10:30 p.m. on Sunday, the flight from Miami to Dulles
The Big Piece of Poop

So how was the rest of the trip? Really great actually. Everything was 100% better with Mom home. We had tons of time in the pool, went to see the Key West fireworks right on the water, and even made a second trip to the Butterfly Museum. That last one wasn’t my choice, but Oliver and I happened to be passing by and he got so excited when he saw the sign that I couldn’t say no. What did we have to do anyway? It’s not like we had previous engagements.

The only problem with these great experiences (butterflies, fireworks) is that Oliver doesn’t understand that we can’t do them whenever the mood strikes us – like we can jump in the pool, watch the Wiggles or rip off our clothes and run around naked (that would be him, not me – must be something about Key West, I had a hell of a time trying to keep clothes on that boy). So the morning after we went to the Butterfly Museum, he marched out of the bedroom and said, “butterflies please!” And of course, if we got into the car to do something really fun like buy groceries or pick my Dad up at the shop, he would be convinced that we were going to see butterflies. Then the same thing happened after we saw the fireworks. He just couldn’t understand why we weren’t racing down to the pier to catch the next showing.

I think that the Fourth of July fireworks may have been the most exciting event that Oliver has ever attended. And even with the crowds and last minute plans, it all went quite smoothly. Although we did have a slight delay in our leave time due to Oliver having a “number two” accident in his pull up. Anyone who has used pull ups with their kids will know that they are not engineered to accommodate much more than a pee pee accident. If the pull up isn’t positioned perfectly on Oliver’s fairly impressive backside, the coverage isn’t quite adequate. Basically, not only did I have to clean up the messy pull up, I had to clean up a little mess on the floor. At least I knew about it and handled it before Oliver could “help.” It never ceases to amaze me how someone who has zero inclination to pick up his toys will suddenly become my best helper when there is poop on the floor. And let me tell you, you haven’t lived until someone walks over and hands you a piece of poop.

Sorry about all of the poop talk, but it’s a minor miracle that I’ve managed to write this blog for the past two weeks without mentioning poop. It’s like the real theme of my life right now with two toddlers in diapers and one preschooler potty training. I should have named my blog “The Big Piece of Poop.” Okay – enough about that – even I’m grossed out, and I’ve actually let my kids puke in my hand.

Back to the fireworks – it was spectacular. Matt stayed home with Mom, so it was just Dad, Oliver and me. Oliver had never seen them in person before, so we weren’t sure if the loud noises would scare him. They didn’t, but he did seem to get a kick out of putting his hand on his head and saying “ouch – hurt my head.” Not sure where that came from – but as long as he was happy, I was content to say, “oh no – are you okay?” (which is the expected scripted response). One thing that struck us as rather odd was that he insisted on calling the fireworks “addition.” The minute they started, he was exclaiming, “Oh look – addition!” After a few questions about what he meant, we just went with it and said, “wow – addition! Look at that one!” My mother figured it out the next day – she asked if he could be saying “magician.” I didn’t think so – it would be more likely that he’d just say magic or hocus pocus. But when I asked, “Oliver, can you say magician,” he gave me a huge smile and said, “addition!” My mother is the original Baby Whisperer.

One other interesting incident from the Fourth is that as we were leaving our parking place, we were accused by the driver behind us of hitting his front bumper. My father was driving, so I would be the first one to ask if he did hit the other car, as well as become skeptical if informed that he did not. But I was in the passenger seat and can attest to the fact that I did not feel anything that resembled significant impact. Okay – here is the interesting part. When the angry man came over to our car to complain, my father just looked at him and said, “no, I didn’t hit your car.” When the man animatedly pointed behind him and said that both he and his wife felt it and he could see the mark on his bumper, my father said, “no, I did no such thing.” And then we drove away. Now if it were me driving, I would have been outside comparing bumper scratches and arguing about whether the man’s scratch was silver (like our car) or in fact white. I would be trying to smooth things over, worrying about what those people thought of me and beginning to question whether I may have actually backed into them without noticing it…. But not my Dad. He just says, “no idea what you’re talking about,” and drives away. It was just that easy. This really gives me a new perspective on my overwhelming sense of responsibility in the world. I may just adopt this novel attitude. Tell me that my membership expired last year? I’m sorry but your computer must be mistaken. Claim that I didn’t give you the full payment due? You must be wrong, since that was definitely a $20 that I handed you. Ask me why there is a big piece of poop on the floor? Poop? What poop?

We had a lazy weekend of long walks and swimming. Dad taught Oliver to blow bubbles in the water and do a sort of underwater half swim – redeeming himself for instigating that “push grandpa in the pool” game. And we even all went out to dinner on Saturday night. I’m really going to miss everyone when we get home. We had a terrible reason to have a wonderful time. But as I’ve said before, we’re taking things one day at a time and only considering one outcome in which Mom will be well again. In the meantime, I’ll have to bring the twins down to see her since she won’t be able to come to us in August as we had planned. And I can’t wait to see those little guys! I may have to wake them up when I get home.

9:30 a.m. first morning back at home
We’d Like to Welcome You [Back] to Munchkin Land

I am SO tired. I knew that I’d need to take a personal health day to catch up before heading back to work tomorrow – but I had no idea how much I’d need it. We didn’t get in until midnight, didn’t get all of our bags (need to deal with that today) and didn’t get to bed until almost 2 a.m.

This morning I was welcomed home by George and Eleanor who appear to have aged about five years over the past week. I forgot how chaotic they make things. I let Oliver sleep in so I was alone with the kids after Chris left for work, and the twins didn’t stop moving or talking for a second. And they have both added many new words and phrases to their repetoire while I was gone.

Eleanor has been my naysayer for a long time now. The answer to any question will always be “no.” “Do you want a waffle?” “No.” “Do you want to color?” “No.” ”What are you reading?” “No.” “Why do you have a diaper on your head?” “No.” Chris said that he worked on this with her over the weekend, and every time she said “no,” he would say, “yes.” So after a while, she caught on and started to work “yes” into her answers. Unfortunately, she’s now just combining the two, and instead of saying “no” will say “no-yes.” We’ll have to teach her to be more decisive before she starts dating…

George wanted to wake up his big brother, so I let the twins run into Oliver’s room when it was time for him to get up. They just climbed up on his little bed and made a toddler pile. It’s not easy to wake Oliver up in the morning. His circadian rhythms seem to run along the lines of staying up late and sleeping late (if you consider 7:30 a.m. late) – so I often feel like I’m trying to get a teenager out of bed in the morning. He pulls the covers over he head, rolls over and whispers, “sweeping” (which means “sleeping”). But he couldn’t resist his little brother poking him in the eye. Yes – it was just too much fun. So the three had a big roughhousing reunion with joyous shouts of “Oller!” from the twins and delighted giggles from their big brother. I’m so happy to be home with my little people.