Edgar and I shared a room last night-- him in the playpen and me in the bed. At 6ish, Edgar woke up. To me, it felt like 3 or 4ish, and was definitely not light outside. Both clock radios in the room were unplugged, so I had no real idea what time it was. He was quite angry that I was not his mother, and willing to yell at me for quite a while because of this. After dealing with that abuse for what felt like half an hour, trying to calm him down, sing to him, offer him a bottle, etc., I fled the room looking for the bathroom. I ran into Jen in the hallway, and she informed me that she was awake, that it was morning time, and that if I would fetch a bottle she would kindly take Edgar in exchange for Sabrina. While this was no doubt a magnanimous offer on my wife's part, at I-thought-it-was-3-AM, it didn't feel too kindly. Also not so kindly-seeming was the notification at 8:30 that her shift was done and that it was my turn to wake up and take Edgar potty. It's funny how sleep deprivation colors your thoughts. Thinking back on it, she was being a good wife and very nice to me, but at the time, I couldn't believe that she'd not come to my rescue in the morning when she was clearly awake, and that she would have the nerve to wake me up after that to take care of HER son. Yeah, sorry for being grumpy, Jen.
Despite the grumpiness, my not-quite-awake potty session with Edgar yielded his first real poop on the potty. We were ecstatic. It's kind of sad that our lives focus on (and celebrate) poop right now, but hey-- it's a big deal. And, for the record, it was a lot easier to clean up than a stinky diaper.
In celebration, we were supposed to give Edgar the agreed-upon Sucker for potty-pooping. However, due to our spontaneous and unforeseen stay at Grandma and Grandpa's, we were plum out. This occasioned a Daddy-and-Edgar shopping run for suckers. We picked up some valentine-themed lollipops, and a package of conversation hearts for me (one of my favorites-- nearly pure sugar!), we were home again.
Our day's adventures continued with a trip with Jen, Edgar, Sabrina, and I to the fish hatchery. The visit was fun-- sort of a repeat of the last adventures, but we were able to show Jen around. It certainly was worth a return trip, even so soon.
To give my frazzled mother a break, we went in search of lunch out. We found a neat place in Vancouver called Cafe Sip 'n' Play. We stumbled inside not knowing really what to expect, and found a cafe-type setting attached to a play area geared to 1-to-5-year-olds. Perfect!
First, to wash the smell of fish food off our hands, we piled into the Family Bathroom, which had a kid-size potty, full diaper facilities, and a kids' sink. Edgar, handwashing-obsessed as he is, couldn't be torn away from the sink. To make the sink even more irresistible, they had a faucet that shines a blue LED into the water when it's on. The result is washing your hands in translucent, glowing blue water-- which is of course the best way to wash your hands when you're any age.
We were starving upon arrival. They had a pretty typical deli menu. My pizza was delicious, Jen's sandwich was okay, neither was really filling enough, but the facilities were the real draw.
They had a really large kids' play area, with lots of things to do. There was one enfant terrible 4-year-old who insisted that a large section of the play area filled with pads and pillows was his and that everyone had to help him make a choo-choo train. No other kids were allowed to play there, and he was wrestling (and hurting) anyone who even considered playing there. As the agent of chaos that I am, I announced loudly to Edgar that he should take the pads and build a castle and several other kids picked up on the idea. This, of course, angered our single-minded friend.
It was at this point that I realized that I was the only parent left in the kids' play area, and that perhaps the world was better off without my intervention. It took a shift in mindset, but I left Edgar to the Lord of the Flies situation there. He wasn't the smallest or the youngest kid there, so I just had to let it go. I was, to be honest, a little disappointed to be sitting on the grown-up side of the play area, but I guess it was for the best.
We had a lot of fun over the course of our time there. Edgar was too excited to eat much, but we made up for him. He even went in the little-kid toilet and was rewarded with a blue cookie that he had his eye on.
Home to Grandma's, where everyone in the house participated in a large afternoon nap. I LOVE naps!
Since everyone napped so long, we missed the 3:30, 4:30, and 6 PM showings of the movie we wanted to see. We made it out for the 7:30 showing, but that was pushing the kids' bedtimes by more than a little.
It was SO nice to have my parents around to watch our kids. We're in a weird, in-between place with my parents. Many couples that I know have one or two sets of in-town grandparents and get babysitting ALL THE TIME. I'm so jealous. My parents have braved the hour-and-fifteen-minutes between Vancouver and Salem probably less than 10 times in the 8 years we've lived here. Nevertheless, I can't really complain, because we can at least drive the kids and drop them off occasionally. On the far side of the spectrum are the far-off parents, like Jen's (16 hour drive away) who only visit occasionally. [speaking of which, they're coming this week] We're sure lucky to have one set of sorta-close parents, but we're really jealous of couples with closer parents.
When Edgar was a baby, my parents (in their 70s) began insisting that they were too old to take care of kids, and that they would rather not babysit at all. This was a pretty sad moment, but completely understandable. With the birth of an easier baby, and 2 days of enforced babysitting when the baby arrived, my parents have now fallen in love with both Sabrina and Edgar. I'm glad. With parents in their 70s, it's probable that my parents won't see Edgar and Sabrina's kids, so I hope that Edgar and Sabrina get enough of their grandparents to be able to tell stories to their kids someday.
As the youngest child, I got to watch firsthand as my parents got to be grandparents to a whole generation of kids. I saw the joy in their eyes when the grandkids walked in the door. I saw the exhaustion and the relief when grandkids left. And I saw times when watching the grandkids was a joy, and times when it was a chore. With that observation, I can see that watching Edgar and Sabrina is (mostly) a joy to my parents, and they're glad to see them go, and only kinda glad to see them leave. As such, I don't feel too bad about abusing their hospitality over the last few days.
Anyway, Jen and I escaped to Narnia for two hours. The new Chronic- les of Narnia movies do a really good job at creating a world that I want to live in. Watching the movie was like going home. I can see how the movies aren't for everyone-- overt christian images, fantastic creatures, special effects and battles-- but they're right up my alley. Sure, I had a few qualms about differences between the book and film, questionable timelines (WWII was HOW long?), and cheesy special effects, but the movie was good. Oh, and it had a moment where Jen and I looked at each other and said: "Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man". A quick google search reveals that we weren't the only ones to catch that. Anyway, why the movie critique? It was a wonderful, cleansing, 2 hour escape from screaming kids.
After the movie, we collected our up-too-late kids and made our way home to Salem. I'm up late, so let's see how we do it all again tomorrow.
I, too, love naps.
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