You know that wonderful feeling when your kids sleep, and you get a real night’s rest? Nope? Hahaha, me either! The Bug was up at 330, raring to go. I brought him into our bed, hoping to keep Mouse asleep but he was chatting and throwing himself around so by 430 I gave up and allowed him access to books and toys. That occupied him for exactly five minutes and then he’s on top of me, writhing around again while I try and read. I look down and the little shit is now fast asleep, stretched out on me, ensuring my legs will be numb any minute.
I stay as still as possible for as long as possible, but eventually I need circulation back and I gently move him just to have him snap awake. C’est la vie.
We check the forecast, get ready for breakfast, my passport photo, and the Shedd. We’re headed to the hotel buffet breakfast. On a side note, there is isn’t much I get as excited about than a buffet breakfast. I tackle them with a seriousness that is rarely seen in other avenues of my life. You know, like passports. So I’m pumped. Until we get to the breakfast and the restaurant is closed for a private event. I’m too devastated to think clearly and we head to a regular old breakfast…without any of the copious rain gear I brought. Regular breakfast is disappointing but I’m full of eggs and ready to get my picture taken. I’m quaffed, there’s makeup on and everything. I head outside and it’s pouring. I go to get my raincoat and, of course, it’s not there. I’m super excited about my picture. “Whatever,” is my new motto.
Picture is taken, we have plastic ponchos, the awesome British strollers have their own rain covers, we’re set? Off to the Shedd in the rain. We’re early so we wait outside in the driving rain while our monkeys desperately try and escape their containment chambers.
We get inside and it’s obvious that the Bug has to pee so I’m left with Mouse in the long line. I realize pretty quickly that he’d been messing with the rain cover and managed to let in three gallons of water and is utterly soaked. Last pair of back up clothes are put to use as I try and move two strollers through the line while undressing a one year old, changing a diaper, and trying to wrangle him back into clothing. He’s having none of it and is yelling, “peeni,” desperate to show everyone his penis. Am I embarrassed or amused? I can no longer tell the difference.
But we do end up having a great time. Uncle Sam meets us and we’re early enough that the place is manageable and we get some great fish viewing. Although Mouse is really only interested in the lone duck that’s hanging out with some catfish. “More duck!” Is all he says the rest of the day.
We head back to the hotel where the kids get lunch and Derek sends me to get a massage? Yes! Fuck buffet breakfasts, this is what I really wanted. (I’m still having big feelings about missing that buffet.) Afterwards we have a great visit with Auntie Dana and are out to enjoy a playground after I pick up my drown-rat passport photo. We play “octonauts” which really just entails a three year old yelling at me, telling me we need to go explore and expecting me to understand his game/rule changes intuitively. Eh, he’s having fun so I capitulate to his demands and bust ass around the playground carrying the one year old who is determined not to be left behind. Meanwhile Derek is trying to find a restaurant that accommodates all of our wildly different dietary needs. He finds a place with macaroni and cheese that also serves fish. It means my dinner is leftover toddler macaroni and cheese with a baked potato and chips but I’m secretly pretty pleased. All the carbs. Ok. Maybe that’s my new motto.
We’re back at the hotel where I’m trying to use their business center to print out all the documents I need to get my passport but both of their printers aren’t working. I’m about to freak out. But a very kind staff person gives me their laptop to work on and they retrieve my prints from the underbelly of the hotel. I think I’m set for my trip through bureaucratic hell tomorrow.
I repay my hubby and offer to do bed so he can enjoy the hotel pool/sauna. That was a mistake. Both children DEMAND to have mommy hold their hands while trying to fall asleep and the sucker I am keeps running from one to the other trying to appease them and get them to shut up and go to sleep. Luckily Bug was up at 330 and is so exhausted there’s barely any fight in him. Mouse is determined to have me hold his hand while he plays all sorts of, “I refuse to fall asleep,” games. Bug’s so passed out that Mouse screaming, “mommy,” for 10 minutes after I refuse to indulge his BS doesn’t even stir him. Finally they’re both asleep and I’m going to shower and hope for some sleep before tomorrow. G’night!
Travels with Larson and Co 