Dear Zayde,
This week I learned that Mommy has a job. I know what you're going to say. Of course, Mommy has a job. She takes care of you, Zelda. But that's not what I'm talking about. Mommy has another job, one that has nothing to do with me. Mommy uses her computer to write about far away places. Uncle Brad makes her do it. Does he not realize that he's taking her away from precious play time? I enjoy spending a few hours a day with my new friend, though. Her name is Dallas, and she loves playing with my toys and taking me for walks. I suppose that if Mommy really has to do her not-Zelda job, it's not so bad having someone all to myself. Dallas even lets me nap on her while she rocks in that special chair I thought was only for Mommy and Grandma.
This week I learned that I am strong enough to cling so forcefully to whomever is holding me that it is extremely difficult to put me down. Such a useful skill will be handy when my parents begin to enforce what they refer to as "bed time."
I learned that it is possible for rain to fall all day every day for a whole week. This led to the realization that Mommy and I are able to catch a disease called "cabin fever." It's a wretched syndrome that makes us antsy and moody. As soon as the sun decided to peek through the clouds, we were out the door for an extra long walk.
Speaking of getting wet, this week I learned that it's possible to get dunked under water and not start screaming when I come back up for air. I may or may not continue with this style of swimming. I'll let you know if it proves beneficial or if the previous method of ear-splitting, banshee-impersonating is better suited for the long term.
In case you're wondering about my progress with teething and crawling, rest assured that if anything truly exciting were to happen, you'd be among the first to know. I've mastered pushing myself backwards, but that doesn't get me where I want to go, so it's back to the drawing board. As for the teeth, I'm beginning to think that all the adults in my life have been teasing me about something that doesn't really exist. I'll believe in teeth when I feel them.
Glub, glub,
Zelda
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Week 33
Dear Zayde,
This week I learned how to babble. It started with the mmm sound, which I employed at first to show my annoyance and frustration. When my parents showed an interest in this consonant sound, I decided to try a few others. So far, I have been practicing buh, guh, and wuh, but my favorite is still muh. Mommy seems particularly pleased with that last one, but she keeps repeating "dadada" to me for some reason.
As you saw on the boat, I've been trying REALLY hard to crawl. I have learned to get myself propped up on my hands and knees and to rock back and forth a little, but I can't figure out how this will lead to forward movement. I am quite good at staying in "plank pose" and also launching into a squat from a sitting position and then returning to my tushie, but I'm not sure how those will help me, either. What I do know for sure is that my parents have been placing my toys just out of reach and sometimes all the way on the other side of my play mat. Do they not realize how hard it is to pick up my bunny when it's more than an arm's length away? I think they're getting careless. Or sadistic.
Speaking of being sadistic, this week I learned what a swim instructor does for a living. She arrives at the house in a bathing suit, smiles and makes polite conversation, joins Mommy and me in the pool, and then she shows her true colors. The floating and bobbing part isn't so bad; it's the moment that she begins to sing "Ring Around the Rosie" that I know I'm in for a shock. Did you know that there's an UNDERwater? It's like being in the womb, but it's much colder and brighter, and a baby can't breathe down there. I was smart and kept my mouth closed for those terrifying two seconds, but once I emerged into the life-giving fresh air, I let it be known (to the swim instructor, to Mommy, and to the entire neighborhood) that I was completely unsatisfied with my swim lesson and considered the whole morning ruined. That was on Tuesday. On Thursday, despite my frank conversation with Mommy, the swim instructor returned. This time, I shared my feelings about the situation for the duration of the lesson. That's right; I screamed for 25 minutes while we practiced floating, sitting on the side of the pool, kicking toward Mommy, and - inevitably - getting dunked. I hope Mommy got the hint, but I am prepared to repeat my vocal protest if and when the instructor returns.
This week I learned what a head cold is. Suffice it to say, it's like stuffing a whole lot of misery into my nose and letting it slowly ooze out. When Mommy wipes it off my face, she calls it mucus, which seems like an appropriate term for something so disgusting. To add insult to injury, this week Mommy and Daddy have been forcing me to sit in the bathroom while they run the hot water in the shower. This process makes the misery in my nose softer and more likely to drip. If it isn't coming out fast enough for them, my parents then hold me down and drop saline into my poor nostrils. This must be what is referred to as Chinese Water Torture. If it is not, it should be. The worst part - and this is how I know my parents are trying to make me run away - is when they shove that bulb syringe into my nose and forcefully suck out the mucus. It's an outrage! Sure, I can breathe better after the ordeal, but I am not a firm believer in "the end justifies the means," especially when the means are so mean!
Don't worry, though: the tables have turned. This week I learned that I can share. For my first stab at giving back and spreading the love, I gave Mommy my cold. She doesn't seem as grateful as I expected. This might sway me from sharing in the future, but in the meantime, I'm going to figure out how I can shove that bulb syringe up Mommy's nose.
Cough, cough,
Zelda
This week I learned how to babble. It started with the mmm sound, which I employed at first to show my annoyance and frustration. When my parents showed an interest in this consonant sound, I decided to try a few others. So far, I have been practicing buh, guh, and wuh, but my favorite is still muh. Mommy seems particularly pleased with that last one, but she keeps repeating "dadada" to me for some reason.
As you saw on the boat, I've been trying REALLY hard to crawl. I have learned to get myself propped up on my hands and knees and to rock back and forth a little, but I can't figure out how this will lead to forward movement. I am quite good at staying in "plank pose" and also launching into a squat from a sitting position and then returning to my tushie, but I'm not sure how those will help me, either. What I do know for sure is that my parents have been placing my toys just out of reach and sometimes all the way on the other side of my play mat. Do they not realize how hard it is to pick up my bunny when it's more than an arm's length away? I think they're getting careless. Or sadistic.
Speaking of being sadistic, this week I learned what a swim instructor does for a living. She arrives at the house in a bathing suit, smiles and makes polite conversation, joins Mommy and me in the pool, and then she shows her true colors. The floating and bobbing part isn't so bad; it's the moment that she begins to sing "Ring Around the Rosie" that I know I'm in for a shock. Did you know that there's an UNDERwater? It's like being in the womb, but it's much colder and brighter, and a baby can't breathe down there. I was smart and kept my mouth closed for those terrifying two seconds, but once I emerged into the life-giving fresh air, I let it be known (to the swim instructor, to Mommy, and to the entire neighborhood) that I was completely unsatisfied with my swim lesson and considered the whole morning ruined. That was on Tuesday. On Thursday, despite my frank conversation with Mommy, the swim instructor returned. This time, I shared my feelings about the situation for the duration of the lesson. That's right; I screamed for 25 minutes while we practiced floating, sitting on the side of the pool, kicking toward Mommy, and - inevitably - getting dunked. I hope Mommy got the hint, but I am prepared to repeat my vocal protest if and when the instructor returns.
This week I learned what a head cold is. Suffice it to say, it's like stuffing a whole lot of misery into my nose and letting it slowly ooze out. When Mommy wipes it off my face, she calls it mucus, which seems like an appropriate term for something so disgusting. To add insult to injury, this week Mommy and Daddy have been forcing me to sit in the bathroom while they run the hot water in the shower. This process makes the misery in my nose softer and more likely to drip. If it isn't coming out fast enough for them, my parents then hold me down and drop saline into my poor nostrils. This must be what is referred to as Chinese Water Torture. If it is not, it should be. The worst part - and this is how I know my parents are trying to make me run away - is when they shove that bulb syringe into my nose and forcefully suck out the mucus. It's an outrage! Sure, I can breathe better after the ordeal, but I am not a firm believer in "the end justifies the means," especially when the means are so mean!
Don't worry, though: the tables have turned. This week I learned that I can share. For my first stab at giving back and spreading the love, I gave Mommy my cold. She doesn't seem as grateful as I expected. This might sway me from sharing in the future, but in the meantime, I'm going to figure out how I can shove that bulb syringe up Mommy's nose.
Cough, cough,
Zelda
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Week 32
Dear Zayde,
...continuing the tale about our journey up North...
On Sunday, as you well know, I went for my first ride on the boat. You can imagine my surprise when I looked out the window and saw that our surroundings were all floating away. At least, that's what I thought was happening until it dawned on me that we were floating away. Now that I think about it, this must be how you got the boat all the way to Maine. That must have been a long trip. It's a good thing you had Bubbi with you to keep you company. I learned during my first foray into the open waters that boats sway just like Mommy does when she rocks me to sleep. I tried so hard to stay awake during our boat ride, but my eyes refused to stay open. It was a smooth and uneventful trip. I recall something about seals and more lobster, but like I said, I was asleep for most of it. I do recall the return to the marina and was impressed by the pilot's expertise at docking our vessel among so many others. Whoever was at the helm should give my parents a few tips about parallel parking.
Later that day, I learned that a barbeque is a meal that's cooked outside. Auntie Linda gave me a bright pink baseball cap that says "Penn." You and Mommy thought that was an excellent gift, and I agree. When the sun set, my Philadelphia cousins and some of the other guests stuck white fluffy things on the ends of sticks and held them over a campfire. Mommy said they were making "s'mores" but explained that those aren't for babies. I'm getting sick and tired of that line. "It's not for babies," eh? Then I don't want to be a baby anymore. I want to eat things on sticks and crack open lobsters and dance until the party is over. I'm beginning to understand that being a baby isn't all it's cracked up to be. All the excitement at the barbeque made me super sleepy, so I passed out in Mommy's arms. I have a vague memory of being placed in a big bed made out of tree trunks. You know I'm a huge fan of trees, so I was in slumbering heaven that night. Unfortunately, Mommy moved me from that awesome location and returned me to my travel crib on the boat. A few hours later, I voiced my disapproval and wound up back in bed with my parents.
Monday was the third and final day of parties in Maine. That was the day we celebrated your 75th
birthday party. I gave you your present a day early because I couldn't wait any longer. You said you loved the book that Mommy helped me design. I wanted to make sure you had a non-digital copy of these letters - as well as some of my favorite pictures of our family - that you could share with people who come to visit. On your birthday, we went to my Great Grandparents' home. I thought all my grandparents were great, but it turns out that Grammy Jo and Grampy Don are the only "officially" great ones. That day I learned that my father and many other family members are capable of eating lobster multiple times a day for many consecutive days. I suppose I understand how they can do it; after all, I've been drinking the same milk for almost eight months. I wonder if lobster is as good as milk. Maybe next year I'll find out. At the party, I learned that people in Maine don't let a little rain spoil a good time. That's when tents and umbrellas and covered porches come in handy. I learned that Mommy wrote the lyrics to a song about our family, and it's not that bad. The most amazing thing I learned that day is that you are halfway through your eighth decade, and I am halfway through my eighth month. I think about all the things I've learned in the last eight months, and I am boggled by the enormity of what you must have learned in all those years.
Maine was fun and informative, but on Tuesday it was time to pack up and head South. I was sad to say good-bye to you and Bubbi, but I know that we will see each other soon. Feel free to use my high chair and crib in the interim.
I stayed awake during most of the return road trip to Boston, and on the way I learned that there are a lot of Dunkin Donuts in Massachusetts. When we arrived at the airport, I was surprised to see Grandma walking out to greet us and even more surprised when Daddy said good-bye and walked into the airport without Mommy and me. It made me cry a little, but then Grandma climbed into the backseat and played with me until I calmed down. For the next two days, I got to spend some time in Massachusetts with Grandma's sister and even more cousins. I met Kylie, who is 10 months old and prefers spinning like a whirling dervish rather than the traditional method of crawling. Her older brother, Wyatt, was kind enough to return toys to me after Kyle stole them right out of my hands. (Sure, they were "her" toys, but I think I heard someone say that possession is nine tenths of the law, which makes me think that if a toy is in my hands, it must be mine. ALL MINE.) That first night we had dinner with a bunch of grown up cousins. Everyone wanted to hold me and tell me how much I look like Mommy. By that point, I'd lost count of the number of cousins I met in one week - not to mention all the cousins I'd encountered in Florida. Seriously, how big is my family? Am I related to everyone in New England?
The next day, I learned about all sorts of interesting phenomena at a science museum. I observed
amphibians, reptiles, mammals, insects, and birds, as well as a strange species known as "tourists." They're large and emit an unpleasant odor. I learned how a wave is formed and stared at some optical illusions. Mommy fed me in a peaceful library filled with science texts; she said that eating in such an intellectual atmosphere was good for my development.
On Thursday, Mommy, Grandma, and I returned to the airport. I wasn't thrilled about sitting still for that long once again, but I learned that on an airplane, a Grandma is an excellent asset. She reclined her seat to give us some extra room, and then she held me and rocked me for over an hour. I learned that just like my first ride on an airplane, this one concluded with a "descent," which gave me a strange feeling in my stomach and my ears. Mommy attempted to feed me and kept telling me that the swallowing motion would help my ears, but who can relax and enjoy a meal at a time like that?
All in all, I found the entire week's vacation to be a series of adventures in learning. I couldn't possibly write about all the things I saw and heard and smelled and tasted in just a few letters, so I tried to mention the most important aspects of our trip. I learned that I like to travel and see new places and meet new people, and I hope that my parents learned that I am capable of going with them to distant destinations. Life is one epic journey, and it's good to know that like you, I can spend the years learning about our world and its many inhabitants.
Your traveling tot,
Zelda
...continuing the tale about our journey up North...
On Sunday, as you well know, I went for my first ride on the boat. You can imagine my surprise when I looked out the window and saw that our surroundings were all floating away. At least, that's what I thought was happening until it dawned on me that we were floating away. Now that I think about it, this must be how you got the boat all the way to Maine. That must have been a long trip. It's a good thing you had Bubbi with you to keep you company. I learned during my first foray into the open waters that boats sway just like Mommy does when she rocks me to sleep. I tried so hard to stay awake during our boat ride, but my eyes refused to stay open. It was a smooth and uneventful trip. I recall something about seals and more lobster, but like I said, I was asleep for most of it. I do recall the return to the marina and was impressed by the pilot's expertise at docking our vessel among so many others. Whoever was at the helm should give my parents a few tips about parallel parking.
Later that day, I learned that a barbeque is a meal that's cooked outside. Auntie Linda gave me a bright pink baseball cap that says "Penn." You and Mommy thought that was an excellent gift, and I agree. When the sun set, my Philadelphia cousins and some of the other guests stuck white fluffy things on the ends of sticks and held them over a campfire. Mommy said they were making "s'mores" but explained that those aren't for babies. I'm getting sick and tired of that line. "It's not for babies," eh? Then I don't want to be a baby anymore. I want to eat things on sticks and crack open lobsters and dance until the party is over. I'm beginning to understand that being a baby isn't all it's cracked up to be. All the excitement at the barbeque made me super sleepy, so I passed out in Mommy's arms. I have a vague memory of being placed in a big bed made out of tree trunks. You know I'm a huge fan of trees, so I was in slumbering heaven that night. Unfortunately, Mommy moved me from that awesome location and returned me to my travel crib on the boat. A few hours later, I voiced my disapproval and wound up back in bed with my parents.
Monday was the third and final day of parties in Maine. That was the day we celebrated your 75th
birthday party. I gave you your present a day early because I couldn't wait any longer. You said you loved the book that Mommy helped me design. I wanted to make sure you had a non-digital copy of these letters - as well as some of my favorite pictures of our family - that you could share with people who come to visit. On your birthday, we went to my Great Grandparents' home. I thought all my grandparents were great, but it turns out that Grammy Jo and Grampy Don are the only "officially" great ones. That day I learned that my father and many other family members are capable of eating lobster multiple times a day for many consecutive days. I suppose I understand how they can do it; after all, I've been drinking the same milk for almost eight months. I wonder if lobster is as good as milk. Maybe next year I'll find out. At the party, I learned that people in Maine don't let a little rain spoil a good time. That's when tents and umbrellas and covered porches come in handy. I learned that Mommy wrote the lyrics to a song about our family, and it's not that bad. The most amazing thing I learned that day is that you are halfway through your eighth decade, and I am halfway through my eighth month. I think about all the things I've learned in the last eight months, and I am boggled by the enormity of what you must have learned in all those years.
Maine was fun and informative, but on Tuesday it was time to pack up and head South. I was sad to say good-bye to you and Bubbi, but I know that we will see each other soon. Feel free to use my high chair and crib in the interim.
I stayed awake during most of the return road trip to Boston, and on the way I learned that there are a lot of Dunkin Donuts in Massachusetts. When we arrived at the airport, I was surprised to see Grandma walking out to greet us and even more surprised when Daddy said good-bye and walked into the airport without Mommy and me. It made me cry a little, but then Grandma climbed into the backseat and played with me until I calmed down. For the next two days, I got to spend some time in Massachusetts with Grandma's sister and even more cousins. I met Kylie, who is 10 months old and prefers spinning like a whirling dervish rather than the traditional method of crawling. Her older brother, Wyatt, was kind enough to return toys to me after Kyle stole them right out of my hands. (Sure, they were "her" toys, but I think I heard someone say that possession is nine tenths of the law, which makes me think that if a toy is in my hands, it must be mine. ALL MINE.) That first night we had dinner with a bunch of grown up cousins. Everyone wanted to hold me and tell me how much I look like Mommy. By that point, I'd lost count of the number of cousins I met in one week - not to mention all the cousins I'd encountered in Florida. Seriously, how big is my family? Am I related to everyone in New England?
The next day, I learned about all sorts of interesting phenomena at a science museum. I observed
amphibians, reptiles, mammals, insects, and birds, as well as a strange species known as "tourists." They're large and emit an unpleasant odor. I learned how a wave is formed and stared at some optical illusions. Mommy fed me in a peaceful library filled with science texts; she said that eating in such an intellectual atmosphere was good for my development.
On Thursday, Mommy, Grandma, and I returned to the airport. I wasn't thrilled about sitting still for that long once again, but I learned that on an airplane, a Grandma is an excellent asset. She reclined her seat to give us some extra room, and then she held me and rocked me for over an hour. I learned that just like my first ride on an airplane, this one concluded with a "descent," which gave me a strange feeling in my stomach and my ears. Mommy attempted to feed me and kept telling me that the swallowing motion would help my ears, but who can relax and enjoy a meal at a time like that?
All in all, I found the entire week's vacation to be a series of adventures in learning. I couldn't possibly write about all the things I saw and heard and smelled and tasted in just a few letters, so I tried to mention the most important aspects of our trip. I learned that I like to travel and see new places and meet new people, and I hope that my parents learned that I am capable of going with them to distant destinations. Life is one epic journey, and it's good to know that like you, I can spend the years learning about our world and its many inhabitants.
Your traveling tot,
Zelda
Week 31
Dear Zayde,
This letter is two whole weeks late because I've been "out of town." I learned that people can travel far from home. These trips are called "adventures," and I have had quite a few of them recently. I'll write you a letter to commemorate each week, just like I usually do. This one will explain everything I learned during my 31st week.
Mommy and Daddy spent most of the early part of the week packing clothes and toys and quite a few diapers into suitcases. It's amazing how many outfits Mommy claimed I would need for the trip. And how many of them were pink. On the big day, I learned around 5:30 am that it is possible for Mommy to wake me up. I thought that I was performing a valuable service each morning by waking up my parents so that they could start their busy days. It never occurred to me that they were capable of waking up on their own. Our first stop on our way to see you was a huge and busy building called an "airport." I met TSA agents who took my bag of toys and diapers (which was a little upsetting) but then gave everything back. All sorts of strangers stopped to say hello and tell me I'm gorgeous. Nothing new there.
Mommy will tell you that most exciting thing we did that day was ride in an airplane. I disagree. What's so exciting about sitting still? For three hours, we did the usual - snack, snooze, and play - but only once did we leave our seats. That's when I learned that I can have my diaper changed in an incredibly small space. I had plenty of room on the table, but Mommy looked a bit cramped trying to get my diapers off and on. (That day she also changed me in a public restroom and in a car. My tushie saw more excitement than I did.)
When we landed in Boston, I learned that we were in a different state. I have no idea what this means, but during that week, I visited three new states. I'm beginning to understand that this world of ours is much, much larger than the distances Mommy drives in her car while running errands. In Boston, I learned that a rental car is like a regular car but smells like other families. Then I learned that a "road trip" is when Daddy drives a long distance while Mommy gives him directions. I figured they had that part of the journey under control, so I snuggled into my car seat and slept through Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and a good bit of Maine. When I awoke, we were driving past houses not made of stucco and hundreds of trees that didn't look like the palm trees near our home. The car stopped at a marina, and Mommy declared, "welcome to Maine!" and opened the car doors. That's when I learned that Maine is a place covered in fog. There's usually a cool breeze, and it smells like the things that live and die in the ocean. What is most exciting is that you and Bubbi were there to meet us. I learned that you and Bubbi are still on your boat. At first I was really confused: did we just travel for six hours only to end up 20 minutes from our house? But then I realized that although we were on the same boat, it was not in the same water. How did you get the whole boat up to Maine? I doubt it could have fit on an airplane. Did you take it on a road trip?
Once we were on the boat, I learned that you and Bubbi brought my travel crib and high chair all the way to Maine. That was very considerate of you, even though I didn't end up using my crib very much. (More on that later.) That night I learned that people eat lobster outside on long tables set up under tents, even when it's raining. In Maine, the people wear jackets in the summer. I learned that I have many more cousins than the ones I'd encountered in Florida, and some of those cousins are much closer to my age, like Juliet and Blake and Conor. Mommy says that next year I'll be big enough to run and play with all these cousins. Do you think she'll let me eat lobster, too?
At night on the boat, I learned that I would much prefer to sleep between Mommy and Daddy than to spend an entire night in my travel crib. The crib is comfortable enough, but my parents are much warmer. I had plenty of room in the middle of the bed. Mommy said something about hanging off the edge all night, but I slept just fine.
On Saturday, I learned that family and friends from Florida, Philadelphia, and even Canada had joined us to celebrate your birthday. Honestly, it was a bit of a nonstop blur of smiling faces and squeezing hands and the usual exclamations of, "she's so cute!" Sometimes all the attention got to be too much, and I would complain that I'd prefer to have a quiet hour of playing with you and Bubbi, but the boat was full of cousins to keep me entertained, and we had a busy schedule of parties. That night, I learned that adults like to dance. At first I was wary of so many people making so much noise indoors, but then the band started to play, and you hit the dance floor, and I was thoroughly entertained. I learned that I come from a family of people who know how to bust a move. We have rhythm! I also learned how to dance a "slow dance" with Mommy and Daddy. By 9:00 pm, I was tuckered out, so we returned to the boat for my bedtime routine. To tell you the truth, I think my parents were more tired than I was. I could have stayed at the dance and enjoyed a few more twirls around the dance floor, but I didn't want my poor parents to have to go to bed all alone.
That brings us to the next week's adventures...
This letter is two whole weeks late because I've been "out of town." I learned that people can travel far from home. These trips are called "adventures," and I have had quite a few of them recently. I'll write you a letter to commemorate each week, just like I usually do. This one will explain everything I learned during my 31st week.
Mommy and Daddy spent most of the early part of the week packing clothes and toys and quite a few diapers into suitcases. It's amazing how many outfits Mommy claimed I would need for the trip. And how many of them were pink. On the big day, I learned around 5:30 am that it is possible for Mommy to wake me up. I thought that I was performing a valuable service each morning by waking up my parents so that they could start their busy days. It never occurred to me that they were capable of waking up on their own. Our first stop on our way to see you was a huge and busy building called an "airport." I met TSA agents who took my bag of toys and diapers (which was a little upsetting) but then gave everything back. All sorts of strangers stopped to say hello and tell me I'm gorgeous. Nothing new there.
Mommy will tell you that most exciting thing we did that day was ride in an airplane. I disagree. What's so exciting about sitting still? For three hours, we did the usual - snack, snooze, and play - but only once did we leave our seats. That's when I learned that I can have my diaper changed in an incredibly small space. I had plenty of room on the table, but Mommy looked a bit cramped trying to get my diapers off and on. (That day she also changed me in a public restroom and in a car. My tushie saw more excitement than I did.)
When we landed in Boston, I learned that we were in a different state. I have no idea what this means, but during that week, I visited three new states. I'm beginning to understand that this world of ours is much, much larger than the distances Mommy drives in her car while running errands. In Boston, I learned that a rental car is like a regular car but smells like other families. Then I learned that a "road trip" is when Daddy drives a long distance while Mommy gives him directions. I figured they had that part of the journey under control, so I snuggled into my car seat and slept through Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and a good bit of Maine. When I awoke, we were driving past houses not made of stucco and hundreds of trees that didn't look like the palm trees near our home. The car stopped at a marina, and Mommy declared, "welcome to Maine!" and opened the car doors. That's when I learned that Maine is a place covered in fog. There's usually a cool breeze, and it smells like the things that live and die in the ocean. What is most exciting is that you and Bubbi were there to meet us. I learned that you and Bubbi are still on your boat. At first I was really confused: did we just travel for six hours only to end up 20 minutes from our house? But then I realized that although we were on the same boat, it was not in the same water. How did you get the whole boat up to Maine? I doubt it could have fit on an airplane. Did you take it on a road trip?
Once we were on the boat, I learned that you and Bubbi brought my travel crib and high chair all the way to Maine. That was very considerate of you, even though I didn't end up using my crib very much. (More on that later.) That night I learned that people eat lobster outside on long tables set up under tents, even when it's raining. In Maine, the people wear jackets in the summer. I learned that I have many more cousins than the ones I'd encountered in Florida, and some of those cousins are much closer to my age, like Juliet and Blake and Conor. Mommy says that next year I'll be big enough to run and play with all these cousins. Do you think she'll let me eat lobster, too?
At night on the boat, I learned that I would much prefer to sleep between Mommy and Daddy than to spend an entire night in my travel crib. The crib is comfortable enough, but my parents are much warmer. I had plenty of room in the middle of the bed. Mommy said something about hanging off the edge all night, but I slept just fine.
On Saturday, I learned that family and friends from Florida, Philadelphia, and even Canada had joined us to celebrate your birthday. Honestly, it was a bit of a nonstop blur of smiling faces and squeezing hands and the usual exclamations of, "she's so cute!" Sometimes all the attention got to be too much, and I would complain that I'd prefer to have a quiet hour of playing with you and Bubbi, but the boat was full of cousins to keep me entertained, and we had a busy schedule of parties. That night, I learned that adults like to dance. At first I was wary of so many people making so much noise indoors, but then the band started to play, and you hit the dance floor, and I was thoroughly entertained. I learned that I come from a family of people who know how to bust a move. We have rhythm! I also learned how to dance a "slow dance" with Mommy and Daddy. By 9:00 pm, I was tuckered out, so we returned to the boat for my bedtime routine. To tell you the truth, I think my parents were more tired than I was. I could have stayed at the dance and enjoyed a few more twirls around the dance floor, but I didn't want my poor parents to have to go to bed all alone.
That brings us to the next week's adventures...
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