Let's see... Andrew and I took our FIRST post-Chloe vacation to Santa Fe alone and it was fabulous. Three full days of eating, treating ourselves to the Inn at Loretto Spa (ahhhhmazing) and laying low. Santa Fe feeds my soul in a way that only Santa Fe can. Andrew loves it too, but definitely humors me as a walk around deeply inhaling every five feet and telling him what we can do when we retire here. I finally got to the Georgia O'Keefe museum and was a bit let down. It was primarily her early art and I was interested, but had been excited to see her beautiful flowers. Eh. Oh well, we still learned that she was as fascinating as I had assumed. Anyway, the weekend was exactly at we needed. Although, I must say, that was about as long as I would prefer to be gone from the Bee Bop at this point.
Next up was our vacation to see Brooke (Auntie Bubs) in North Carolina. We have missed visiting over the past year due to Chloe's arrival and the craziness that ensued with having a baby. So, Andrew and I were excited to finally get Chloe up there for a visit. As you can see below, at the beginning of the trip we were smiling. All of us. Happy. Excited. Travelers.
No pictures were taken at the end of the five hour trip in order to protect the innocent. And, just to clarify NO pictures were taken throughout our travels back home to San Antonio. Reasons to follow.
For those of you that followed my blog back when, I wrote a little ditty about a day trip to Fredericksburg, Tx that we took when Chloe was 8 weeks old. It ended badly. As in, Chloe was wearing new overpriced tie dyed "Keep Austin Weird" onesie...three poopy explosions later. Well, this didn't involve three poopy diapers, but DID involve one poopy explosion during take-off and a hand/wrist/arm (being of the mother kind) full of poop. Did I mention it was during take off? Well, it was. And I'm talking wheels coming up from the ground, seat belts fastened, no turning back tack-off. I look down and Chloe is working hard at something in her pants. I'll save you the gory details, but I will tell you this occurred AFTER a previous three hour flight that was supposed to take two hours (due to headwind?) and a fussy baby who noted that she was uninterested in flying again as we boarded the plane. Cue the poop.
And yes, there was a poor victim sitting in our aisle because we cheapies didn't buy Chloe a seat. #firsttimeparentsarestupid
However, I will note that each time we boarded a flight (going and coming back) we bought every person around us a $5 Starbucks gift card. It was pretty nice of us, I must admit. Why? Buying their patience, duh. Andrew told each person that Chloe bought them a cup of coffee in appreciation for their patience. Haha. It worked. Not a peep about our stinky, loud, attention-demanding daughter.
Anyway, back to the poop.
So the wheels pull up and the poop comes out. I cringe because I'm not sure what to do. It stinks. I'm hot. I'm tired and about to lose it. But, before I do... I came up with an ingenious plan to get rid of the smell. I did what I assumed any sane, reasonable person would do. I went in and got it. Yup. Without a blink I looked at Andrew and said, load me up with wipes. Wrap my entire fist in them...I'm going in.
Before you judge, hear me out. I knew it was going to smell. I knew she couldn't sit in it. I knew I had Arm & Hammer bags to throw it in. I *thought* it would stink worse to change her standing up between my legs (as I had done with pee pee diapers the entire trip) {stops to take a bow}. So, I assumed I had only one option and that was to excavate the poop.
Andrew looked at me with crazy eyes. I didn't care. If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem. He grabbed the wipes, I wrapped my hands and without another word, my hand was so far in her diaper I didn't know which way was up. About the time I realized she had pooped up her diaper and it was now covering my upper arm and now her shirt, she let out a mighty scream to alert the plane of my wrong doing. At that point, while trying to distract her and terribly failing, I've decided that I can't pull my arm out without getting poop on the seat in front of me, so I take one for the team, pull her against me and pull out. Now, perhaps you read my assumption above that I hypothesized it would stink more to change her or to let her sit in it. That was incorrect. What stinks more, I learned, is to hold the poop in your hand in in the *fresh* air. Who would have guessed?
At this point, Chloe is screaming, I need a towel to wipe the sweat dripping off my brow and I am quickly thrown right back into that bathroom in Fredericksburg, Tx. A place I never, ever wanted to visit. Andrew is still staring, mind you. He opens the Arm & Hammer bag enough for me to drop my findings and immediately seals it (those don't work to appropriately mask a smell in close quarters, FYI). I begin to clean myself as my daughter decides she wants to sit on the floor of the plane instead of be cleaned. And I let her. Sue me. She sat in what was left of her mess for the rest of the plane trip and I continued to stink until I arrived home to shower. No superhero moments at the end of this one, ladies and gents. Just a stinky mom and a stinky daughter.
On a positive note, our money wasn't wasted on those gift cards though. They earned them, don't you think?
Once we got there, life was good. The weather was freezing according to my standards and we had some rain, but it didn't matter because we were finally seeing Brooklyn! Chloe loved every bit her of her non-baby proofed apartment and Brooke was a great sport while watching her things get rearranged. :) We ate lots of great food and had amazing hang out time. Brooke and I even went to the George Strait finale tour and had such a fun night! It was weird to see him in North Carolina and I must admit I was a bit of a Texas snob that night. I may not be a real cowgirl or come close, but I know what a real one looks like and honey, y'all ain't it. :) Plus, George loves us better because we live in the same town and he just likes me better because I said so.
Now if we could only get Auntie Bubs to move back to Texas (cough cough cough) things would be great!
When she got home, she had her 15-month appointment filled with undesired shots and lots of TLC. She did great and is in the 71% for height, 35% for weight and 80% for head circumference. Just where we want her... healthy, happy and big-brained.
After her appointment, she called all her friends and let them know the shots weren't THAT bad.
Then, we met Coco, Aunt Andrea and Baby Luke for lunch. She is getting to be so sweet with him and it makes my heart happy. Although, being sweet with him usually involves trying to poke at his eyes.
It also involves, smelling his feet.
What kind of cousin would she be if she didn't make sure his feet didn't smell?
The next day was Passover (actually it started while we were gone) but we finally got to celebrate with family Tuesday. Chloe had a great time playing with her family and getting all the Ross love possible. Here are some pictures of her second Passover! She even partook in a Ross style Harlem shake. Amazing fun.
Here she is dancing with Great Grandma Hana!
G.G. & Great Grandma Hana!
Getting lots of help negotiating Afikomen from Cousin Allison
And lastly, playing with her favorite new found toy, the dog bowls. Keep it classy, Chloe.
Next up was Easter with her Murphy family and, as always, she had a blast! We had so much fun with her this year because she actually kind of cared, in a mostly not caring way. She went to church and made it through approximately 12 minutes without trying to get out of the aisle. She tried to eat her dyed egg, successfully hunted for Easter eggs and even got a bite of a vanilla cupcake (Lord have Mercy). She loved every bit of it.
Her Easter Bunny loot!
Obligatory church family photo.
Serious 'bout those eggs.
Any good egg hunt ends with a Easter basket swing session.
And that brings us up-to-date. Chloe is loving life. We are loving her (and life) and enjoying each day. She is NON STOP. Says about 8 words (mostly) and is LOUD, happy and FUN!
Peace, Erin
I might have peed in my pants from laughing at the poop story (hey, I've had two kids).
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