My family and I recently went on vacation to Panama City Beach, Florida. We've (by "we" I mean anywhere from 11-13 members of our family) been going there for Thanksgiving since I was a little kid and it's part of the year that I always look forward to. This year, everything was different...mostly in good ways! It was Tyler's first trip to the beach (which he wasn't too sure of), first time in the pool (which he LOVED), our first trip with my new cousin Jack (his sister Mya has been a few times previously), and of course golf, warm weather, and spending copious amounts of time with family. The bad: my cousin moved to California this year and got a new job so he was unable to come and my Grandma wasn't able to come this year either. We missed them a lot. We had a good time as usual, but I started to notice a trend that I would definitely consider a continuing misadventure.
The problem: my son poops EVERY TIME we get out to dinner. It seems like no sooner than we sit down, he needs his pants changed! I find this far more funny than annoying. Seriously, I'm laughing. Right now. As I type this. He was a very good sport and traveler for the 12 hour ride down and the 12 hour ride back and a good sport about being drug all over to unfamiliar places, but the kid has bad timing. If we stopped at a gas station and changed his diaper, he'd poop 15 miles down the road and we'd have to stop again. If we stopped at Cracker Barrel for lunch, as soon as we got our food, he pooped. I'm not real big on letting him sit in it, so of course he has to be changed right away. Needless to say, I (and many mommies out there), get a lot of cold meals.
From this "problem" comes some very interesting observations. I can tell you with confidence that newly built McDonald's have the nicest baby changing stations. I can also tell you that most gas stations have one (when I decided not to change him in the car). The best, though, are family restrooms! What a wonderful creation! I love that I can go into this unisex bathroom (which ALWAYS has changing stations), take my mom or husband with me to hold the bag or help or whatever, and I don't have to wait for the handicap stall to come available, I don't have to try and hurry up so I'm not taking up the changing station time, etc. It's really a great thing. I used my first one at a nice rest stop somewhere in Florida and my second one at the mall in Panama City Beach (where of course he had pooped during our lunch at Five Guys).
Here's one for you though. It was a first. We were out to Thanksgiving dinner at a very nice place with a traditional dinner buffet. We sit down and before I even get my plate....oops! Time to change the baby's pants. So my mom, bless her heart, goes to the bathroom with me. The handicap stall is taken by a mother and her young son, so we wait, knowing there's a changing station in there. They of course take forever, because that's how it goes when you're in a hurry to get back to family and a warm meal. They finally come out and we step inside. No changing table. Seriously?! No changing station? I guess I was remiss in assuming everyone had one of these. We all know what assuming does...
So anyway, now we need a creative solution. I guess our only option in the counter between the sinks. So we reluctantly put out the changing pad (which we scrubbed clean later, ugh) and proceeded to change him, the whole time in awe that there was no changing station. Well, now I guess we know. Not EVERYONE has one of these. It's the little things you start to learn (and get annoyed by) being a new parent that you never even once stopped to consider before. I think I was even somtimes annoyed by the changing stations in the bathrooms. Never again will I take one for granted!
But, alas, the trend continued and my son proceeded to potty each and every time we went to dinner. What can you do but laugh? And write a blog about the misadventure this crazy trend created.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Misadventures of the Borrowers
Have you ever heard of the borrowers? You know, the little people that live under the stairs and only "borrow" things from you that they need for their homes, survival, etc.? I think there was a movie made about them some time ago...but anyway, I have two of them living in my house. They come in the form of white, fluffy, Bichon dogs named Teddy and Tobey (moreso Tobey than Teddy). They borrow anything they can get ahold of, but rarely destroy what it is they take. Most recently it's been socks, dryer sheets, burp rags, and...pacifiers.
We generally keep a good eye on most of this stuff, but don't worry too much since they rarely tear anything up. We purchased a special grabber to get things out from under our king-size bed, so we just retrieve them every now and then when we think about it. Well, as of late, we've had to keep a special eye on the pacifiers. It started 6 months ago of course when we brought our son home from the hospital. He received these special organge jelly pacifiers from the hospital that we had yet to find anywhere else (we later learned our local hospital gift shop had them). So, we had two or three of these and made sure to take good care of them. One day we left one sitting on the couch and left the room to change the baby's diaper. When I came back, it was gone. I didn't think much of it, but figured I had probably left it elsewhere. A day or so later, I looked under our bed and saw what looked like clear plastic pieces. I couldn't figure out what they were, so I just chalked it up to something the dogs had gotten like a hanger, or piece of something else.
This same scenario happened again. I was now down two orange pacifiers and this was disconcerting because we only had one left. This time I managed to find one, the nipple chewed off and it was all clear. It clicked. The clear pieces from weeks earlier were also from a pacifier. So, apparently orange pacis turn clear when mercilessly chewed, in case you were curious. These were the only things the dogs were seeming to destroy. After some loud scolding and some subsequent training sessions (setting a paci on the floor and when they approached it, telling them "no!") for several days, we figured we had solved the problem. We also vowed to be more dilligent about where we left pacifiers.
A little while later when we had apparently gotten comfortable with our new rule and forgotten all about it, friends of ours were over. As they were leaving, my friend asks me, "Have you seen Carter's paci?" We look everywhere. It's nowhere to be found. It dawns on me. I bet it's under the bed. BINGO! It was too late. It had been the latest casualty of the Teddy/Tobey destruction factory. After my apologies and more dog scolding, we vowed again to keep an eye on the pacis. Several months actually passed with no lost pacis, but the orange ones had gone by the wayside. Luckily, we were able to track down some soft green ones you can buy at Wal-Mart that he was comfortable with.
Speaking of comfortable, there we were again, forgetting about our rule. We lost a few more, we scolded, we cleaned up pieces with the grabber. Again, we did really well for the next few months, until our most recent casualty. We left a paci on the couch and it was gone in an instant. It's like my dogs are stealthy ninjas. You hear and see nothing and all the sudden the pacis are gone with no evidence. We began to be concerned that Tobey would get sick from all the plastic he was eating. Luckily, after one big exodous of doggy puke on the floor this morning (sorry to be graphic), we were able to count all of the pieces of the latest paci, so at least the dog will be okay. Our pride, however, probably won't!
So the total stands: Teddy/Tobey: 6 Pleasants/Biermans: 0.
Moral of this misadventure, keep an eye on the pacifiers. Because losing them sucks....(sorry for the bad pun).
We generally keep a good eye on most of this stuff, but don't worry too much since they rarely tear anything up. We purchased a special grabber to get things out from under our king-size bed, so we just retrieve them every now and then when we think about it. Well, as of late, we've had to keep a special eye on the pacifiers. It started 6 months ago of course when we brought our son home from the hospital. He received these special organge jelly pacifiers from the hospital that we had yet to find anywhere else (we later learned our local hospital gift shop had them). So, we had two or three of these and made sure to take good care of them. One day we left one sitting on the couch and left the room to change the baby's diaper. When I came back, it was gone. I didn't think much of it, but figured I had probably left it elsewhere. A day or so later, I looked under our bed and saw what looked like clear plastic pieces. I couldn't figure out what they were, so I just chalked it up to something the dogs had gotten like a hanger, or piece of something else.
This same scenario happened again. I was now down two orange pacifiers and this was disconcerting because we only had one left. This time I managed to find one, the nipple chewed off and it was all clear. It clicked. The clear pieces from weeks earlier were also from a pacifier. So, apparently orange pacis turn clear when mercilessly chewed, in case you were curious. These were the only things the dogs were seeming to destroy. After some loud scolding and some subsequent training sessions (setting a paci on the floor and when they approached it, telling them "no!") for several days, we figured we had solved the problem. We also vowed to be more dilligent about where we left pacifiers.
A little while later when we had apparently gotten comfortable with our new rule and forgotten all about it, friends of ours were over. As they were leaving, my friend asks me, "Have you seen Carter's paci?" We look everywhere. It's nowhere to be found. It dawns on me. I bet it's under the bed. BINGO! It was too late. It had been the latest casualty of the Teddy/Tobey destruction factory. After my apologies and more dog scolding, we vowed again to keep an eye on the pacis. Several months actually passed with no lost pacis, but the orange ones had gone by the wayside. Luckily, we were able to track down some soft green ones you can buy at Wal-Mart that he was comfortable with.
Speaking of comfortable, there we were again, forgetting about our rule. We lost a few more, we scolded, we cleaned up pieces with the grabber. Again, we did really well for the next few months, until our most recent casualty. We left a paci on the couch and it was gone in an instant. It's like my dogs are stealthy ninjas. You hear and see nothing and all the sudden the pacis are gone with no evidence. We began to be concerned that Tobey would get sick from all the plastic he was eating. Luckily, after one big exodous of doggy puke on the floor this morning (sorry to be graphic), we were able to count all of the pieces of the latest paci, so at least the dog will be okay. Our pride, however, probably won't!
So the total stands: Teddy/Tobey: 6 Pleasants/Biermans: 0.
Moral of this misadventure, keep an eye on the pacifiers. Because losing them sucks....(sorry for the bad pun).
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