Last weekend, E, Sophie and I drove up to Salt Lake (Provo actually) to stay overnight and visit my step-son, Janzen. Usually, E drives to Salt Lake (a 3 hour drive) on Friday, picks him up and turns around and drives back, and then I drive him 2/3ds of the way back on Sunday (his mom meets me at a kind of hilarious truck stop.) However, this weekend E had saved up some Marriot rewards points and so we decided to use them on a family mini-break.
We hit the road on Saturday, after delivering Jimmy to my parents and did ok for about the first, oh, 2 minutes. E was very thoughtful and bough some cartoons for Sophie to watch in the Game Boy—but the picture was so small and sound so fuzzy that she was only entertained by it for about 5 minutes.
So—somewhere around Paragonah (a real name and a real town. I think in Paiute it means “evil water”) I said fuck-it, and climbed in the back with her. We played My Little Ponies for, oh, ever, and then I busted out these little chain making things. The idea is to sort them by shape and color and click them into chains for jewelry, etc. Soph, however, wanted to take turns chaining each other up, pretending to steal the key (an extra chain piece which she cunningly tucked into her sock), and escaping. For some reason (probably some cartoon) it was very important that we shout out, “Don’t be so sure!” upon our escape.
We also sang the name game song—(which she is getting quite good at. She now “banana-fannas” around the house pretty regularly. Yes, singing the name-game song is an act punishable by drowning in caterpillars after about the age of 10, but when Soph sings it, the cuteness sort of ricochets off the walls) and the “Sophie Gene” song—each about 90 zillion times. (I made up the Sophie Gene song when Soph was first born, and have been adding verses to it since. It changes as she gets older—but mainly it goes:
Sophe Gene, Sophie Gene is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
Sophie Gene, oh my sweet sweet Sophie, won’t you come play with me?
Sweet Sophie Gene, went for a walk on a sunny day, and who did she see?
Mommy and Daddy and Janzen, too.
Oh what a silly Sophie Gene.
Sophie Gene, Sophie Gene, is sweeter than a tangerine.
Sophie Gene, oh my sweet sweet Sophie, won’t you come play with me?
Sweet Sophie Gene, went for a walk on a sunny day, and what did she see?
Mandy and Zachy and Madeline
Oh what a silly Sophie Gene.
There are lots more verses—changes made in lines 1 and 3 based on different words that rhyme with Gene, different people we know, and sometimes animals, etc.)
After picking up Janz, we headed to the dinosaur museum. The kids had fun—I forgot the camera, and at the gift shop, they both chose the very appropriate and dinosaur-esque prize of a slinky.
Like all kids, the only REAL reason they showed up for the party was to swim in the hotel swimming pool. So, we checked in, suited up, and had a very nice time bobbing around together.
At dinner, Sophie started complaining of a tummy ache. I kind of blew it off, because I knew she was hungry, but then she lay down on the bench and started acting pretty pokey. Just as the waitress was taking our order, Soph informed me she was going to throw up. I grabbed her, put my hand over her mouth, shoved past the waitress, and ran blindly looking for a bathroom. I found it, opened the door, and Soph puked all over the floor. I guess better on the bathroom floor than at the table. So—she puked in a toilet stall while I cleaned up the mess as best as I could with paper towels. I didn’t know if Erik had heard her say she was going to throw up, so I didn’t know if he was aware of my plight. So—I left Soph alone—sick—in the bathroom (bad mommy) to get Erik. He was very nervous to be conferencing with me in the ladies, but, desperate times call for desperate measures. Ultimately, he took Soph back to the hotel, I arranged to get our food to go, and we all met up back at the hotel about 30 minutes later.
Luckily—the puking was just a result of too much time in the car and swallowing too much chlorine. She fell asleep sitting up in bed, and slept pretty much through the night.
I, however, did not, My Janzen is the sweetest, smartest kid on the planet, but that kid snores like a freakin’ freight train. Between his snoring, Soph’s kicking, and me worrying that she was going to barf again, I slept for about 2 hours.
I’m bored of this story—so suffice it to say, the trip home was about the same as the trip up—and that when I woke up Monday morning to get ready for work (and discovered my period had started) I thought—Huh? Don’t I get a weekend first?
Today’s best thing about being a mom:
Last night was the first night I put her to bed without a pull-up. She was fine, and woke up with dry panties and a dry bed. Could it be we’re totally totally potty trained?
Today’s worst thing about being a mom:
As always—the mess. The freaking, never ending, constantly building, unmanageable, mess.
We hit the road on Saturday, after delivering Jimmy to my parents and did ok for about the first, oh, 2 minutes. E was very thoughtful and bough some cartoons for Sophie to watch in the Game Boy—but the picture was so small and sound so fuzzy that she was only entertained by it for about 5 minutes.
So—somewhere around Paragonah (a real name and a real town. I think in Paiute it means “evil water”) I said fuck-it, and climbed in the back with her. We played My Little Ponies for, oh, ever, and then I busted out these little chain making things. The idea is to sort them by shape and color and click them into chains for jewelry, etc. Soph, however, wanted to take turns chaining each other up, pretending to steal the key (an extra chain piece which she cunningly tucked into her sock), and escaping. For some reason (probably some cartoon) it was very important that we shout out, “Don’t be so sure!” upon our escape.
We also sang the name game song—(which she is getting quite good at. She now “banana-fannas” around the house pretty regularly. Yes, singing the name-game song is an act punishable by drowning in caterpillars after about the age of 10, but when Soph sings it, the cuteness sort of ricochets off the walls) and the “Sophie Gene” song—each about 90 zillion times. (I made up the Sophie Gene song when Soph was first born, and have been adding verses to it since. It changes as she gets older—but mainly it goes:
Sophe Gene, Sophie Gene is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
Sophie Gene, oh my sweet sweet Sophie, won’t you come play with me?
Sweet Sophie Gene, went for a walk on a sunny day, and who did she see?
Mommy and Daddy and Janzen, too.
Oh what a silly Sophie Gene.
Sophie Gene, Sophie Gene, is sweeter than a tangerine.
Sophie Gene, oh my sweet sweet Sophie, won’t you come play with me?
Sweet Sophie Gene, went for a walk on a sunny day, and what did she see?
Mandy and Zachy and Madeline
Oh what a silly Sophie Gene.
There are lots more verses—changes made in lines 1 and 3 based on different words that rhyme with Gene, different people we know, and sometimes animals, etc.)
After picking up Janz, we headed to the dinosaur museum. The kids had fun—I forgot the camera, and at the gift shop, they both chose the very appropriate and dinosaur-esque prize of a slinky.
Like all kids, the only REAL reason they showed up for the party was to swim in the hotel swimming pool. So, we checked in, suited up, and had a very nice time bobbing around together.
At dinner, Sophie started complaining of a tummy ache. I kind of blew it off, because I knew she was hungry, but then she lay down on the bench and started acting pretty pokey. Just as the waitress was taking our order, Soph informed me she was going to throw up. I grabbed her, put my hand over her mouth, shoved past the waitress, and ran blindly looking for a bathroom. I found it, opened the door, and Soph puked all over the floor. I guess better on the bathroom floor than at the table. So—she puked in a toilet stall while I cleaned up the mess as best as I could with paper towels. I didn’t know if Erik had heard her say she was going to throw up, so I didn’t know if he was aware of my plight. So—I left Soph alone—sick—in the bathroom (bad mommy) to get Erik. He was very nervous to be conferencing with me in the ladies, but, desperate times call for desperate measures. Ultimately, he took Soph back to the hotel, I arranged to get our food to go, and we all met up back at the hotel about 30 minutes later.
Luckily—the puking was just a result of too much time in the car and swallowing too much chlorine. She fell asleep sitting up in bed, and slept pretty much through the night.
I, however, did not, My Janzen is the sweetest, smartest kid on the planet, but that kid snores like a freakin’ freight train. Between his snoring, Soph’s kicking, and me worrying that she was going to barf again, I slept for about 2 hours.
I’m bored of this story—so suffice it to say, the trip home was about the same as the trip up—and that when I woke up Monday morning to get ready for work (and discovered my period had started) I thought—Huh? Don’t I get a weekend first?
Today’s best thing about being a mom:
Last night was the first night I put her to bed without a pull-up. She was fine, and woke up with dry panties and a dry bed. Could it be we’re totally totally potty trained?
Today’s worst thing about being a mom:
As always—the mess. The freaking, never ending, constantly building, unmanageable, mess.
