So, it's Friday night, my husband is out with his buddies, and I've finally, finally got a moment to be awake and write. I guess I'll start with the the most recent occurrence and work backwards. Thanks to a New Years resolution of sorts, we are eating based on the Zone diet these days. For those of you who don't know, basically this diet means I gotta cut up a bunch of veggies every night. Which isn't a bad thing, don't get me wrong. So, I get home from work a couple days ago, I feed the kiddies their dinner and then Bubu and Peewee "help" me prep dinner for daddy.
In our kitchen, we have an island so I put two bar stools at the counter, and they basically transfer veggies from one bowl to another. Well, I know it's so cliche to say this but, it happened so fast. Peewee, who is 18 months old now, climbed up on to the counter from her stool. I told her to get down, but she didn't listen to me...maybe because she's 18 months old...and she fell. On her face.
First of all, she's fine. Thank God. But I didn't know in the moment. She started crying. I scooped her up trying to figure out what to do next. I checked fingers, arms, legs, checked for blood anywhere, anything broken? No. I ran and dug my phone out of my purse and tried my husband, knowing he probably wouldn't answer because he's at crossfit class. I start texting 911 to his phone knowing it's a futile effort. I give up. Then I sit down with Peewee and she's lethargic so I start to worry. I call my sister en law in North Carolina. No answer. I can't call ANY parent for fear of the "why was she on the counter?" question. So, I call my big brother.
Isn't it interesting, who you end up trusting the most in your life? So he answers the phone, I blurt out what happened, and I wait for his advice. He tells me to call the doctor while he googles it and texts me what google says. Sounds like a plan. I call the after hours nurse, with Bubu stuck on his bar stool at the kitchen counter asking if he can get down now...and me saying, Peewee is hurt Bubu, gimme 5 minutes ok? I can't help but wonder if Peewee is brain damaged but within 10 minutes she's navigating normally on my iphone so I start to relax.
About 30 minutes later, my husband had come home. Peewee was running around with Bubu at this point laughing and playing, with me stunned silent staring at them run circles around me.
Let me go ahead and admit, it was a bad idea to put my "climber" on a bar stool at the kitchen counter. I should have known better. Bubu never climbs shit so I guess I wasn't prepared. Peewee the daredevil, the trooper, the bruiser, should no longer be the "Peewee".
Not to be taken seriously. Ramblings of a stay at home mom who finally got a job.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Saturday, October 13, 2012
The Experiment: Chronicle of Week 1
We are now in Week 6 of the NFL season and for the past 5 weeks, our family has been participating in an experiment to find a toddler-friendly sports bar in our home town. I've suddenly discovered that I've got this OCD type need to document our experiences and create a spreadsheet with all our findings but that's another story.
Week 1: In attempt number one, we went to a little place up the street called the Diamond Plate (aka DP) where I have actually been a few times. During those times I've loved it. It's never totally packed and I swear I've seen a high chair there before somewhere, implying kid-friendliness, so I suggested to my husband that we test it out on a football Sunday for lunch.
We got out of the house right after Peewee woke up from her morning nap and got to the bar around 11:30 am. That means we had a good hour and a half before any illogical meltdowns began. The DP was packed and the only available table was a high top. Bubu was ok but Peewee is 16 months old now and I'm about to change her nickname to Punk. Without a high chair we took turns holding her as she tried to kick, lick, and throw condiments across the bar. The server took my husband's and my drink order and turned away so quickly that I had to shout out over the fairly rowdy old man crowd, "and two kid's lemonades please!"
We received a couple To-Go cups with lids that weren't quite secure enough for Peewee's onslaught. It's raining lemonade on my lap and so we determined that the DP was not our winner. We paid our tab and went to Chili's.
Conclusion: In order to spend football Sunday at DP, get a babysitter.
Week 1: In attempt number one, we went to a little place up the street called the Diamond Plate (aka DP) where I have actually been a few times. During those times I've loved it. It's never totally packed and I swear I've seen a high chair there before somewhere, implying kid-friendliness, so I suggested to my husband that we test it out on a football Sunday for lunch.
We got out of the house right after Peewee woke up from her morning nap and got to the bar around 11:30 am. That means we had a good hour and a half before any illogical meltdowns began. The DP was packed and the only available table was a high top. Bubu was ok but Peewee is 16 months old now and I'm about to change her nickname to Punk. Without a high chair we took turns holding her as she tried to kick, lick, and throw condiments across the bar. The server took my husband's and my drink order and turned away so quickly that I had to shout out over the fairly rowdy old man crowd, "and two kid's lemonades please!"
We received a couple To-Go cups with lids that weren't quite secure enough for Peewee's onslaught. It's raining lemonade on my lap and so we determined that the DP was not our winner. We paid our tab and went to Chili's.
Conclusion: In order to spend football Sunday at DP, get a babysitter.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Caution: Explicit Content
5am, Tuesday, July 31st. Bubu had just climbed into bed with us which is the normal 5am routine. I cracked open my eyes and noticed a slight queasiness in my stomach. I thought it was a little constipation so I rummaged through the bathroom drawers to find some leftover Col-Ease from when Peewee was born. I popped a couple pills, chugged a bottle of water, and went back to bed since I had a good hour before I really had to get up. I figured I'd go to the bathroom one good time and all would be normal. But the tummy troubles never subsided and I found myself on the toilet repeatedly with no relief in sight. As I sat there, sweating, nauseous, I started wondering what I was going to tell my boss. I'm obviously going to be late, my parents happen to be flying into town in a few hours from across the country, and I can't get off the toilet. Do I tell him anything about the toilet? Do I tell him I have no more poop to poop and still feel bad? Ugh! No, are you crazy?! So I text that I'm having some stomach issues and I'm running a bit late.
I somehow power through the nausea and weird pain to make it to the car, and then to Starbucks. Then, I sit on the toilet in Starbucks. No poop, just nausea. Seriously, is this what my life has turned into? I lean on the counter and order my coffee, thinking I will be fine, just power though it. I repeat to myself, I have a stomach of steel, I have a stomach of steel.
After about 5 minutes at my desk, I concede to the illness and walk into my boss's office to confess that I am dying. I tell him I'd like to lie down under my desk for a few minutes but if that's inappropriate, I need to go home and lie down for a little bit and hopefully be back at work after I get my parents from the airport. I somehow make the drive home, sneak in without the kids and nanny seeing me, and crash for an hour.
It's a struggle but I make it to the airport, make it back home with the rents, and out to pizza for dinner with the family. I was miserable, I couldn't eat not one bite of Round Table pizza, which is nuts. All I wanted to do was lay down in the booth. My Mom realized I wasn't feeling well, so she expedited the meal into a box and we drove home. I crashed for a few hours until my husband walked in and started asking questions. We were worried that the hernia was somehow causing this weird nausea and pain so he rushed me to the ER. What a nightmare that was. It happened to be the busiest night ever at Sutter Roseville. Every sick child, elderly person in a wheelchair, and bloody teenager was in the ER that night. We waited for 3 and half miserable hours until I couldn't make it any longer. Meanwhile, I had been using my purse as a pillow and an entire bottle of body spray spilled in my bag. The smell was overpowering and it did not help that I was nauseous in the first place. The people around me were horrified. I overheard some man say he'd been there for 7 hours and so we ended up leaving before we ever saw a doctor.
The next day, I slept almost all day, no food, barely anything to drink, vomiting that awful stomach acid. On the phone with the doctor , they confirmed I was NOT pregnant. THAT just by itself was a large light at the end of a dark tunnel. So I thought, this will blow over and I'll be fine tomorrow. Thank goodness my parents were there entertaining the kids all day and night. I would have been so screwed if they weren't here. The next morning, I tried to make it to work. I actually was ok for an hour or two, but then felt the queasiness creeping back so rushed home to squat in front of the toilet I knew best. I made an appt to see my doctor at 3:15 pm to find out if I really was dying. After waiting for over an hour in the waiting room, I was scolded for leaving the ER without seeing the doctor. God, if they only knew. I felt so awful I could barely keep my eyes open.
Without any true examination, it was determined I had a "bug" and needed lots of red Gatorade. Not yellow, or orange, but red or blue or purple. I puked for one more night but got plenty of red Gatorade down per my doctors orders and now it's Sunday, August 5th. I had to cancel our Saturday beach trip to Santa Cruz, our visit to the Monterrey Bay aquarium, and right now, my husband, kids and parents are out hiking by the river without me. But I have managed to eat two bites of toast and a few slices of pear today. I have survived the worst of it.
Since I've never been sick like this before, except for being pregnant, this was scary I must admit. There is one plus side I guess, I've lost 7 lbs in 6 days. Eeesh. Just to be clear, not a recommended diet.
I somehow power through the nausea and weird pain to make it to the car, and then to Starbucks. Then, I sit on the toilet in Starbucks. No poop, just nausea. Seriously, is this what my life has turned into? I lean on the counter and order my coffee, thinking I will be fine, just power though it. I repeat to myself, I have a stomach of steel, I have a stomach of steel.
After about 5 minutes at my desk, I concede to the illness and walk into my boss's office to confess that I am dying. I tell him I'd like to lie down under my desk for a few minutes but if that's inappropriate, I need to go home and lie down for a little bit and hopefully be back at work after I get my parents from the airport. I somehow make the drive home, sneak in without the kids and nanny seeing me, and crash for an hour.
It's a struggle but I make it to the airport, make it back home with the rents, and out to pizza for dinner with the family. I was miserable, I couldn't eat not one bite of Round Table pizza, which is nuts. All I wanted to do was lay down in the booth. My Mom realized I wasn't feeling well, so she expedited the meal into a box and we drove home. I crashed for a few hours until my husband walked in and started asking questions. We were worried that the hernia was somehow causing this weird nausea and pain so he rushed me to the ER. What a nightmare that was. It happened to be the busiest night ever at Sutter Roseville. Every sick child, elderly person in a wheelchair, and bloody teenager was in the ER that night. We waited for 3 and half miserable hours until I couldn't make it any longer. Meanwhile, I had been using my purse as a pillow and an entire bottle of body spray spilled in my bag. The smell was overpowering and it did not help that I was nauseous in the first place. The people around me were horrified. I overheard some man say he'd been there for 7 hours and so we ended up leaving before we ever saw a doctor.
The next day, I slept almost all day, no food, barely anything to drink, vomiting that awful stomach acid. On the phone with the doctor , they confirmed I was NOT pregnant. THAT just by itself was a large light at the end of a dark tunnel. So I thought, this will blow over and I'll be fine tomorrow. Thank goodness my parents were there entertaining the kids all day and night. I would have been so screwed if they weren't here. The next morning, I tried to make it to work. I actually was ok for an hour or two, but then felt the queasiness creeping back so rushed home to squat in front of the toilet I knew best. I made an appt to see my doctor at 3:15 pm to find out if I really was dying. After waiting for over an hour in the waiting room, I was scolded for leaving the ER without seeing the doctor. God, if they only knew. I felt so awful I could barely keep my eyes open.
Without any true examination, it was determined I had a "bug" and needed lots of red Gatorade. Not yellow, or orange, but red or blue or purple. I puked for one more night but got plenty of red Gatorade down per my doctors orders and now it's Sunday, August 5th. I had to cancel our Saturday beach trip to Santa Cruz, our visit to the Monterrey Bay aquarium, and right now, my husband, kids and parents are out hiking by the river without me. But I have managed to eat two bites of toast and a few slices of pear today. I have survived the worst of it.
Since I've never been sick like this before, except for being pregnant, this was scary I must admit. There is one plus side I guess, I've lost 7 lbs in 6 days. Eeesh. Just to be clear, not a recommended diet.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Love and Concern
I still have half a glass of wine left so I'm actually writing two posts in one night. A new record for me. So anyways, I am so excited that my parents are coming to visit all the way from NC in a week. They are staying with us for awhile to hang out with the kiddies and also take care of me after my second hernia repair which is August 7th. Thank you Peewee.
I have weekend plans for us, but during the week, the hubby and I go to work so I told the nanny she's on vacation since mom and dad will be here. I think that this is ok, I mean, my mom told me to give the nanny this time off, but my parents are getting older and I wonder if this will be tough on them. Do they know what they have signed up for? Bubu and Peewee for 8 hours/day? I'll admit, they are getting easier the older they get, believe it or not, but it's not truly easy with two little kids all day.
All Bubu wants to eat is potato chips, fruit snacks, and the occasional chocolate donut hole. So let me tell you, that is wonderful. Absolutely delightful to deal with. I finally realize the trauma I caused my mother because I've been told that when I was a kid, all I ever wanted to eat was potato chips. For the record, I do not remember this.
I'm sure they will be fine, I mean it is the BOTH of them so they aren't outnumbered. I'm planning a couple dinner parties to keep us entertained. And honestly, I treasure the time they get to spend with Bubu and Peewee since they are so far away and see the kiddies so little each year. So dear mom and dad, I cannot wait to see you. I guess that feeling never goes away. I love you both!!!
I have weekend plans for us, but during the week, the hubby and I go to work so I told the nanny she's on vacation since mom and dad will be here. I think that this is ok, I mean, my mom told me to give the nanny this time off, but my parents are getting older and I wonder if this will be tough on them. Do they know what they have signed up for? Bubu and Peewee for 8 hours/day? I'll admit, they are getting easier the older they get, believe it or not, but it's not truly easy with two little kids all day.
All Bubu wants to eat is potato chips, fruit snacks, and the occasional chocolate donut hole. So let me tell you, that is wonderful. Absolutely delightful to deal with. I finally realize the trauma I caused my mother because I've been told that when I was a kid, all I ever wanted to eat was potato chips. For the record, I do not remember this.
I'm sure they will be fine, I mean it is the BOTH of them so they aren't outnumbered. I'm planning a couple dinner parties to keep us entertained. And honestly, I treasure the time they get to spend with Bubu and Peewee since they are so far away and see the kiddies so little each year. So dear mom and dad, I cannot wait to see you. I guess that feeling never goes away. I love you both!!!
Hey Stranger
Wow, it's been so long since I've written that I feel this might be a pure stream of consciousness. So here we go. I'll start with the kids. Bubu and Peewee are definitely entertaining little beings. I love watching their interactions with each other, even when they are beating one another. I sometimes sit back and allow them to beat eachother just to see how the other one handles the situation.
Last week, Bubu came into our room around 2am coughing. From experience we knew to get bath towels and lay them all over our bed so that when he coughed till he puked we'd protect our sheets. So, he puked some of that clear, slimy shit a few times and I said enough already. I'm in the medicine cabinet looking for children's cough syrup, cough drops, cough pills, oh! I found some grape cough strips, like little breath strips. Perfect!! I ripped a packet open and told Bubu to open his mouth and I dropped it on his tongue. Then after giving it to him, I read the box. For children 4 and under it says: Do Not Give. Fuck. Did I really just overdose my 2 year old? Well, it's 3am so in my hazy cloud, I decided to just see what happens and let him sleep in our bed with us to monitor his breathing. He totally zonked out, it was awesome. No more coughing, no more puking, I just had to check that he was breathing every hour. The next day I call our Pediatrician to confirm I won't go to jail for the overdose, and she confirms I'm safe. Whew.
The moral of the story is, it's probably a good idea to read the medicine box BEFORE administering meds to your children. But if you don't like to read, it's ok, the box is totally exxagerated.
Last week, Bubu came into our room around 2am coughing. From experience we knew to get bath towels and lay them all over our bed so that when he coughed till he puked we'd protect our sheets. So, he puked some of that clear, slimy shit a few times and I said enough already. I'm in the medicine cabinet looking for children's cough syrup, cough drops, cough pills, oh! I found some grape cough strips, like little breath strips. Perfect!! I ripped a packet open and told Bubu to open his mouth and I dropped it on his tongue. Then after giving it to him, I read the box. For children 4 and under it says: Do Not Give. Fuck. Did I really just overdose my 2 year old? Well, it's 3am so in my hazy cloud, I decided to just see what happens and let him sleep in our bed with us to monitor his breathing. He totally zonked out, it was awesome. No more coughing, no more puking, I just had to check that he was breathing every hour. The next day I call our Pediatrician to confirm I won't go to jail for the overdose, and she confirms I'm safe. Whew.
The moral of the story is, it's probably a good idea to read the medicine box BEFORE administering meds to your children. But if you don't like to read, it's ok, the box is totally exxagerated.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
The Joys of Parenting
We had a wonderful weekend up in Tahoe over Memorial Day. We took the kids on another hiking adventure, went out for a few cocktails while Tutu and Papa babysat for us, and headed home Monday morning. I was excited to get home and put together Bubu's new toddler bed, well, the Hubby actually does all the home-purchase-assembly. All I had to do was get some toddler bedding and a few Target items and take the munchkins to a playdate at my girlfriends house. We shopped, we played, and we went home. Everything was right in my world in Roseville.
I tried to move the crib into a different room but it didn't fit through the door, and so I decided to just put both kids in one room and see what happens. It was kind of like my own little experiment with our kiddies. So, we read stories and put them down. Then, we laid on the floor outside their room to listen and watch if we saw Bubu's little feet under the door. We were ecstatic that all we saw was that Peewee dropped her paci and Bubu went, stole it, and returned to bed. Success!!! Well, kind of, I guess, I have a thief kid but he IS sleeping in his new toddler bed.
So, we go to bed and make bets on when Bubu will appear in our room. He appeared around midnight saying "Mommy, mommy" in that super high-pitched pitiful voice that means he doesn't feel good. I scooped him up and, of course, breaking all good parenting rules, put him in bed with us. We immediately realized he was burning up and since we know what fever feels like and that Tylenol has magical healing powers, I went to go get his "candy". As I was in the other room, I hear my husband start yelling, "He's puking!! He's puking in our BED!!" I ran back, grabbed the puker and threw him in the bathroom.We were both covered in vomit.
After a 103.4 fever, a couple calls to the pediatrician, and about 18 miserable hours later, the fever was gone. No runny nose, no nothing. I mean, what the f--- happened? Where did he even catch anything? In the f---ing woods? No other kids got sick, not the playdate kid, not Peewee, not me. I don't know what happened. I just know that I had to Shout Out puke all morning, crush Tylenol in Bubu's juice (because he refused to take the medicine), and I missed work for half a day.
As a parent, I guess you can't help but be scared. Actually petrified that a 103+ fever hits and you just pray it goes away quickly somehow. This was not bad in the long run. This was actually pretty easy...but I can't help but wonder, does it ever get easier?
I tried to move the crib into a different room but it didn't fit through the door, and so I decided to just put both kids in one room and see what happens. It was kind of like my own little experiment with our kiddies. So, we read stories and put them down. Then, we laid on the floor outside their room to listen and watch if we saw Bubu's little feet under the door. We were ecstatic that all we saw was that Peewee dropped her paci and Bubu went, stole it, and returned to bed. Success!!! Well, kind of, I guess, I have a thief kid but he IS sleeping in his new toddler bed.
So, we go to bed and make bets on when Bubu will appear in our room. He appeared around midnight saying "Mommy, mommy" in that super high-pitched pitiful voice that means he doesn't feel good. I scooped him up and, of course, breaking all good parenting rules, put him in bed with us. We immediately realized he was burning up and since we know what fever feels like and that Tylenol has magical healing powers, I went to go get his "candy". As I was in the other room, I hear my husband start yelling, "He's puking!! He's puking in our BED!!" I ran back, grabbed the puker and threw him in the bathroom.We were both covered in vomit.
After a 103.4 fever, a couple calls to the pediatrician, and about 18 miserable hours later, the fever was gone. No runny nose, no nothing. I mean, what the f--- happened? Where did he even catch anything? In the f---ing woods? No other kids got sick, not the playdate kid, not Peewee, not me. I don't know what happened. I just know that I had to Shout Out puke all morning, crush Tylenol in Bubu's juice (because he refused to take the medicine), and I missed work for half a day.
As a parent, I guess you can't help but be scared. Actually petrified that a 103+ fever hits and you just pray it goes away quickly somehow. This was not bad in the long run. This was actually pretty easy...but I can't help but wonder, does it ever get easier?
Sunday, May 6, 2012
The Thornton Family Hiking Chronicles
A few weeks ago, my husband decided we were going to go hiking every weekend after Bubu's soccer practice. He proceeded to buy hiking cross trainer shoes at REi for $130 in preparation for our future adventures. No comment.
Last weekend, we followed some directions he found on his phone. We drove down the freeway then took some exit and started down a long and windy country road into BFE. I started getting concerned after the first few miles because we didn't pack lunch, just a sole nutri-grain bar actually, and it was already past noon. I kept thinking we'd be that family that gets lost in the woods with no food. Finally after looking at the route more closely, we saw we weren't even half-way to the destination so we turned around. We happened to find a trail off the road back and thought we'd try it out since we had driven all the way out there. We pulled the double jog stroller out, got the kids strapped in, and set out.
It was just a little trail through the woods but it was nice! We were out of the house, no TV was on, it was awesome. Then we realized the front tire of the stroller was flat. That made it slightly more difficult for my husband who was the designated stroller pusher. Okay, that probably made it suck for him I think. So we found a spot in the sun next to the lake and Bubu threw rocks in the water for at least 10 minutes which felt like 4 hours. Then after dragging him away from the rocks, we headed back home.
That week I realized it was my duty to fix the tire on the stroller. I took it to a bike repair shop and got it fixed Tuesday at lunch. It was flat when I got home that night. I went on Wednesday on got it repaired again. It was flat again when I got home that night. I took a breather on Thursday so that I wouldn't unleash the wrath of Keya on the bike repair guys. Finally on Friday, I went again and got the tube replaced which worked. Needless to say, skipping lunch for three days to fix the hiking stroller tire was not a highlight of my life.
We looked up stroller friendly trails and headed out Saturday afternoon. Once again it was a long and windy road, but it was gorgeous views and we were excited to find our trail. About halfway up the hill, Bubu told us he wanted to get out, we tried to console him and told him we were almost there. He tried to tell us again about 5 more miles down the windy road, and we again said to sit tight, almost there buddy. Then he puked. And puked and puked. We stopped immediately and pulled Bubu out of his puke covered seat. I felt so bad for the little guy. Crying, covered in nastiness on the side of the road. We've actually done this before with Peewee in the snow so we tag teamed the cleanup, put Bubu in a clean sweatshirt, baby wiped everything down, and headed the last couple minutes to the entrance of the trail with Bubu in the front seat with me.
We had a good time once again, it was nice to be outside. Jackson busted and scraped his knee but seemed to stop crying when mommy and daddy sand songs, so we sang our standard choices, Old McDonald, Itsy Bitsy Spider, and Baby Got Back. He then had fun throwing rocks in the lake which I feel will be a requirement of all our hiking trips. In spite of the puke and bloody knee, we learned a lot and have picked out our next trail for next Saturday.
We'll see how it goes next week, with some Dramamine before we get in car.
Last weekend, we followed some directions he found on his phone. We drove down the freeway then took some exit and started down a long and windy country road into BFE. I started getting concerned after the first few miles because we didn't pack lunch, just a sole nutri-grain bar actually, and it was already past noon. I kept thinking we'd be that family that gets lost in the woods with no food. Finally after looking at the route more closely, we saw we weren't even half-way to the destination so we turned around. We happened to find a trail off the road back and thought we'd try it out since we had driven all the way out there. We pulled the double jog stroller out, got the kids strapped in, and set out.
It was just a little trail through the woods but it was nice! We were out of the house, no TV was on, it was awesome. Then we realized the front tire of the stroller was flat. That made it slightly more difficult for my husband who was the designated stroller pusher. Okay, that probably made it suck for him I think. So we found a spot in the sun next to the lake and Bubu threw rocks in the water for at least 10 minutes which felt like 4 hours. Then after dragging him away from the rocks, we headed back home.
That week I realized it was my duty to fix the tire on the stroller. I took it to a bike repair shop and got it fixed Tuesday at lunch. It was flat when I got home that night. I went on Wednesday on got it repaired again. It was flat again when I got home that night. I took a breather on Thursday so that I wouldn't unleash the wrath of Keya on the bike repair guys. Finally on Friday, I went again and got the tube replaced which worked. Needless to say, skipping lunch for three days to fix the hiking stroller tire was not a highlight of my life.
We looked up stroller friendly trails and headed out Saturday afternoon. Once again it was a long and windy road, but it was gorgeous views and we were excited to find our trail. About halfway up the hill, Bubu told us he wanted to get out, we tried to console him and told him we were almost there. He tried to tell us again about 5 more miles down the windy road, and we again said to sit tight, almost there buddy. Then he puked. And puked and puked. We stopped immediately and pulled Bubu out of his puke covered seat. I felt so bad for the little guy. Crying, covered in nastiness on the side of the road. We've actually done this before with Peewee in the snow so we tag teamed the cleanup, put Bubu in a clean sweatshirt, baby wiped everything down, and headed the last couple minutes to the entrance of the trail with Bubu in the front seat with me.
We had a good time once again, it was nice to be outside. Jackson busted and scraped his knee but seemed to stop crying when mommy and daddy sand songs, so we sang our standard choices, Old McDonald, Itsy Bitsy Spider, and Baby Got Back. He then had fun throwing rocks in the lake which I feel will be a requirement of all our hiking trips. In spite of the puke and bloody knee, we learned a lot and have picked out our next trail for next Saturday.
We'll see how it goes next week, with some Dramamine before we get in car.
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