We took a group photo before leaving for Legoland.
Pretty sure this is the only one I didn't ruin by blinking.
The boys rode in W's super cool stroller.
When they weren't examining exhibits pensively (W) and running around like a fruit-loop (A).
We rode an airplane ride round and round and round.
The boys clapped and laughed, the moms tried not to barf.
My Bug ate Cheetos for lunch.
Because anything goes on super special mother-son days.
The mini road trip was the start of so many fun traditions. Fun filled one-on-one days, mama with a single child's hand to hold, a day where there's no attention to split. No mama guilt (that thing I carry so heavily these days) that while I beam at one, the other is in the shadows- there are no shadows on these one-on-one days. The "left behind" child enjoying some special attention from the grandparents, some solo spoiling, time for grandma and grandpa to get to know their first granddaughter without big brother stealing the show. Cozy happy evenings at the house of friends, where wine is consumed as we wear pajamas on the couch and thoughts are shared and more often than not, we are taking the words from one another's mouths. (And wishing the distance between our house and theirs was a few miles, not a few thousand.) Where we realize this is the first time in our four years of friendship that we've shared a drink, so busy we've been having four children in four years, one of us pregnant each time we met.
So clearly, the trip is going well. My baby sister has arrived from LA, and a (one day early) Mother's Day celebration is planned for later today. A beach trip in the morning, Vivi's first, cameras at the ready when her long baby toes reach down to touch the ocean for the very first time in her life. We await the return of little brother from Europe next week, more trips to the park (where there are no mommies, only nannies, because California moms don't do parks), and maybe another pull through the Weiner Schnitzel drive-thru if I'm really lucky. And we're just not thinking about the fact that to get home, I'm going to need to board another plane with two little children for three painful hours of screaming and puking and me longing for vodka. Nope, not thinking about that.
To all my mommy friends, happy mother's day to you. Here's hoping your husband pulls through with a sweet card at least, a shiny bauble at best, and that if it is a card you receive tomorrow morning - it's nothing like the misguided card I received last year. (Love you, J! You tried, Sparky, and that's what counts. But you're never living that one down.)