warmers and had a soggy drive home.

It was a memorable afternoon, just not in the way I originally had envisioned.

Look! They Have Heads!

Bubble Trouble

Rebecca's relationship with bubbles has taken an unfortunate turn for the worse. About a week ago I squeezed a little extra shampoo into her bath to make a few bubbles which I (mistakenly) thought she would enjoy, because she enjoys waving a bubble wand around outside and trying to make bubbles even though she can't manage it and just ends up spilling the soap and licking the bubble wand and then cries when I take them both away from her.

Anyway, where was I? Extra bubbles in the tub. She hated it. She got some bubbles on her hand, and freaked out, as though the bubbles were some flesh-eating bacteria nibbling away at her chubby fingers. She screamed until I took her out of the bath and wiped all the soap off.

Fast forward to her next bath. She was fine until the shampoo bottle was produced. As soon as I began to lather her up, she started screaming bloody murder.

Next two baths -- started screaming as soon as it became apparent that I was getting ready to turn on the faucet and put her in the tub, and didn't stop until she was out of the tub, dried, diapered, and snuggling her bunnies.

Tonight the trauma of it was so exhausting for her that after I had her in her pjs she lay limply in my arms with her head on my shoulder, murmering "Bubble... bubble..." forlornly to herself.

"Do you like bubbles?" I asked, stroking her damp hair.

"NO!"

Epiphany

BEN (holding up a piece of chicken): Does chicken come from an animal?

ME: It's a chicken.

BEN: No, I don't mean what is it, I mean what animal is it!

ME: It's a chicken. (In response to his blank stare I elaborate with some chicken noises).

BEN: OOOOHHHHHHH!! So THAT'S why they call it chicken!

Becca's New Seat

I was tired of Rebecca's high chair -- taking up so much space in the kitchen, getting food stuck in unreachable crevices, etc -- so I donated it to Amvets earlier this week along with numerous other items she doesn't use any more (bouncy seats, jumperoo, infant carrier, stroller etc). To replace her high chair I got her this seat, which clamps onto the table top. At first I was a bit worried about having her just sort of hanging there in mid-air, so I slid a dining chair underneath it. I soon discovered why the seat's instruction manual says not to do that -- she put her feet down on the chair, stood up, and started jumping up and down! So we took the chair away again so that she has no leverage to push herself up and she stays put much better. I simply check to make sure the seat is secure before putting her in it -- and it's stayed rock-solid so far despite her tendency to bounce and rock. She seems to enjoy being closer to the center of action at mealtimes. And I enjoy being able to mop under her chair without having to move a high chair out of the way.

Belated

Happy mother's day everyone! Pretend I posted this three days ago. My in-laws brought over some lovely roses. They are giving me a sinus headache right now but aren't they pretty??? Thank you to all of you who emailed or texted or Facebooked me with mother's day wishes...
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