{ the birthday }

This is going to be one of those picture-heavy deals. 

We've noticed something about Turtle.

He gets very overwhelmed on special days. 

There is crying and general crankiness. It really makes for wonderful memories.


He woke up bright and early, but he didn't really want to get out of bed.

Which gave MacGyver a chance to run to Publix for a Mickey Mouse balloon. Balloons are major winners around here. Major.

We didn't even get to change his diaper when he laid eyes on his gifts.

A Radio Flyer tricycle and helmet,

the gorgeous blanket that Nana knitted for him and a gift bag of goodies.

He immediately made off with the trike.

While Daddy made some Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes, which Turtle ate while wearing his spiffy new helmet.

And then it was time for the rest of his presents. He got some super cute outfits and a very cool kids' digital camera. He loves when I pull out my camera and always wants to take pictures, so Nana & Papa Bear thought he might enjoy this.

Then it was off to lunch at Mellow Mushroom, and a trip to the park.

Turtle loved his afternoon.


When we came home, we celebrated with an ice cream cake. He heard me mention it to MacGyver and has been asking "ice cream cake? ice cream cake?" ever since.

He even blew out his own candle!

 

We had such a fantastic day!

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{ birthday giveaway: sassylicious snack bag set }

In honor of Turtle's big day, three pugs & a baby has teamed up with etsy seller Sassylicious for a fantastic giveaway.


Sassylicious makes adorable custom sewn items, including pillowcase dresses, quilts, toddler backpacks, and reuseable lunch and snack bags.


The winner of this giveaway will select their very own set of one reuseable snack and one reuseable sandwich bags. Sassylicious will coordinate with you to select the perfect fabric for your bags

Both bags feature a machine-washable fabric exterior, and an easy-to-clean plastic interior. Velcro closures allow you to seal your foods tightly inside. Adorable, simple to use and good for the environment, too!


The sandwich bag measures 6.5" x 6.5" and the snack bag measures 3.5 x 6.5".


Here's how to enter:


(MANDATORY) Go to Sassylicious' etsy shop, and leave a comment here telling us your favorite item. Don't forget to leave your email address so we can contact you!

Want some extra entries? Of course you do! Here's how. Please leave a separate comment for each one in order to make each entry count:
1. Follow three pugs & a baby on Twitter and comment with your Twitter name.
2. Follow a Few Loose Threads on Twitter and comment with your Twitter name
3. "Like" three pugs & a baby on Facebook and let me know your information here
4. Add Sassylicious to your favorites on etsy and comment to let us know.
5. Tweet about this giveaway.Just post @3pugsandbaby giving away reuseable snack bag set from @fewloosethreads for Turtle's birthday! http://tinyurl.com/22mabyg and let me know with your Twitter name.
6. Blog about this contest and link back to us here. Comment with a link to your post.
7. Grab the three pugs & a baby button and display it on your blog. Comment with a link to your home page.
8. Grab the Sassylicious button and display it on your blog. Comment with a link to your home page.


Giveaway ends Wednesday, May 5, 2010 at midnight EST. I will use random.org to select a winner and announce on Thursday, May 6.


If the winner does not contact me within 48 hours of announcement, a runner up will be selected.


Open to US residents only.


Good luck! 

*edited to add url to retweet step and to extend dates of giveaway.

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{ two years ago today. part 2: delivery }

If you're not all caught up, you can check out Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Ready?


Ok.

After about 4pm, D came in to work on some practice pushes with me. And to break the bad news. Dr. V would not be delivering Turtle as his double shift was ending. I would have Dr. G. Who was also very nice. But just not the same.

And so we practiced, while the other nurses and assistants came in to prep me (and the area) for our baby's arrival. D pointed out to me a few times that I wasn't pushing as hard as I could or should be. She was an astute one, that D.

I'm going to confess something here. I was fine with a lot of things. I was fine being cathed. I was fine having random people pop into the room while my feet were up in stirrups. But I was 100% NOT going to be fine if I pooped on the table. No way, no how. Silly? Yes. But we all have a "thing." This was mine. And D was on to me. 


Dr. G joined us at about 5. 


And I'm going to just say it. That delivery room was a hoot. We were all joking and chatting. D took the picture of the pugs that we had taped to the bed and stuck it on MacGyver's chest to help me focus better. The nurses were all very friendly and had a great rapport with Dr. G. And somehow, I remember that "The Weakest Link" was on TV and I was answering along with the show to help me concentrate.


D told MacGyver that Turtle was crowning and that he should go check it out, breaking the rule that I had laid out with him that he was to remain above my waist at all times. He clearly thought I was going to forget (I haven't).

And then, at 5:28 pm, in a huge gush (poop free, mind you), Turtle was born.

I cried. MacGyver cried. He was 7lbs, 6oz, and 19 3/4" long.


He was just so perfect. So tiny. So ours.


I held him while the cord was cut and they started cleaning him up. MacGyver moved over with him to the warmer so he could be weighed and measured and apgar-ed (yes, I made that up).

What I'm going to tell you now is what no one ever seems to talk about. 


The "afterbirth."


Perhaps people are just so enamored with their new little miracles that they forget about or gloss over this part. But I'm going to be honest. I was not prepared. I had no idea.


There was something called a uterus massage. Which sounds all nice and relaxing, but it's kind of like being pummeled in the lady parts with a 2x4 until the placenta pops out. And then there was some stitching, which was pretty miserable, as you can imagine. To this day, I have no idea what, exactly, went on down there, and I'm ok with that. 


I was fortunate. Dr. V opted to come back and check on me before he left the hospital for the night. Since MacGyver was otherwise occupied with Turtle, Dr. V sat next to me, held my hand and talked me through it. It was such an amazing kindness.


If you're going to go through a uterus massage, I highly recommend getting a Dr. V. 


And just like that, we were a family of six (you know, three humans, three pugs).


It was the most surreal and wonderful thing in the world.


Photographic evidence of said fact.

Happy birthday, little man. We are so lucky and blessed to have you in our lives. We love you more than words can say.

We'll take a break for a few days and then we'll come back with the rest of the story. There's more? Kinda sorta. 


(Why am I choosing to share this now? Or re-share in the case of those who have been with us for the past two years? Well, a lot went on. And at the time, I didn't really get to reflect on a lot that was happening. It is a bit cathartic for me to put this out there, so I am.)


Also, stay tuned, because in honor of Turtle's Big Birthday Bash, we're doing a giveaway!

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{ two years ago today: part 2, labor }

If you missed yesterday's post, click here to check it out...

If not, our story continues...


I was in Labor & Delivery some time between 4 and 5am. The nurses took over, checking to make sure it was amniotic fluid and not urine (Yeah, I think it's safe to say it was); hooked me up to a monitor to check my contractions (practically nonexistent) and to check my progression (1 cm, 70% effaced).

They got me settled in my room and Dr. V (aka the cute doctor in my group, who is also sweet as can be) came to check on me a little while later. Because I wasn't having contractions, Dr. V talked to me about starting pitocin to help move things along. 


And that's when things really got moving.


I guess I'll point out here that I had a very simple birth plan. The gist was "Have a baby." I was pretty open-minded about everything. I wanted to give it a shot without pain meds, but since I have never been in labor and had no idea what to expect, I wasn't ruling anything out. MacGyver was on board with whatever I wanted to do, as long as the baby was doing well. Fair enough.


On the plus side, even with pitocin, the contractions weren't really bad. I sent MacGyver on his merry way to get the pugs to the vet for boarding and to pick up a few last-minute items from the house. I settled in to wait, assisted by my fabulous L&D nurse, D. 

Did I mention that she was a real-live NFL cheerleader? How lucky was I?


So remember how I said yesterday that I was roundly failed my Breathing & Relaxation class? Well, here's what you need to know: 1. When I'm stressed, I hold my breath and 2. I have obscenely low blood pressure.


Apparently, that combination is really, really bad for labor.


D came in to have a little pep talk with me. First, I kept moving the fetal monitor (Not on purpose. Honest.), and they were losing track of Turtle. Second, my whole not breathing thing was leading to dips in my BP, which, in turn, was leading to dips in Turtle's heart rate. She understood that I didn't want an epidural for pain, but she wanted me to know that I needed to step up the breathing for the baby.


Again. Fair enough.


Unfortunately, you can't just undo 30 years of habit. I tried to do that whole inhale exhale thing and it just wasn't working. My BP continued to dip, sometimes drastically, and some nausea started kicking in. D came back in and we discussed my options. I decided to get an epidural - the hope was that it would take the edge off the contractions and help me get my breathing regulated.


It kind of worked. There were some adjustments that needed to be made as my body got used to it, and I did get sick from it, but we finally got it to a good point: enough that I could relax enough to breathe, but not enough that I could still feel a lot. 


We settled back in to wait some more. We talked. We watched some TV (the hospital had movies, so we saw Hairspray). I played on the in-room internet. 


Around 3:30, D came in to check me again, and overheard MacGyer saying he wanted to swing by Starbucks to get some coffee. She told him that she would be happy to make a fresh pot in the snack room, but she was advising against going far. 


Holy crap. I was going to have a baby!


Gah! Stay tuned!

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{ tips: diy dessert stand }

My friends will tell you I have a slight craft problem. There's not really a support group for that kind of thing, so I just have to muddle through the best I can.


I had found this idea last year, and I didn't keep track of where I saw it, so I will share the link for this one, which I found more recently.


I made mine a little differently, using empty oatmeal and bread crumbs cans, 8" and 10" cake boards, grosgrain ribbon, and scrapbook paper.

First, I traced the shape of the different size cake boards on the back of the scrapbook paper.

And cut out the circles.

Then I glued three cake boards of each size together, using spray mount. I spray both faces of what I am gluing in order to ensure a better hold.

Using more spray mount, I adhered the cut out circles to the top of each set of cake boards.


And then I moved on to the cans. I measured the height of the can (between the tiny metal lips on the top and bottom) and cut out coordinating scrapbook paper.

I sprayed the cans with more adhesive and applied the scrapbook paper, smoothing it as I went.

I measured ribbon to fit the circumference of the cake boards.

And then I used a dot of hot glue to hold the ends in place, wrapping each piece of ribbon around the edge of the boards and securing it as necessary.

And there you have it. Three adorable dessert stands for cookies, cupcakes, or any kind of treat you may have.


Easy, peasy and using supplies you probably have around the house.

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{ two years ago today. part 1 }

Two years ago today was a Monday.

I was 36 weeks pregnant. My 37 week appointment was on Thursday. My maternity pictures were on Tuesday. My local shower was on Saturday.


MacGyver and I were scheduled for a Breathing & Relaxation class at the hospital where I would be delivering.


The irony of the situation is that I neither breathe nor relax. It was (and remains) a pickle. I was not interested in counting or massages. I was even less interested than holding a baggie of ice cubes that was supposed to, but did not, simulate the discomfort of contractions.


I figured I had three to four weeks. After all, first time moms are typically late. 

I could learn how to breathe and/or relax by then.


At the midpoint of class, I went to the bathroom. Shocking. A woman in her third trimester needing to relieve her bladder. Alert the media. 


My bump looked different. Lower.


I asked MacGyver about it. He didn't notice anything. 

We went to dinner. Chili's. MacGyver hates Chili's. But he tolerated it for me. I hadn't plagued him with any weird cravings. It was the least he could do.


When we got home, I didn't feel right. I had to keep going to the bathroom. And I was crampy.


I laid down. I got up. I went to the bathroom. I got my watch and tried to time the crampy feeling, but it wasn't regular or sustained or anything they tell you in class.


So I did what any reasonable human would do.


I tried to go to sleep.

But it wasn't working.


I was up every 20 to 30 minutes, rushing for the bathroom. I was frustrated because I had a 10am hair appointment so that I could be all nice and pretty for my maternity photos with the talented Jaime Smith that afternoon. Of course, whenever you really need to sleep, that's when you can't.


I managed to doze off. 

At about 3am, I woke again. 

I felt a pop.

And I, 9 months pregnant, leaped about 10 feet horizontally, because my water, had in fact, broken.

I didn't have any contractions. And I was really not a fan of the slow leak action, so I did what any reasonable human being would do. I got directly in the shower and yelled for MacGyver. 


Now, MacGyver is not good when he's woken out of a dead sleep. It takes him a good 20 minutes to become even remotely coherent, let alone able to function. But on this night, his Spidey-senses kicked in immediately, and he was on the phone to the doctor before I could tell him to do so.


He reported back that we were to head to the hospital.


Which was all well and good, but I really had no intention of leaving the shower. I was still leaking and it was an awful feeling. I had no idea how I was going to make it into clothes and out to the car for the 20 minute drive without being soaked.


MacGyver started to get organized. My bag was already packed. We just had to collect the camera, cell phone, power cords and the Diet Dr. Pepper (I had given up diet soda during pregnancy. My intention was to be downing a bottle as soon as Turtle was born). 


Oh, and me, of course. 


I finally decided to rip into the stash of pads I had brought for the hospital, and hope for the best. I still wasn't contracting and I felt fine. MacGyver was cracking up to find me on gmail, sending a message to Jamie, apologizing profusely for having to cancel our session so last minute. 


Obviously due to circumstances beyond my control.


And then we were off.

Dot dot dot...

To be continued.

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{ i plan to move into ikea }

And I am not exaggerating.

We visited for the first time on Friday. It's a two hour drive, an adventure unto itself.

The goal was to obtain some shelving for some reorganization we are doing in the house. Turtle and I plan on making the move upstairs to our loft, which will be converted into a play area/rec room/office. 

But they have awesome furniture and decor, a cafe, a child's play area, and all manner of cool stuff. I could totally live there.


MacGyver and I had a few conversations about the type of shelving I we wanted to use. Many of our friends had had great success with the Ikea Expedit line, 

and after doing some price comparison, it seemed that it was worth it, even with the long drive.


But oh, it was worth it. 


For the phenomenal lunch at Elephant Bar (and may I say, if you have the opportunity to visit one, please do),

And for the really cool walk through the showroom. 

I didn't get to browse as much as I would have liked, but that's ok. We got what we came for.

And even picked up this cute baby on the way. (Just kidding. He was with us all along, clearly, and in a much more secure cart situation. I just like how he always ends up on the load when I'm in the restroom).

Stay tuned for before and after pictures of the remodel in the days ahead. 


And despite some horror stories I've heard about missing pieces, this was ridiculously easy to assemble and looks fantastic!

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{ my love/hate relationship with martha }

The last few weeks, I've been busy with planning Turtle's second birthday party.


I have a bit of a party-planning problem. 


I love it. I love it more than ice cream and football and wandering around office supply stores.

As such, I adore Martha.


I scour her magazines, her website, her books. I drool over her details, her concepts, her themes. I'm practically addicted.


I admit it. That's the first step.

We decided to keep Turtle's party low-key.


Because the rational part of my brain, the part I don't listen to enough, tells me that Turtle. Doesn't. Care. He's going to be interested in the balloons and maybe the cake and playing with his friends.

So we chose a carnival theme. Fair food. Some games. Cute favors. Bright colors. I could DIY to keep costs down and make all the food. Easy peasy. 


Until a friend called my attention to this Martha Stewart Carnival Theme Party.
 
I zeroed in on this information:

Any supplies you don't already have at home are inexpensive and easy to find. Decorate in midway colors, play old-fashioned games, and serve carnival staples: lemonade, hot dogs, popcorn, and store-bought cotton candy. For the booths, raid your linen closet for colorful sheets and lightweight blankets; hang them from ropes suspended between trees.

I mean, look how easy! And inexpensive! After all, I can find the supplies in my very own house! And heck, Martha said I can even buy the cotton candy from the store!

And then I realize. None of my sheets or towels are even remotely striped in any color, let alone carnival red and yellow. And we have saplings, not trees. At least I think you call them saplings.

That's the thing about Martha. 


She makes me think I can do these things. She convinces me that all I have to do is poke around my house and I will suddenly find fabric and all kinds of clever little notions to make beautiful creations.


When in reality, I have to go slogging off to Hobby Lobby (I know, I say it like it's a bad thing), and buy supplies. And then I hunch over my kitchen table with poster board and tempera paint, cursing through my teeth because Martha wouldn't be freehanding letters with a paintbrush and bad posture.

Because Martha has people. And plenty of photoshop skills to fix anything that might not look quite right. And a chow who will probably eat anyone who might mention that a line wasn't perfectly straight.


And all I have is a freaking paintbrush and Oscar the pug, sitting on my foot, waiting to eat paint leaks.

But it's ok. As long as Turtle is happy and our guests have fun, it will be worth it. 


And Martha will be back on my list of favorite people in no time.

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{ i'm a guest guru! }

A few weeks ago, Anne Marie of Get Buttoned Up, sent me an email to see if I would be interested in contributing a post to that fabulous website. Something along the lines of tips to make a mom's life easier or anything in that vein. 

 

Of course!

I mean, after all, I love organizing and lists and planners. A trip to Office Max is far more exciting to me than a trip to the mall.  And hey! I'm a mom! I'm totally qualified!

So here it is. Check it out and let me know what you think!


Planning is great; Chasing bubbles is better.

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{ i'm a kreativ blogger }

Not Your Mama's Martha said so!


And she's pretty awesome and has the most gorgeous little girl, so she knows what she talking about. 


According to the rules, I must now...


Post the award. (I think this one is up there with the prettiest).

Thank and mention the person who passed it on to me. (Look up.)

Pass the award on to seven blogs who you think embody the spirit of the Kreativ Blogger Award:

• a belle, a bean & a chicago dog 
• Accustomed Chaos 
• Mom-in-a-Million
• DUTCH Being Me 
• musings de mommy 
• MommyBurgh 

Name seven things about yourself that others don't know:

• I don't like sliced bread
• I am a big, fat scaredy cat if I'm home alone at night and will conduct full-house searches before bed (Including under the car in the garage, in the washer and dryer, and under the beds. Because you just never know)
• I will stay up all night to finish a book if it's that good
• I think American Idol hasn't gotten the memo that it's just not that good anymore
• Related to American Idol, I am terrified of Ryan Seacrest. I think if I ever met him in real life I would cry
• I refuse to wear shorts (this applies to both at home and in public)
• I don't "get" Justin Bieber and I have no intention of doing so

And there you have it! Thanks so much for the award!

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{ he got a pony }

I can't say I'm not a little jealous. 


After all, I'm *ahem* 29 , and I am still waiting for mine.


Pop Pop and Grandma sent this new friend along with MacGyver after his trip to visit them this past weekend.

It was an instant hit.

Can you believe that smile?

Turtle instinctively addressed the grooming issue, too, using his own brush to comb pony's mane.



And of course, he had to give it a kiss.

A boy and his pony. True love.

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{ potty training. for real }

We interrupt your regularly scheduled blogging to bring you this exciting news from the lavatory:

It's time.


I think.


I mean, it's not like your toddler waves a big ol' sign that says "Let's go! I want to send these diapers packing!" It would be nice. But it's expecting a little much. I guess.


Turtle has been exhibiting "cues." 

For example, he has become embarrassed about pooping. He hasn't exactly gone so far as to hide, but he will walk away and get really, really quiet.

And he's also been weird about us changing his diaper. He used to just let us. Now we get a "no, thank you" when we say "let's change your pants!" At the very least, he is polite.


He insists on being in the bathroom with us and has taken to sitting on his potty while MacGyver and I do what we have to do. 

And most importantly, every night for the past week, when the last of the water is draining from his bath, he grabs himself and very deliberately shoots a stream. 

He knows what he's doing.


And so this morning, we decided to try. When I went to change Turtle's morning diaper before nap, I took him in the downstairs bathroom.


MacGyver had a heart to heart with his dad this past weekend and learned that he was taught potty etiquette by being either held over or placed on a stool in front of the big toilet (I forget which, I'm on a writing roll so I don't want to stop to ask). So his contribution to Project Potty was to move Turtle's stool from the kitchen to the bathroom.


Training Note #1. Buy more stools.


I stripped off his diaper and popped him on the stool, with one of those floating toilet targets. He was kind of leary at first. He hung out for less than a minute and wanted to get down. He gave me a "no, thank you" and then ran, pantsless through the house.


However, once I got his pants and diaper back on, he kept saying "Pee pee in the potty?" So I tried to take him back, but he wanted nothing to do with the whole situation. I let it go. I don't want potty and negativity to be associated in his little head.


While he napped, I did some strategic planning.


I know for a fact that he will pee after his bath, so if I put him at the toilet prior to his tubby time, I stand a good chance that he may go. And if I pick another time during the day (when he wakes up, barring any poop situation, for example) and do the same, perhaps it will help him get acclimated.


I don't know. I'm just guessing. 


At bath time, we set up the stool in our bathroom upstairs. Turtle did not want to get undressed and then he didn't want to get on the stool, even though I let him toss the target into the bowl. We finally coaxed him up on the stool, and MacGyver started explaining to him how to go pee pee in the potty.


I thought maybe he was intimidated and ran downstairs to get the potty chair to help out, leaving MacGyver at the helm.


When I returned, the following conversation ensued.


MacGyver: Nothing yet. Let's stick his hand in some water.
Me: What?
MacGyver: You know, stick his hand in some warm water.
Me: Um. I think that only works if you're drunk and passed out.
MacGyver: No way. It totally makes me pee.
Me: Huh.
MacGyver: So are you going to get me some water?


Training Note #2. Stop letting MacGyver watch fraternity house comedies.


Turtle kept trying to step down from the stool, so we moved him to his potty chair. He stood there, as we kept up a steady stream (no pun intended) of dialogue regarding how awesome this was.


And then.


Just like that.


Mr. Potty started singing. Because that's what it does what something (in this case, pee) hits the sensors in the bowl.

Training Note #3: Do not, ever, under any circumstances, distract your standing boy toddler with applause midstream. He will turn his head in the direction of your enthusiasm, and will, as a result, christen your wall. Consider yourself warned.


But he did it! He did! And he was so flipping proud of himself! And we're so proud of him!


I'm not whipping out the underoos quite yet. We still have a ways to go. 

And I can see a lot of consistency and patience is going to be involved, so I'm stocking up on the wine now.

Taking all tips, advice, encouragement and funny stories. You know where to leave them.

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{ victory is his! }

Turtle has a nemesis.


What? you cry is disbelief. How can a not-quite-2-year-old have a nemesis?


Well he does.


It's .... The Straw Cup.


For some reason, he never quite got the hang of it. But that boy? He loves The Straw Cup.


So we have quite the collection of plastic kiddie cups that we've acquired from different restaurants. Upon request, I will stick a straw in the lid and he will make a big show of pretending to suck through it. Occasionally, I'll put a little water in it and he will promptly find a way to dump it all over himself.


I expected no different today.


After a playdate at the park, I swung by Zaxby's to pick up lunch. I ordered Turtle a kid's meal and the cashier handed him the obligatory plastic cup, red lid and bendy straw (because we all know everything is better with a bendy straw).


He followed me over to the soda fountain and I started to pour drinks for myself and MacGyver, when I felt a little tug on my jeans.


"Mommy! Pick you up!" He doesn't quite get the "me" yet.


So I did.


And he held out his little cup to the fountain levers (I know. This level of cuteness should be illegal) and I helped him got about 1/2" of water.


I closed up his cup and told him to go sit on the chairs in the waiting area until our order was ready. 


I saw him put his straw in his mouth. And then I saw the little bubbles of water traveling up that plastic tube to his lips.


Shut the front door!


He had done it!


I didn't have a chance to snap the photos on the spot, so you'll have to settle for the dramatic re-enactment.


Well, hello there, Straw Cup. We meet again.

But this time, I am ready for you.

Victory is mine. That's right. Mine.

I'm so proud of my little guy!


Today? The Straw Cup. Tomorrow? The world.

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{ why do we bother buying toys? }

One of Turtle's most favorite games in the whole wide world is to stand in front of the kitchen counter, staring up at the ceramic jar that houses my cooking spoons, pointing and saying:

"Spoon! That one!"


When I hand him one, he will put his hands behind his back, examine the proffered implement, smile, point and say "That one!"

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Until I've gone through pretty much every spoon in my arsenal, and am taking a second shot at the game.


It will be a great day when he says "Mom, can you please hand me the larger of the two black slotted spoons" or "May I have the purple spatula?"


Today, he added a new twist to our fun game. Today, he requested TWO spoons.


Right.


Sometimes, you have to know when you're outmaneuvered. And I confess, I was.


So I did the only thing that seemed reasonable. 


I put that spoon holder in the middle of the kitchen floor (after first removing the two metal and potentially dangerous utensils from their friends) and said the magic words.


"Have at it."


Could he be any happier?

I don't see why we spend money at all.

He was perfectly content rummaging through my spoons for just over 12 minutes.

I don't think he even wanted one at all. He just wanted to make me show him spoons.

At least now, if when I make impulsive kitchen tool purchases, I can blame Turtle. And not get in trouble.

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{ friends }

On Saturday, Turtle and I joined some friends at a splash park and playground about an hour away from where we lived.

I thought if I filled him up with some Chick-Fil-A, he would nap soundly in the car and be in a fun mood for the afternoon.


Why do I try and predict the outcome? It's really an exercise in futility.


The reality is that Turtle woke suddenly from his nap upon our arrival, was ticked by my audacity in daring to disturb his slumber and after a few minutes of crying, lapsed into a completely antisocial sulk.


Swell.

Flustered but undaunted, I met up with our playdate and her two adorable sons, M and J, and attempted to coax Turtle into some semblance of festive attitude.


He tolerated being changed into his trunks and rash guard. He tolerated the application of sunscreen, an activity which normally fills him with glee.


And then he said to us "Go sleep." He climbed his little bottom back up into his stroller (which was reclined since I had to change his diaper), pulled the canopy down and kicked back.

Alrighty then.

Turtle responded with "No. No, thank you" if we asked him if he wanted to check out the water in the fountains where his little buddies were splashing around and having a grand ol' time.


So I left him, leaning back in his stroller, not sleeping, but staring intently at all the activity going on around him. He did get out for a moment, but a too-cold spray of water hit him and he retreated instantly back to his throne. This time, he made it perfectly clear that he did not wish to be disturbed by pulling up the front bar and asking me to click it into place.

After a while, we moved down to the playground area, and I hoped to lure him out with the promise of a slide and swings. 


Nope.

I did get him interested in a snack, and he munched on some baby goldfish from his stroller tray. M came over to check it out.

Finally, Turtle deemed he was ready to descend from his stroller. He made the move approximately 7" to the bench of the table at which we were sitting. M showed Turtle pictures of his puppy on his mommy's camera screen. Turtle's a total sucker for puppies.

J employed his best "big brother" skills to lure Turtle over to the playground. Turtle was having none of it. He just wanted to stay by the bench and look around.


And then?


Then he was off.


No rhyme, no reason. He was just ready.


There was sliding.

There was exploring.

There was running through the sand.

Adorable. And J was totally incredible about wrangling the two little ones. I have to say that older brothers are the best. 
 

Then it was time to settle down. The little ones were unwittingly dressed in similar shirts from the same line.

Turtle with J and M. Such handsome boys. We had so much fun.

I was sure he would sleep the whole ride home, but he babbled and chatted like a crazy man for the full hour.


And then, just to show me how excited he had been about the special day, he laid a big, fat deuce in the tub.


Priceless.

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