This weekend was Memorial Day Weekend, and the unofficial start to the Summer. Except it was chilly, and we spent the length of the parade wrapped up with the baby...who promptly fell asleep.
We went to a million garage sales and of course Liam got loaded up with a ton of stuff he TOTALLY needed. Like this car:
And this Diego pusher thingy:
(oh, and that hat he's wearing...)
Along with a Sesame Street train yard, some new clothing, two windbreaker jackets, a diaper genie for Nana's house, an umbrella stroller, a pack and play for camping, a rolling baseball backpack for trips to RI...not to mention all the things we actually got for ourselves. You end up looking like this:
...sitting three across in the back set of the van so everything fits. After this picture was taken, we actually ended up going to MORE garage sales. There was no portion of our van that wasn't just stuffed to the brim with paraphernalia. (Try spelling THAT word without spell check. I DARE you.)
My parents and my sister are both in the Donegal Alumni Band so they marched in all three parades on Saturday and Monday. My dad plays the sousaphone, and so we snapped a few pics of Liam with it:
Isn't he a little doll baby? So proud of my little boy. That's what he is now- a little boy. I don't tell people I have a baby anymore. Just a little boy. I think I watched him grow up before my very eyes this weekend. For a mommy who doesn't see her little boy except for in the evenings and on weekends, it was eye opening.
The thing about vacations, and I've heard this, but I'm only now coming to terms with it, is that mommy NEVER gets a vacation. Andy took a sleeping pill, which I encouraged him to do, and he didn't wake up until 11am on Sunday morning. Liam was up at 6:45. Mommy was up at 6:45. Mommy laid down for an afternoon nap. Daddy asked her what she was doing.
We went out for supper. I made sure Liam had something to eat first. "Where's your food?" Andy asked, "I'll get it as soon as you guys are fed." I replied. Liam ended up throwing a fit and Andy paid the bill and took him outside. I didn't even get to finish eating.
The other night we got home. Work was awful. I was glad to be home, and I had a list of things to do. "I'm exhausted," Andy declared, handing me the baby and promptly plopped on the recliner. "You get him for the rest of the night. Can you make sure the clean sheets are on the bed?" What was I to do? Liam is now WAY too big for the front carrier while I'm doing chores. I had to put him to sleep first, and then get all my chores done. He goes down between 9 and 9:30. Who wants to start doing chores at 9:30? So I changed the sheets and went to bed- the rebel that I am. "Are you in bed already??" Was the text I received. "Are you kidding me?" Was the text I shot back.
I've been trying to read "The Great Gatsby" for a week now. I paid real cash money for it- as in, I didn't download it for free. So I get all ready for bed. Brush my teeth. Get in between the sheets. Prop myself up. Adjust the lighting. Zzzzzzzz. Andy has removed it from my hands every night. I haven't even turned on the Kindle.
But I wouldn't trade it. I promise. For all the griping, it's my lot in life and I LOVE it. Look at that baby doll face!! I get to keep that! Look at that strapping husband! I get to sleep with him every night! I'm blessed. So unless the Mommy Bus is making stops at Nap-land or The Land of Peace and Quiet, you'll find me on it, rolling along. :)