How We Treat Visitors 'Round Here

Aunt Robyn and Uncle J came to visit us last weekend. It's my excuse for being so lazy about blogging. Okay, that and feeling like crapola for a while. I've been doing a little better, so I'll make more of an effort, promise. Anyway, we summarily tortured her as soon as she got here. She thought she could handle our workout routine.

Oh Robyn, you knew I'd do it. Be thankful that I didn't put the picture of your tiny little butt up here. Everyone, it's hard to take a picture of Bryon and Robyn doing yoga and NOT get a picture that doesn't center around their behinds; a photograph made even more amusing by the fact that Robyn's shirt says "got gas?" on the back. Oh how silly am I?

Collin, did not feel that he could handle the workout routine as well as his father and aunt. He found a better use for the mats.

In fairness to you and because I love you, I will equally tell the world (the tiny portion of it...aka our family) that reads this that you stuck with our torture all weekend, and worked out with me as well; and embarrass me too. See, sweaty, gross Rachel too.

We rewarded/tortured her and J with the antics of our child, endlessly. People who haven't seen Collin look forward to seeing him and can't wait to rush through the door and then after about two hours wonder when he goes down for a nap because he's exhausted them. What's that you say, Robyn? You mean forty minutes of light saber fighting is tiring? There's no sitting if you are a Jedi!

He requires constant entertainment and is a constant source of energy drain and a continual noise-making, talking machine. This isn't a bad thing. As his parent, I kind of like him. I adore him. I also find him exhausting. They caught on quickly though. Car rides were entertaining.

We managed to get a "family" picture after about five tries. J is remarkably good at the arm-holding-out self portrait; even of five people. It's a rare skill. If only it was a resume-type skill. How could you put that on an OPR?

And, we went to, where else, Disneyland? The White Rabbit was shocked, shocked to see us, I'm telling you. Even more shocking was the realization that our passes expire in ten days and we'll have to buy one for Collin this year. Can you believe our child is too old to get in for free anymore. Ugh. Accepting Donations...for my therapy to accept the fact that my child is too old for anything.

Did you know that there are parades at Disneyland?! Yeah, yeah, we know. They are every flippin' day at x-o'clock. We try to avoid them because they are a nightmare. You can't cross the street. They are crowded and they are irritating. We've gotten pretty good at figuring out how to plan around them. You can't see anyway. Anyway, guess what went by the Alice in Wonderland ride while we were in line. Doesn't he look like he's been missing out on something terrific his entire life? Yeah, poor baby that gets to go to Disneyland practically every day.

Did you also know that if you bring relatives with you to Disneyland that don't normally get to pick your heavy child up, they are more likely to do so in a long line when he whines to be carried? Even on a hot day? Even when they are also tired? Wow. And they look pleased to do so. Isn't Robyn's hair nice? It just stays like that. All day. It's not fair.

Ahhh, Disneyland. It really is the happiest place on earth. Even if in the next attempt at this silly shot, Mommy got kicked in the face. Isn't that the story of a Mommy's life?

They even got to try their hands at about an hour of babysitting while I went to the doctor. I left my child in their capable hands and they took him to the park. I told Robyn to apply sunblock because it's been pretty hot and sunny here this week and apparently, this was a photo-worthy event in J's mind. I can't wait for them to have kids.

The first thing she said when I showed up to my sweatball child, who was beet red, was, "I swear, I put sunblock on him."

Perhaps the reason she was concerned about his coloring was the fact that he played this hard. Nope, Robyn, that's not sun-red. That's play-red. Besides, you've got the photo-proof. You put on the sunblock.

Perhaps I should've consulted photo evidence of my own before trusting them with the kid. J is a terrible wagon driver. And he's a pilot folks. An instructor pilot. I fear for our future. It's not even a big curve.

And I have to put this picture up because I'm just not sure what my child is up to. Anyone? He stops at this pole often. Kind of like the dog in that way. He just seems a little too eager to be there, don't you think?

See those sunglasses he's holding? This is what they look like on his face. Just had to show you because he picked them out himself at the drugstore the other day when he promptly put them on and declared he had to have them because as he put it, "these are for boys and are cool." This is before the wagon accident threw them from his face of course and nearly killed him. (You'll of course note,that I don't pull the wagon because I'm too lazy to pull it up the ridiculous hill, and I've been known to actually get in the wagon with him if he asks and be pulled myself; so, I'm allowed to poke fun).

What's that? There's more! Oh yes, more fun was to be had with this visit. There was no rest for us. We went on a Collin-sized hike to the beach. It was pretty hot so it was fun for Mommy to carry the backpack full of waters (read: I got a sweaty back).

We went to the Natural History Museum (and I wish I could write that the way Collin says it because it's way too adorable), where Collin truly loves watching the disgusting bugs. Why are all boys the same?

And, we spent some time chasing the damn white rabbit through the rose garden again.

I'm beginning to think he actually sees a rabbit.

Have you ever seen a kid that's totally wiped out? I mean completely, totally, zonked? This is Collin, ten minutes after I put him to bed after Robyn and J left. I snuck into his room and took this picture.

We spent a long time talking that night before he went to sleep and I asked him to promise me that when he is a big boy, a really, really big boy, like sixteen, he will still want me to cuddle him and talk to him about his day every night before he goes to sleep. He said, "of course I will, Mommy. I love you." Please, oh please let it be true.