Ashley went out of town with her friend to San Diego. Just. The. Two. Of. Them.
They left Thursday night. The night was uneventful. A little baseball in the back yard, dinner, baths and some books before bedtime. Nothing really to report there. I was feeling quite confident. But the fates had it in store for me.
Friday morning was much different. Sam’s morning bottle turned into this:
Yep. That's a turtle-shaped hurl spot on the end of the couch. I cleaned up what I could, but was running low on time. In an effort to avoid malnourishment, I gave him some “bland” breakfast of bananas and berries. After seven bites, he promptly ralphed that up too. All over his awesome outfit (one of my few simple joys is dressing the boys up with some style) and all over the high chair and floor.
I was starting to panic. I hate puke. Let me rephrase: I despise puke. Puke and runny kid poop in diapers are my main nemeses. "Remain calm; Ashley does this more often that you know about, probably," I thought. Thankfully, I had not yet donned my suit for work, so I simply loaded my clothes in the car and, like a good father, took them to my mom's house so it became her issue. [She gave him some Sprite and crackers, and the remainder of the day he was fine.] Off to work I went. Panic subsided somewhat.
After work, we had dinner with Ashley's buddy's husband and kids at my folks house. The kids were thrilled (as you can see) to pose for the picture. I certainly don’t go walking around the house brandishing a double-barrel shotgun, so don’t blame me for Jack’s pose. Sam hurled (again) at dinner and then promptly fell asleep at 6:30 pm. I figured I was in for a rough night, but he snoozed until 4:00 A.M. at which point he rocked back to sleep and was down until 6:45 A.M.
Saturday was a big day, filled with T-ball, a three hour and fifteen minute POWER nap by Sam, some lunch at Paradise Bakery, MoJo’s (frozen yogurt), a trip to the club for a few balls on the range (Jack), and then a visit to Jack’s buddy’s house. Zach and Jack watched part of Ice Age 3 (I enjoyed it, Jack was unimpressed), and then they played baseball and soccer outside. That allowed me some much needed time in the lounge chair.
[Either Jack’s sneezing or he’s disappointed with my decision. You be the judge.]
After three-plus hours of play, Jack did NOT want to leave.
Sunday needed some activities, so after church, Jack and I watched a movie about Legos (while Sam napped) and then off to the zoo!
And, with Ashley on her way back home, it was time to infuse them with Kiddie Crack for her arrival. DAIRY QUEEN!
Overall, a successful weekend. A weekend alone with my boys always cements the fact that I love them (despite their desire to drive me slowly crazy) and want only the best for their well being. I also realized this weekend that they are growing up way too fast, that Jack may very well be more intelligent than I am, and that Sam’s sense of humor is amazingly well developed at 21 months.
Puke Count: 4.
Poopy Diaper Count: 3.
“Daddy swears and kicks something” Count: 5.
[Geeky Tech Footnote: ALL of these pictures were taken on my Motorola Droid. I am really digging this phone. I can find fault with any device, but this one is really great.]
