Finally -- an Adventure!

Over the weekend, Little Boy and I went to L.A. to visit a friend who just had a baby.
Big Boy stayed home with MrDartt to do fun Big Boy things that Little Boy is too little to do.
Little Boy and I flew in a little tiny airplane that had propellers. Propellers.
I'm pleased to say that he's a very good traveler. On the way to L.A. (it's about a 1.5-hour flight), he ate lunch then fussed a little, then wrestled me for about three minutes before sleeping for about an hour. He woke up about 10 minutes before we landed and cried for about five minutes as we descended and, I assumed, his ears popped.
The visit with my friend was very nice. She picked us up at the airport, and then we had lunch with my roommate from college. The baby is adorable, of course. We had some good girl time, which was nice. I haven't seen my friend in almost four years!
The only mishap we had was in the security line at LAX -- I'd set his carseat on top of the stroller so I could push him through the airport. The seat and the stroller don't actually go together and as I turned around to pick up the suitcase, the stroller broke, sending the carseat tumbling to the floor, with Little Boy in it!
Luckily he was strapped in, and as the carseat flipped over and over again, he just gave a startled cry. When I turned him over he looked at me like, "What the heck just happened, Mom?"
The man who had lurched forward as he saw the carseat tumbling off the stroller, in an attempt to catch it, said, "Geez, he's a tough little guy. Didn't even cry."
(Probably he was thinking, "And you're crazy, lady!").
These two women were saying, "Oh, my God!" in hushed voices. Then they avoided making eye contact with me.
Anyway, after that I put Little Boy in the stroller and hooked the carseat onto the rolling suitcase and awkwardly made my way through the airport.
During the flight home, Little Boy ate some cookies, drank some milk, and played with toys and an empty cup. He got a little restless at one point and threw himself backwards. He hit his head on the window and cried for a few seconds, then realized how fun that was and did it over and over for a while.
Other than that, he was awake and happy.
When we got to the airport, Big Boy was excited to see us through the window but as soon as we got inside, he was more interested in inspecting the tag on my suitcase than he was in a happy, hug-filled reunion.
Now I've had my adventure fix and I can wait a while for another one!

The Bumblebee - an update

Just a quick update on the bumblebee situation: last night after I put the boys to bed I came upstairs and he was flying around the living room. He finally showed his face.
I couldn't find the fly swatter so I chased him around the house with the dustpan and finally he landed on the wall next to the sliding glass door.
So I swatted him and he fell on the floor but his legs were still moving in slow motion. My mom was there and she asked, "Is he dead?"
"Not yet," I said.
I gave him a few more swats with the dustpan, then I scooped him up and threw him on the back porch.
This morning, that was the first thing Big Boy asked about -- he wanted to know if I'd caught the bee and put it outside so it wouldn't sting him.
I forgot to mention the great example of sheer hysteria I set for him when the bumblebee got into the house. He opened the door and it flew in and I totally freaked out. I was like, "Oh, no, Oh, no, there's a bee in the house!"
And then the bee followed me into the kitchen, where I flinched and tried to duck away from it, screaming.
Idiot.
So of course Big Boy is scared too.
Good thing I got rid of that bumblebee.
The tiny, very loud fly is still here.
And so are about a dozen moths I let in last night when I tossed the bee outside.
Oh, well.

Freaking Out

Right now, there is a HUGE black bumblebee in my house. He's been in the garage all morning, and when I was out putting a load of laundry in the washer just now, Big Boy opened the door between the dining room and the garage, and the HUGE black bumblebee found his way into the house.
Unfortunately, there also is a tiny, very loud fly in my house right now. The tiny, very loud fly is buzzing all over the living room, literally crashing into windows, making me think it's the HUGE black bumblebee every time. I keep flinching, thinking the HUGE black bumblebee is going to come after me in anger because he can't get out the window.
And even worse, I can't find the HUGE black bumblebee anywhere. I want to find him so I can smash him before the boys get up from their naps. But he is hiding. He is using the tiny, very loud fly to fake me out, and before I know it, he'll swoop over and sting me.

Shopping Carts

Call me nosy.
I LOVE looking in people's shopping carts at the grocery store and trying to guess what kind of family they have, what kind of lifestyle, what they watch on TV, you name it.
Like yesterday I saw this tall blonde lady and she had about 18 loaves of bread. Seriously.
I'm thinking she probably has a whole brood of little kids at home and she lines the bread up on the counter, slaps bologne on every other piece and throw the sandwiches together before tossing them down on the long table where all the kids' little hands eagerly grab for the food.
I saw this man and his wife -- he was short with big muscles and a mullet and she was small with big, 80s-style hair, and they were buying crackers. Just crackers. Maybe they had a bunch of cheese and wine at home and they were going back for a romantic evening. They were singing aloud to "Glory Days" while picking out their crackers ... maybe they were planning on taking themselves back, you know?
There was this other lady who was probably in her 60s, and she had on these white cotton short shorts with fake black leopard print and red flowers, with this crocheted top, tucked in, with this huge belt. She was overweight and pale and her legs were very wiggly. Also she had on high-heeled sandals with more crochet. Her fingernails and toenails were done perfectly. Her hair was perfectly coiffed. Her makeup was applied just so.
She asked me very politely if she could step in front of me (I was waiting in line) because she wanted Wintergreen TicTacs, which were on sale, and the line she was in did not have any Wintergreen.
She had a very high voice. I didn't even see what was in her cart and I'm afraid to say, I didn't want to.

"Newlyweds"

I've been doing this new thing where I take my computer and go to a coffee shop and work for several hours, sipping a coffee, powering through my writing with no laundry, dishes, children or dogs to distract me.
I did this on Saturday afternoon, and partway through my writing, I saw a couple coming in the door. They were probably in their late 70s or early 80s, and they were holding hands as they walked through the parking lot.
He opened the door for her.
"Thank you, my dear," she said to him as she walked in.
"You're welcome, sweetheart," he answered.
They walked up to the counter, discussing what they'd order this time, and the guy working there asked if they'd have the regular. They said yes, and she went to sit at a table. Before she got there, she realized she had all the money, so she said, "Oh, honey, here you go," and gave him the money.
He paid and waited for their drinks while she sat down. He brought her drink to her, and she thanked him, so sincerely.
They started chatting it up with the kid who was working there, asking him the name of a newer employee who wasn't there that day. "He's a nice guy," said the kid. "I've known him for a long time."
"Oh?" the woman said, "for how long?"
"Since junior high," the boy answered.
"That is a long time," the woman said, then pointed to the man and added, "I've known him since junior high."
WHAT?!
The way these two had been acting, I could have sworn they were newlyweds or in the dating game. Nope. If my guess was right and they really were in their 70s or 80s, then they have known each other for 60 years or so.
And they chatted away the whole time they were there, talking about this and that ...
I just hope that after MrDartt and I have been married for that long, that we still hold hands, thank each other for things like opening doors and bringing drinks, and have conversations like we're just getting to know each other.
Who ever said romance was dead?

Doctor's Visit

After two days of Little Boy's barking like a seal and wheezing between pitiful cries, we took him to the doctor this morning to make sure he wasn't having trouble breathing.
I felt kind of silly because I just took the boys to the doctor 10 days ago to make sure they didn't have ear infections (mostly Little Boy, because he was so fussy and cried for five hours straight one day).
When the nurse practitioner came in, I told her I promised we're not going to turn into one of those families where she sees our name on the chart and thinks, "Oh, no, not them again."
She laughed but then Little Boy started coughing and she said, "Geez, it's a good thing you brought him in."
He just has croup, which is inflammation of the airways. It was serious enough that the nurse practitioner thought he should have a dose of steroids (and I trust her because she rarely recommends medicine, and only if it's necessary). So she asked about his appetite and I said it hasn't been good.
She recommended a shot.
Uh oh.
So the nurse came in and gave Little Boy a shot.
He cried for about 30 seconds, and then was okay.
Big Boy and I have talked about shots before, because Curious George gets a shot in one of the stories we have. But the concept must be kind of abstract to him still, because when we got back in the car, he asked, "Why did that nurse poke a hole in Little Boy?"

The Contest

For the past month or so, my husband and the members of his "team" at work have been competing in an ab contest -- whoever has the best six-pack at the end of the month will win the money in the pot (each contestant put in $20).
During the past month, this contest has caused a teeny tiny bit of marital strife -- the money spent on protein powder and "No Explode" (a scary-sounding workout enhancer) and the time spent on workouts during the mornings when I'm trying to get ready and MrDartt is pumping away while the boys run rampant -- but last night was the best. The contest was supposed to end yesterday.
MrDartt came home and announced that the contest had been extended another month, because some of the contestants want more time. He's been in the lead, because he's the only one who's been working out and dieting (he has lost weight and put on muscle and he looks great, by the way).
Another reason for the contest extension: waiting on the judges.
"Who's judging?" I asked casually, even though I've had my suspicions from the start.
"All the girls in the office," he responded, just as casually.
Uh huh. I had mentioned this possibility a month ago, and he denied it would happen.
"Who decided they'd be the judges?" I asked.
"I think they kind of decided when they heard about the ab contest," he said.
Of course, he places the blame on them...but in a male-dominated office, it's probably exciting to all of them to be called on for such an honor.
Is it just me, or is this annoying?
All but one of the contestants have wives/fiancees, and could have come up with some way for US to judge the contest (maybe by taking photos or something).
But I suppose having the women in the office judge is way more exciting.
I don't want my husband lifting his shirt for anybody other than me.