It’s nearly fall! Or autumn, if your vocabulary is classier than mine. Only a few more precious weeks to watch So You Think You Can Dance after the kids go to bed instead of hacking away at homework. Yes, I hack away at homework, just like you. We both use our mental machetes.
As I was looking forward to the start of another term of school, I started to reminisce about the beginning of summer, a time not so long ago when I harbored lofty and totally unrealistic plans of the vast amount of fun we would have. Me, Ryan, B.T., our curious 2 year old, and Baby Ham, who is nursed and therefore requires me to whip it out several times a day, intended to conquer Eastern Oregon and Western Idaho with the enthusiasm of people who had been roaming the same four or five streets since last September.
If you missed my post about our summah plans, here’s a helpful link. If you missed the part where I switch from saying “summer” to “summah,” try to keep up with this vocabulary powerhouse. And if you don’t feel like clicking the link, I’ll summarize the post for you. Oh, wait, get it? SUMMER-ize? Awwwwweeesome word connection. Give me a high five.
Okay, here are the things we intended to do:
1. Ride the Sumpter Train
2. Go to the Boise Zoo
3. Go to the water park (just outside of Boise)
4. Play in the wading pool in our little yard
Here’s how it all went down. I even summoned my back-to-school spirit and assigned us grades for each activity.
1. Ride the Sumpter Train: F. Or F-. We rashly decided to change our plans and went to Boise instead. Our intention was to go to the Discovery Center, a place where kids presumably become better educated. We never made it. I underestimated the amount of time it would take to do…um…ANYTHING AT ALL with a 2.5 year old and a baby who’s still enjoying nature’s finest sustenance. So we ended up at the mall instead. (I wrote about that trip here.) The mall is less educational than the Discovery Center, but has more Starbucks and soft pretzels.
2. Go to the Boise Zoo. A+ and Boo-yah! (I wrote about it here.) We were briefly intoxicated by our accomplishment, but after that our time was just okay. Between all the baby feedings, the 1,000 degree weather, and the creepy giraffe bones, I preferred the air-conditioned 45 minutes we spent in Starbucks afterward. Is it worth it to drive 2 hours each way just to spend 45 minutes in a Starbucks? Sometimes it is, America. Sometimes it is.
3. Go to the water park: I was pretty excited about this trip…until I thought about it for more than 20 seconds. The park contains plenty of water slides, but B.T. is too short to ride them. The only things we’d be able to do with kids of this age are hang out in the kid’s pool or float down the lazy river. Plus, since we’re not regular swimmers, we’d have to buy all sorts of stuff we probably wouldn’t use again: water shoes, one of those round floaties for the baby, rash guards for my white-y whitersons…the whole thing was becoming financially comparable to putting a down payment on a house.
Also, something about nursing in my bathing suit felt exhausting to me. Can I drag a Boppy into a water park? Is that ridiculous? I probably would’ve tried. Or maybe I could’ve used an inner tube after I wiped it off or something. Then if it was hot I could just sort-of peel Baby Ham off the plastic when he was ready to switch sides.
We dealt with the emotional stress by switching to a “staycation” here in Baker City. We went out to breakfast and B.T. ate an enormous pancake. After breakfast, he received an overpriced Transformers toy that took Ryan 30 minutes (with instructions) to learn how to transform. I took the whole day off work, shirked my to-do list and didn’t nurse publicly even once.
4. Play in the wading pool: A+, plus an extra A for effort. This one was easy, unless you consider that it required the strength of twelve Fabios to inflate our cheap-ass pool every time we felt like using it.
In addition to the items on the list, we had loads of other summah fun. We enjoyed being outside as much as possible before the onset of a very long winter.
Inside the house, the boys are starting to learn how to play together. So far, it’s a lot of B.T. trying to get Baby Ham to wrestle with him while I ask him repeatedly to be careful/stop/don’t poke Baby Ham with that chopstick he is too small to play swords.
Brayton had a couple of big-boy classes (I start my big-girl classes Sept. 24). First, Wee Grow at the YMCA, where he joined kids his age for some art projects and social interaction.
Then, his first swim class without me in the water with him. He loved it with a capital L-O-V-E-D.
There he is with his little certificate (which tells us in writing that he refuses to float on his back) and a celebratory package of animal crackers.
Although we also had some good (and vomit-y) times at this year’s Miner’s Jubilee (this post), saw some tractors (here) and middle-aged men riding in tiny cars (here), I am experiencing some powerful summah nostalgia so I’d better stop here.
I am actually really looking forward to what is my very last term at community college. My last two classes are a basic Biology course and the History of Folk Music. Both classes sound kind-of like torture – but the kind of torture that earns you a degree, which is probably a step up from what they do in Guantanamo.