Oh! What a weekend!

An entire weekend of planes, Embassy Suites, and shuttling two children around. We are exhausted. For some reason, it was especially hard this time. For starters, Griffin is increasingly aware of his surroundings, and increasingly sure that he DOES NOT LIKE PLANES. As in:

Nope, no thank you. Please get me off of this flying toothpaste tube RIGHT NOW. Your alternative is to suffer. You will look around apologetically at the other passengers, you will dangle brightly colored distractions in front of me for hours on end, but I will not relent. You think that I will eventually exhaust myself, but I can and will outlast you. I will slobber everything in sight. Oh, and remember how I didn't poop all day yesterday? Well, guess what, I was saving up for just this occasion.

Apparently they have removed the changing tables in airplane bathrooms because passengers were having sex on them. So the right answer is to remove them. Yeah.

On top of that, dearest stepdaughter was on the warpath. Hopped up on the goofballs. Top volume, a whirling pink dervish, spinning her way through the hotel, leaving shoes and stuffed animals in her wake. Sleep is a luxury she simply cannot afford. At lunch on Saturday, she kind of shrieked with her mouth closed, cheeks puffed up like a hamster, "mmmmm.....mmmmmm!!!" What is it? What do you have in your mouth? Wide-eyed stare. " Spit it out. In here." Wide-eyed stare. "Okay, here is an empty bowl. Spit it out." She spits out mostly saliva with some pink chunks, and locks her lips together. "Do you want to go to the bathroom? Do you have to vomit?" Nod, nod. In the lady's room, she spits some more and rinses her mouth out. Nothing like a little acid reflux for dessert, now, is there?

She doesn't like walks. She doesn't want to take a walk. Zoo, yes. Walk, no. No. She doesn't WAAAANT to take a walk. Okay, just down this street. Just over the river. WHY can't we go back to the hotel? She WAAANTS to swim. Okay. We give up. Let's get back in the car and go back to the hotel - save all of our sanity. But look at the ducks! Look at the turtle! Look at the broken glass shard on the sidewalk! Life is full of such wonders, and the trip back to the car must not be hurried.

On the way home Tom reiterated his desire to curtail any reproduction thoughts we might have had. "I'm thinking one."

After tomorrow, I am officially a stay at home mom.