WARNING: I’m gonna complain…ALOT. But I love my child…I swear.
We decided to be brave and take a road trip with the peanut this weekend…I don’t know how people do this on a regular basis!
We started out Friday after M’s valentine’s day party at school when he was totally sugared up and…we soon found out…VERY CONSTIPATED. We pulled over twice in the first hour with Mo gripping J’s hand and pleading “Poop! Daddy Change It PEEZ” We felt so sorry for him and hurriedly pulled over to discover that (disappointingly) there wasn’t anything there. This went on for the entire 4-5 hours to Albuquerque. The trip should not have taken that long…but toss in a pregnant lady with a bladder the size of a quarter and about ten poopie false alarms we were well on our way to acting like the Simpson’s by the time we reached the hotel.
My normally patient husband hates stopping on the road and I think he might have shed a tear or two of gratitude to find out that the hotel’s free cocktail reception did in fact have 15 minutes left when we arrived. J quickly deposited his precious family into a table at the lounge and pounded a vodka tonic. Feeling a bit more human after that…he had a second. Then…Morgan pooped. It was epic and apparently the gateway for 4 more poops that would occur over the next 24 hours…depleting our supply of baggies and travel wipes.
Our hotel welcomed us by hosting some sort of prom/youth conference which amounted to THOUSANDS of teens/preteens wearing forever 21 formal wear and acting silly (READ: Running all over the damn place acting noisy and slamming doors) and the next morning I may have cursed a bit while waiting for a tween surgically attached to her cell phone to TAKE 15 stinking minutes to scoop scrambled eggs at the breakfast buffet while discussing the previous evening to her friend .
Breakfast done, we headed for the zoo–braving 40 degree weather with a child who typically refused to don his jacket…earning us a few “I’m going to call CPS ” looks from the locals. We compensated by spending extra time in the rain forest exhibits which were a toasty 80 degrees and finally wrestled said toddler into his down jacket amidst screams that again earned us “CPS is on it’s way” glances.
My child is usually a delight…but for some reason the change in routine did not agree with him. He pulled some crazy move by spitting into my face while waiting in line for the train where we promptly threatened to throw all purchased train tickets into the trash and leave the zoo…making him scream “I sorry I sorry–Love you Mommy!” Oh CPS…really…haven’t you ever had a two-year old???
We survived the zoo (barely) and took our no-napping Mr Crabby pants to lunch and then back to the hotel where all three of us vegged until Daddy’s cocktail hour arrived yet again. There is nothing worse than hanging out with a screaming and copiously pooping child while pregnant and unable to do anything but stand helplessly by while your hubs gulps down drinks…albeit well drinks…but who cares at this point??
J and I found out that every single one of the restaurants that we had picked for the trip were hosting special Valentine’s day meals and that reservations were booked…we were SOL for anything that didn’t smack of a diner at this point…so we called a local New Mexican restaurant that a friend had recommended and the lady told us that she could put us on the waiting list and we would be “pretty close” to getting a table by the time we got there. Well…we all got dressed, drove across town, found parking…and were handed a buzzer at the door as the chick told us “Good thing you called ahead! Your table should be ready in an hour and fifteen minutes.” WHAAA??
I have to say that Pac Man saved our life at this point. We were loaded down with change in anticipation of the feeders at the zoo and were lucky enough to find an old school combo of Pac Man / Galaga at the restaurant. We kept the peanut from self destruction by yelling “Go Go Go!” as Mom/Dad showed off their mad prehistoric video game skills. I swear it brought back a flash of infatuation from our dating days when we used to go to Dave and Buster’s and spend $20 shooting at things.
Happy and glowing from the pac man game…we ordered dinner and were served a big plate of slop. Apparently “New Mexican means that potatoes are added to ground meat…used as a side dish…and all starch is coated in spicy red chili sauce. The plate was brown and red and you couldn’t tell my chalupa and enchilada from J’s taco and tamales. The taste was good…but neither one of us managed to eat even a fourth of the food on the plate.
The next day, the little guy gave us a break and was perfectly happy and excited to visit the aquarium and museum of Natural Science and History. We delighted in the sea life and Morgan’s impersonation of a T-Rex. Thank God! After lunch, J took the little guy to the pool to play while Mommy got her nap on.
The trip home culminated in Morgan behaving worse than we’d ever seen at breakfast on Monday–we had to carry him out of the restaurant 3x and I thought both of us were going to lose our minds. Our sweet little hippy waitress took my apologies in stride, telling us “Right on! I was a nanny”. Unfortunately we had that damn drive to look forward to and it wasn’t pretty.
I have to say he might be 11 before we try it again….we’ve always flown very well but the car is a totally different story.
We made it home, and my sweet boy returned. HMMMM??