Just in Time for Daddy to Come Home

Daddy arrived home today during nap time. It was none too soon for Collin. He spent all week growing up way too fast. It started with an insistence last night that he should most definitely be playing "barn" (which is how we refer to the game of inserting all of his animals through the front door and out the back at projectile speed) at the table. He even has started calling my chairs the "big chairs," or "mama chairs." So, I'm pretty sure he's all grown up. Still, look how cute his little legs look dangling from that chair. It's precious. Thank goodness Daddy got home in time to see him off to college. (By the way, that will be the Academy Aunt Roty, not OSU :)

And, more importantly, Daddy got home in time to stop this! I've tried to tell Daddy that Collin might, just might like a doll, but noooooooo.

Don't worry, it's not his. It's Gracie's. And, he'd only picked it up because Gracie dropped it and he was mildly concerned that the "baby" had been injured. When he realized it was, in fact, a doll, I think he was a bit disappointed with the whole situation; and promptly began playing with it like I'd expect any boy to do. He swung it around wildly and flung it as far as he could until her little plastic head thudded against the bench. Wahoo, look at her fly!

P.S. Poor Gracie cowering on the slide off in the distance. Doesn't she look afraid that her poor dolly is going to be maimed in this awful torture? Don't worry, she didn't cry.

Fort McClain

Guess where we are? No hints. Okay, just one. It's super fun and super cool and there was lots of "secret" telling going on in here, since that's what Collin thinks you do anywhere there's drapey things dangling down, like say, under his bed with the dust ruffle.

Still not sure...Okay, you probably know exactly where we are, but humor us for a second or two longer. We hung out there all morning and it was more awesome than Nutrigrain bars, which is saying a lot; in case you can't tell by the look on Collin's face. We used it as home base to read all of our morning stories. Did you know that if you give a pig a pancake, he'll need syrup to go with it and of course, that is absolutely the most silly thing in the world!
Okay, you've guessed it, we were in a fort. Yes, that's right, Mommy used her chairs, her good chairs, her favorite chairs, to make a fort. Does she love this kid, or what? Yeah, she loves him so much that she missed him last night in the middle of the night, so she snuck into his room and very, very carefully, so as not to wake him up, tucked him into her bed with her so she could snuggle with him. Of course, then I was so excited to have him with me, I couldn't sleep! Anyway, can you tell that I'm an amateur fort-maker? What do you want from me; I'm a girl! I grew up playing with dolls!

It didn't seem to phase Collin. He was totally pleased. It doesn't take much to please him though. He's currently equally as pleased with the fact that he's got yogurt AND crackers with his lunch, which he's using to dip. Ewww. Who dips crackers in yogurt? A toddler that's who. Do they even HAVE taste buds?
In Fort McClain, rules were quickly established...circles HAD to be identified. Mainly, I think because that's the only shape that Collin can both identify AND clearly say. Sure, I know what he means when he says "chitiangle," and "kaare," but no one else does. So, the circle cut-outs on the chairs had to be meticulously identified and peek-a-boo'ed through for at least ten minutes, because, of course, they were in a different place now! Whoa! They aren't in the kitchen anymore!

The only other rule: No dogs allowed. Well, okay. Eddie can come in. I'm not so sure he counts as a dog anyway. What is he? A scardey-cat? I tried to keep him out but Collin, the benevolent soul, decided that he should be not only allowed in, but welcomed with open arms and tons of petting. Eddie was, of course, terrified of the structure but refused to be anywhere else but with us because surely he should be nearby to us, protecting us from the giant blanket beast that was certainly devouring us amidst all the giggling. Stupid dog. I swear that dog is going to die of a heart attack. Homer meanwhile, refused to go anywhere near the thing while we were in it, but if we so much as snuck out for a new story, he was in there like a flash trying to cozy up on a chair or on the six millimeters of blanket on the floor. Cats!

Eddie Hearts Collin and Collin Hearts Vaseline

Eddie's reaction to Collin surviving his near-death reaction to what I've deemed had to be rubbing the oil from the outside of that weird berry all over his face when he started eating (p.s. Mama, time to start washing the kid's hands more often!)? Well, that would be any typical dog's reaction: I LOVE YOU MAN! NO, seriously, I LOVE YOU MAN!

And, have I mentioned, that I LOVE YOU MAN! Don't get out of my sight again! How about I just lay across your body so that you can't move your legs? Does that work for you? It works for me. I know we've had our ups and downs, what with my licking your face and with you chasing me, poking my eyes and occasionally, just occasionally, pulling my ears, but I LOVE YOU MAN! I'm a dog; I forgive and forget, just like that!

Mom's reaction to Collin's near-death experience that really just amounted to a rash? Well, spoiling him, of course. I mean, he's quite obviously watching television...and on my bed. That's my equivalent of getting to go to J.Crew without a spending limit AND without having to take him with me. Can you tell that he's pleased with this bit of spoiling?

Don't worry, he takes it seriously too. He knows it's only for thirty minutes...well, a bit less since it's the Muppets on DVD, so what is that, like 22 minutes? Poor Collin. So deprived. He doesn't even know there's a movie companion to his favorite thing in the world, "Nemo!"

But alas, he's been a bit spoiled today as well since I didn't kill him yet and I consider that to be a bit of spoiling, as he's been tempting me to do just that all day. It started with my stepping out of the shower to him handing me a jar of Vaseline...open. I'm not sure where or how he found it and I'm not interested in how long he had it or what he'd been doing with it and I'm not going to go looking for evidence. I'll just hope he brought it directly to me. Then, he decided that he should bring me his hamper. Why? I'm not sure. I think he wanted me to put my gym clothes in there and clearly bringing my clothes to the hamper didn't make as much sense as bringing the hamper to the clothes. Obviously.

So, when we went to the park today, despite his annoyances this morning, I did not, repeat did NOT allow little Damien to bite him in the face, despite repeated attempts. Yes, little bitey-McGee is back with a bit of a taste for Collin blood again. Not sure why. I thought he was over that, but apparently, Collin looked tasty. His Mom said something about Collin having rosy cheeks. Not sure if that means my son's cheeks look like yummy apples, as if he resembles a food item or what; but the end result is that he's back to being a smorgasbord item. Ack! Oh, and I did save his life and comfort him when he fell of the tippy top of the play structure today after he decided that heck, I'm a big enough boy to leap from the top bar all the way across to the slide. Who needs Mom's help? So, I consider that a good day. We'll see how the afternoon goes.

A Heart Attack With a Stomping for Good Measure

Yesterday afternoon, we took the dog for a walk. He deserved it after his ordeal with sadist vet in the morning. We have these trees in our neighborhood that are dropping "berries" the size of softballs. Okay, they are really only about the size of large cherries, but they are freaking huge and they range in color from red, to pink to weird gray. Considering the birds leave them alone, I find this an ominous sign for their ability to poison a small child, who of course would find such a "ball" endlessly fascinating. This is, of course, what Collin thinks they are because no, they are not squishy, but hard and bouncy.

I gave up telling him not to pick them up and decided to just focus on making sure he didn't eat the little suckers. Good plan, I thought. Besides, he wasn't wandering off from me and I figured I'd notice if he was eating a basketball. It's hard to miss something that big in the kid's mouth. Something that takes more than one bite takes a little while to eat; I'd be sure to notice, right?

Well, we went for our walk and returned and started eating dinner a short while afterward, at which time, my son commenced whining. I guess I shouldn't say "commenced" whining, as he'd been making it a marathon sport all day, as I'd mentioned in my post from yesterday afternoon. But, the whining increased to a pitch that I'm certain was beyond just irritating and was actually something wrong as it was more focused. He started clutching at his neck and belly and yelling, "neck boo boo!" or "tummy boo boo!" And, he started using his armpit and forearm to scratch at the rest of his chest. I'm not sure what developmental milestone it is when kid's learn they have fingers for that sort of thing but I don't think I've ever seen Collin use his HANDS to scratch.
Okay, what's going on? I stripped the kid in his chair. Everywhere he complained of having a boo boo was covered in weird welts that looked like pimples with bright red heads. He was downright hysterical and a broken record of "neck boo boo" and "tummy boo boo." So glad he can talk, by the way! I was less glad to hear "neck boo boo!" and watching him clutch his throat. Was his throat swelling shut? What was going on? Vocabulary kid. Get more--and FAST!

So, I asked him if he ate a ball. You guessed it. Of course, he said yes. And, he also ate a spaceship, a doggie, a cat and a tunnel. But, specifically, he said he ate a ball and it was yucky, pew! Aaaaah! When did he eat a ball? When! When? When! I didn't totally believe him, but what was I supposed to do? Out of the chair he came and into the car we went. Emergency room, here we come.
He screamed almost continuously about his neck and tummy boo boos. Ack! Drive faster. Then, about three quarters of the way there, we saw a bus, then a truck, then some trees that looked like a tunnel and pretty soon, the boo boos got sidetracked by these fascinating discoveries. Sure, he was still whining and throwing me reminders that they still existed; but only intermittently between his exclamations of what he was seeing out the window. Phew. Was he getting better?

So, when we got there and I had to park on the roof of a six level parking structure outside the E.R. (not a good sign for how busy they are!!), I re-examined him and found that the welts had drastically shrunk and I gave him the third degree again. He was still pretty insistent that he ate a yucky pew ball but he said "boo boo all better," then "go amber house," since we were in the same building area as his speech therapist. So, we went home. By the way, he was none to pleased that we did NOT go to Amber's "house." I tried to explain that she wouldn't be there at 7 p.m.; but, you try rationalizing with a kid who just ate a spaceship. It can't be done.

By the way, Daddy thinks I made the right decision by taking our little peanut to the E.R. even though it turned out to be a wasted trip because, heck if he had stopped breathing, we'd be in the right place. But, he made sure to tell me how I made a big mistake by not picking up a basketball, oops, I mean berry and bringing one with me to show the docs when we got there.

SCHMACK! You know what that sound was. It was me smacking Daddy upside the head where he is in D.C. all the way from California for giving armchair emergency advice to Mommy when she'd just finished the super freakout and was still in the throes of pretty much freaking out.

Today, he woke up telling me he had a tummy boo boo and that he ate a yucky pew ball and he made sure to tell Amber the same thing. I still don't know if he did or not; I'm betting not. Regardless, he scared the daylights out of me. I think he enjoyed watching me be terrified!

But, before his nap today, he thought that since I had only had a heart attack last night, my cardiovascular system hadn't been through the wringer enough in the last 24 hours and he wanted to kick it while it was down. He usually says, "I love you, Dada. I love you, Mama," before he goes to bed, regardless of who is there. Today, the stinker looked right at me and just said the Dada bit and then laughed. I asked him what about Mama, doesn't he love Mama and of course, true to his "no" phase, he said no. Little Crapper.

P.S. Pictures today are totally random! Just Collin enjoying what will be his last Jack in the Box meal after speech therapy...hooray! He's all done with speech therapy. Yippee! He's officially considered normal or beyond. I'm so proud. When he finds out he won't be going anymore and worse, won't be getting anymore hamburgers, he's going to be ticked off! And, there's pictures of him playing in the "tunnels" I've been letting him play in the last few days, and consequently torturing Homer. I can't save the cat if he keeps going in there! Oh, and there's me, the way I get most of my shots of the sweet man, with my feet up on the couch, having a magazine read to me. Ahhh, the life. Oh yeah, and is it just me, or is that kid the cutest, most handsome kid on the planet? No one tell me how long his hair is. I know. I know.

Remember...You love Your Kid

It's been one of those mornings. You know the kind of morning where you are tempted to go back in time and undo that conversation with hubby when you said, "hey, are we ready to have a kid?" Since he's gotten closer to approaching that fateful birthday (2), he's decided his new favorite word is, of course, NO! It's made today, especially annoying, difficult, and terrible.

He rambles it off in response, not only to questions, requests, demands and other such essentials; but also at random, even if no one is even talking to him. It seems he wants to make sure that, just in case anyone happens to be listening, his opinion is still out there, in the air, just hanging about, and it is clearly, NO! He'll just be mumbling it to himself as he plays with his animals, his trucks, anything. To combat this annoyance, I ignore him. Consequently, he gets into trouble. Like this:

Collin...are you getting into your sand toys in the house? No, of course not. I'm a complete angel. What's that? I'm irritating you today? Why? Oh, Daddy's gone again? He's always gone, what's your problem? (Of course, I'm joking. He's allowed to play with sand toys in the garage...kind of. And, I don't really "ignore" him. At least only long enough for things like this to happen):

Collin says, "If only I could find more trouble to get into...that's it! Under the beds! There has to be all kinds of tresures under here! What do you mean, no! That's my word." He likes to hide under various beds when it's time to do ANYTHING, like say, go to the vet. It's friggin' hillirious, I tell you. To him. Only to him.

Ahhhh, what a perfectly angelic shot of my sweet boy. What you can barely see is that he's holding a pink crayon on his shoulder that he's just broken to smitherines and he's plotting either throwing it at me or breaking it again. Actually, he hugged me. I'm giving him a bad reputation today, aren't I? But, he did break his crayon...on purpose!

The no thing though--Conversations that used to be perfectly normal have been ruduced to things like this:

Me: Is that a truck? (it is)
Collin: No
Me: Okay. Well, let's put your shoes on. We have to go.
Collin: No. (as he hands me his shoes...no one said he was good at this "no" thing)
Me: Okay. Too bad. We're going anyway.
Collin: No. (as he walks to the door)

This exact conversation happened as we prepared to go to the disaster, oops, I mean vet this morning. While there, I discovered that the vet across the street is perhaps a sadist posing as a vet and that I will never take poor Eddie there again; but that maybe I'll take Homer there, since he did destroy my shoes last week. I also learned that I should always check my purse for my wallet before I leave the house. Grrrrr. And, I learned that hearing "no" four billion times before ten a.m. despite how cooperative (at least 70/30) the kid saying it is, can wear at some essential part of your brain that you didn't know you were using before it finally fails in a small exam room of a sadistic veterinarian's office where you are sitting, without identification, means of payment or any weapon to slit your own wrists with.

Needless to say, the dump truck, books, piles of toys and gaggle of other crap the kid brought into the exam room from the waiting area stopped entertaining him and the worry both he and I had over the fact that sadist vet refused to examine Eddie in our presence and whisked him away to a place where he'd be more "cooperative," added up to a stressful morning. Coupled with the fact that Collin kept saying "NO!" and then melted down into a freakishly loud temper tantrum the moment he saw Gracie and Kari come and go with my wallet, I am pretty sure that the fact that I made it out of there without wiring the place to detonate when I walked out was impressive, especially considering how mad I was at how they treated my other baby, Eddie.

Seriously, I've had Eddie at more vets than I can count over the years and no one's had to take him to "the back" before or called him "uncooperative." And, when they brought him back, he was all wet and shaking! Why would he be soaked from getting a rabies shot and a typical exam? I picture him all chained up and muzzled or something back there. I tend not to cooperate either when someone tries to jam a thermometer up my pooper, but hey, that's just me. I generally get a bad feeling from a vet if no one scratches my dog's head or calls him a good boy, not even once. Aren't the people that work at a vet's office, including the vet, supposed to like animals? Don't ask Collin. He'll tell you no. Poor Eddie says, "please don't take me back to the mean vet!" Eddie's mommy says, "no problem," since it cost almost $400 anyway for them to be horrible to you. Blech! Good toys in the waiting room or not, we are not going back. Oh yeah, and I think their scale was wrong. I know that us gals can be self-conscious about our weight, so maybe I'm projecting my feelings onto Eddie but I don't think he gained almost 15 pounds since the last time he was weighed, that's a pretty large percentage of his body weight, don't you think? That would kind of show a bit more than it does. It doesn't say much for them if their scale is that far off, especially considering that at first, they said he weighed 24 pounds. Huh?

Biff Takes a Hike

When I put the jogging suit on the kiddo this morning, I had no idea, until it was zipped up, just how much he'd look like Biff Tannen. You know, the "just putting the second coat on now, Mr. McFly," Biff Tannen of Back to The Future fame.

The jogging suit is way too cute, but with the blond hair that's just a little too long, a bit (just a bit) of a pot belly, and with a Mommy and Daddy that of course, made him wash his car this morning, it was a striking resemblance. We're cruel. Cruel. Oh, did I mention he woke up with his hair all whacked out, so I had to slick it down while he ate breakfast, so he looked even MORE ridiculous!
Hey, we made up for it. We took the little celebrity look alike to Trump Golf Course this morning. It's about a mile from our house and surprisingly, a public course and park to just wander around on. It's gorgeous and not only has zillions of miles of paved paths that overlook the ocean; it also has hiking trails and beach access. Oh yeah, and it's dog-friendly. Who says the Donald isn't a nice guy? He made this place for us, right?

So, Collin went on a hike....without the stroller! Wahoo! Can you tell he was enjoying himself?

I mean, look at that kid run. His feet barely touched the ground. It's like they have wings...and not in a fairy way. Daddy was slightly freaked out. He kept calling the edge, a "precipice." I didn't even know Daddy knew that word. I was impressed, until he said it enough times to worry me a little too.

So, we were more careful. (While Daddy was looking). What? They have those little gaurd rails! Like he'd fit between those widely spaced pieces of rusty metal cable. What, I ask you, could go wrong?

Then, we got to this sign....

Which overlooked this gorgeous beach access. Hmmm, stay on the safe path or attempt the death defying trail.

How bad could it be? Well, this bad. Remember...two year old (without stroller) with us!

And this bad. It is, admittedly, quite steep. I can see the point of the sign.

Yeah, we did it! Hooray for Collin. He decided after about three steps that it was indeed, too steep for him and he wanted to be carried on Daddy's shoulders. I was pleased because Daddy quickly increased his use of the word precipice in those three steps to about six times per nanosecond; as in, "Collin stay away from the precipice!" and "walk near the middle, not near the precipice." I think Collin may have learned a new word.

But, we had a super time at the water. Collin picked up seaweed. Ewww. At least he didn't pick up the dead bird I saw and neither did Eddie! Phew. Instead, Eddie ran off steam. It was nice and warm(ish) for February. It was, all in all, an awesome morning.

But...we had to walk back UP that crazy hill. I thought of just rolling Collin up, because he's awfully heavy, but Daddy carried him most of the way, despite protestations from the peanut gallery, which wished to walk. Every time he did though, there was stumbling involved and again, increased use of the word precipice, which was always changing sides on him since the trail turned on him with switchbacks. It was awfully confusing to have to relocate the darn precipice. And, even Collin was fearful of what would happen if he fell, seeming to realize that he wasn't in control of the additional rolling backward that would happen.

What there aren't pictures of is the ridiculously awesome public bathrooms. I just had to mention it. I felt like I was peeing at Buckingham Palace. Considering there is a shower in there, and that it's less than a mile from my house, I'm considering making it my "home" bathroom. I can just walk on over there, or heck, take the car (screw global warming) every time I need to go, right?

I think that since Collin conquered this rock here, he's laid claim to the whole place, so no one would look at me funny if I marched right in there with my shower shoes and a robe, right? Oh yeah, and he pooped there right before we left. So, if that's not marking territory as ours, I don't know what is.

Flower Child

A girl always remembers the first time she gets flowers. My Daddy was the first to get me flowers. I won the elementary school election for class secretary. I think it's because I have neat handwriting. Regardless of the reason, I got flowers and I felt special. Today, I felt even more special (sorry Dad, you got trumped) because of a single, horribly ugly "flower," if you can even call it that.

You can probably guess who it's from. He's less than three feet tall, long luxurious blond hair and a cheesy smile that knocks me dead. He stopped to pick this gorgeous flower on our way home from the park. He, of course, has determined that walking to the park like a big boy these days is the only way to travel; except of course on those stretches when he insists on being carried. I'm not sure which is more irritating, the dragging stretches where we have to examine the ground where there once used to be a puddle, or when he insists that he is no longer a big boy, but a baby that should be carried! He made up for it with the flower and the kisses.

He actually stopped dead to pick it, examine it and then hand it to me with absolute pride that he'd selected something so stunningly beautiful for his Mama. What a gift! It wasn't just, "hold this treasure for me," it was "this is FOR you." I was touched, truly. In fact, he said, "petty fo' mama," then paused and added, "fower."

Then, when I asked him to pose with it for a photo, he ate it. Seriously. Yeah, you might think I'm joking, but I'm not. He put the darn thing right in his mouth and popped the head right off the top, giggling with glee. So, I guess there goes keeping it for posterity. What a total boy! At least I got one, semi-awful shot of my sweet little man with my prize before he mangled it. I'll save that shot instead.

And....going in for a bite. Yeah, I should've seen it coming, shouldn't I?

I'm pretty sure that he picked it to thank me for making Daddy pick this car out of the neighbor's trash last month and then spending yesterday afternoon washing the darn thing so he could have it. He played with it all evening shouting "Collin drive car!" He was even talking about it still when we put him to bed. I think it was a successful trash dive. Yes, it was not beneath me to pick that out of the garbage...okay, it was; that's why I made Bryon do it...in the dark.

Little Boys Who Eat Their Greens

When they eat their greens...Do they grow up big and strong? I don't know. I do know they grow big anyway. I know that because Collin has developed a strong affinity for broccoli. Blame his mama who loves, loves, loves the tree-shaped veggie. We put veggies on his plate pretty much every meal and don't make a big deal out of them. Eventually, he's grown to at least tolerate most of them, to an extent. Alas, broccoli has been slow to his list of loves. But, lately, it's been popular, even reheated. And, we all know reheated broccoli is kinda gross.

So, he packed it away at lunch today. He even passed up his stove top and rice-a-roni for it. Can you tell it was leftover special for lunch today. Hey, there was a hot dog in there too! We covered a lot of food groups with that lunch, I think, including the mashed up "meat in a casing" group. I'm just tickled that the most he ate was both broccoli and hot dog.

Anyway, as he jammed his mouth full of broccoli, it became a sport. Literally. He was challenging himself to see how much he could get in there at once and wanted my help. He couldn't coordinate his fork, hand and mouth all at once. If he tried, broccoli fell out. So, I had to assist. So long as more broccoli was getting down that gullet, I was game for this food sport. What they hey, right?

And, since he was such a good broccoli-eater, I had to reward that, right? So, broccoli does make kids bigger, at least in this house, and at least when Mommy's around because she's a sucker for giving the kid a cookie now and then. Yeah, the sweetie-face got a cookie for being so darn cute and for eating his greens. Just this once.

How can you deny a cookie to a face like that? How? How, I ask you? Well, I'm waiting for a good answer? Oh, and did I tell you the cute game we invented? I ask him where my hug is and he says things like, "nose!" and then hugs me with his nose; or "ear," and you guessed it, leans in with his ear. Seriously, give that kid a cookie.

And, when I asked him to, he sang the cookie song on cue. With hand clapping motion too! What more could I ask for? I think he earned his cookie. Don't you?

Broccoli update upon exiting chair: portions of broccoli were uneaten and hidden under his butt. Yes, while he did swallow the vast portion of broccoli, some, just some, a tiny portion, of it was jammed under his legs. What a sneak! And he wonders why he can't sit on the big boy upholstered chairs at the table! I have decided not to regret the cookie.

What Looks Like the Most Fun?

Yesterday, Collin didn't want to get up from his nap. This is not unusual. I don't like to get up, either. Ever. What's to enjoy about it? The bed is warm. The floor is cold. Jammies are snuggly. Clothes are decidedly less so. Pillows are smushy. Nothing else is. So, if I let him, he'd blabber away in his crib until dinnertime and be happy about it, especially since his pacifier is in there. Still, I feel somewhat neglectful if I do that too many days in a row; because, shouldn't I be playing with him or something? Human interaction of some kind? I'm kidding, of course, I make him get up when he's awake! At some point....

But yesterday, he was having such a blast with his pacifier. He realized, for the first time, that his spit makes bubbles. Yes, that's a boy. Spit, makes bubbles. And, even more shocking than that bit of juicy info, they sit on his pacifier for an almost indefinite amount of time after he takes out of his mouth and he can make more and more of them as he plucks it in and out of his mouth. Wow! Endless amusement. Needless to say, it was hard to get him out of there. So, what could top that fun?

So, I thought I'd tempt him with the thought of a big boy walk! Ooooh! We normally use the stroller to trudge to the park because it's a whopping block and a half away but in Collin distance, that's about sixty-two miles. There are at least nine million ants to look at; a billion sticks to pick up and the leaves; by God the leaves!!!! to pick up. If we want to get there before dusk, the stroller's the best option. Anyway, we took the big boy route and it was pretty fun. And, it got him out of the crib.
So, was the walk the most fun he had in the past 48 hours? Hmmm. It was pretty fun to make sure all the sand from the playground made it onto the tree trunk. That was pretty awesome too. It's pretty important for mud to get carried from shovel to tree. I was unaware that trees need mud to survive. Did you know that?

But wait! There's more fun to be had. Yep, Disneyland. And, to top our usual Disneyland adventure, we went with Grace and Kari. He was so excited. He kept saying we were going to ride "Peper Pan!" It was adorable to watch them waiting together. Seconds after I took this picture, he finagled his way INTO the planter section. Don't ask me how, but the other patrons found it immensely amusing. I did not. The kid is always in my sights and I have a hand on him 98% of the time. It was an impressive escape. I'm amazed at his cunning.

For more fun, we rode the teacups again and again there was no vomit. So, that's always good. Collin managed to figure out how to turn the wheel in the center this time for added spin-a-tude, so I'm nervous for rides from here on out. Since the wind resistance had him plastered to the side wall this time, it was a safe bet that he could hardly reach the wheel most of the time. And, since Grace thinks you spin it in the opposite direction, we were all safe from barfing.

Still, I think he might've enjoyed the carousel most of all because it was something he hadn't ridden before. He kept yelling "up high! down low!" each time it bobbed. The best part for Mommy, the most fun for her? When Collin kissed his horse goodbye. How cute is that?

He was ONCE scared of a carousel about six months ago in Santa Monica, so I was a bit nervous about riding this, as it's the only thing, other than dastardly dust I can honestly say that this kid has ever expressed fear over. But, phew, no fear!

The worst part? Two kids in the backseat all the way to the hap-hap-happiest friggin' place on earth fighting about touching one another and pulling one another's hair and crying about it. Yet, if you separate them, ohhhh, it's so awful to be apart. What is the deal with that? Collin cried hysterically for her the second she was out of the car but if she so much as lays a finger on him it's like her fingers are made of hot pokers and the same goes for him touching her. Ahh, young love. Wait a minute, that's how I still feel about Bryon.