Max and I traveled to Minnesota last week for me to give a paper at a conference, and for us to visit grandma and grandpa. It was a great visit, other than the travel -- 2 flights each way, about 90 minutes each. On one flight, I wrote down everything Max and I did.
1. Suck on nuk.
2. Drink milk.
3. Rip magazine.
4. Read magazine.
5. Play with blocks.
6. Put stickers on blocks.
7. Put stickers on body.
8. Put stickers on airplane window.
9. Read books.
10. Put monster stickers in book. Open and close books and pretend monsters are coming out.
11. Play with feet.
12. Play with shoes.
13. Put socks on and off.
14. Put airplane cup on mommy's face.
15. Throw airplane cup at other passengers.
16. Apologize to other passengers for Max's behavior, for just being there, and for ever having had him in the first place.
17. Go to bathroom and explore door latch.
18. Play with bathroom sink.
19. Flush toilet six times.
20. Walk up and down aisles of plane.
21. Play with pen - write in book, on arms, on mommy, take apart pen.
22. Eat food.
This is probably an underestimation of all that we did -- 22 activitites in 90 minutes. My advice for traveling with toddlers: just plan an activity for every 3 minute increment of the entire trip, and you'll be all set!
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Here am I, Lord
I was awakened last night at 3 am by the sound of Wesley shouting. This never happens, so I raced to his room.
He was awake, smiling, and said, "Mommy, I got to pray."
I said, "What should we pray for?"
He said, "Thank you, God, for high hills. Thank you for Maxie and Ollie and mommy and daddy and Wesley."
Pause.
And then, "Mommy, please don't say amen."
It's possible that this will happen several nights in a row, and then I'll be obligated to have him raised by temple priests (I knew I had more in common with Hannah than just infertility!). More likely, though, Wesley has realized that praying is the ultimate request that gets mommy to linger with him at bedtime. Either way, it's dear. He really loves high hills.
He was awake, smiling, and said, "Mommy, I got to pray."
I said, "What should we pray for?"
He said, "Thank you, God, for high hills. Thank you for Maxie and Ollie and mommy and daddy and Wesley."
Pause.
And then, "Mommy, please don't say amen."
It's possible that this will happen several nights in a row, and then I'll be obligated to have him raised by temple priests (I knew I had more in common with Hannah than just infertility!). More likely, though, Wesley has realized that praying is the ultimate request that gets mommy to linger with him at bedtime. Either way, it's dear. He really loves high hills.
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