New Years at Myrtle Beach

If you hadn't already gathered by this photo taken on New Years Day, we spent the holiday weekend at the always tacky-fabulous Myrtle Beach.  We brought along Ashley and John and baby Liam, Another Nathan, and Mr. David (originally of orange shoelace fame). Turns out? Six adults and four babies makes for a slightly chaotic road trip. In case you were curious.

But the weather was absolutely gorgeous. Sunny and 70 in January = God bless South Carolina.  We got to play on the beach, take naps, read, play games, go outlet shopping, and cook a lot of good food including a multi-course fondue and a several-layer birthday cake.

And consumed one or three (ahem) adult beverages in the process.

Anyway here's our trip, in pictures --

Charlotte's first time at the beach!

Love seeing my babies running and playing together.

Another Nathan is completely fascinated by the beach. #midwesterner

Have I mentioned recently how glad I am that we now own two of these dump trucks? (Also, don't be fooled by their bare feet or my mention of nice weather.  The water was frikkin freezing.)

Myrtle Beach, home of keepin' it classy. Because why wouldn't you close down a trashy amusement park and replace it with a neon-lit ferris wheel? I mean duh.

Playing taboo...

For the record, this is how Another Nathan actually gives clues: ummmmm ummmmm ummmmm it's punctuation... and it has a sister. Or maybe a brother? It's a this or a this-this! Yes, David totally got it right. FROM THAT. Color me impressed.

(Bonus Erin-loves-you points to the first person who's as smart as David and comments with the right answer.)

Mark successfully photobombed us like six times. *sigh*

(And yes, we are Those Friends who have matching hoodies. You will not judge us. They are cute.)

My beautiful beach babies. I melt.

For more pics of our weekend, click here. Happy beachy new year to you all! And remember, kids: it's a this... or a this this.

Happy Twenty Dozen

Hey it's 2012!

I can't get it up for resolutions right now, so this post is blissfully short. Just three things to say:

1.) It's never too early in the year for a somewhat awkward family photo.

2.) No, you let your son run around on the beach in January in a sweater and his underwear.

3.) We might be awkward but dang do we love each other.

Happy New Year!

Bumgarner Beach Trip 2011

Every year for as long as I can remember, and with very few exceptions, my family has rented a condo at the beach for a week during spring break.  We've vacationed at various locations up and down the east coast, and every year has included different combinations of my siblings, our friends, our spouses, and our babies.  This year was no exception -- Dad and Cathy rented a condo and invited us all down, and we gladly went.

This year's crowd was Ashley and her husband John, my stepbrother Sean and his awesome girlfriend (seriously she's a keeper) Olivia, and me and the kids.  Don't worry, we didn't leave Mark at home just for the move.  This week was his relief shift at work, so he had to stay within two hours of Raleigh anyway (the beach was just a convenient way to get the rest of us out of the way, which is why the move was scheduled this week in the first place).

Ashley took Nathan and Anneliese on Monday, and they got a head start on the beachiness.  I didn't get down here until Wednesday afternoon, and I was shocked at how much more both of my kids were enjoying the beach itself (sun, sand, surf) than they have in the past. 

Nathan usually does fine at the beach, but when he's done, he's done.  Usually that happens when there's too much sand in his eyes or something.  But this time he was all over the place, fearlessly pushing his dump truck (his big dump as he calls it.  makes me laugh every time.  yes I am such a grownup.) right up into the waves. 

He also spent some time fishing and flying kites with John (his newest hero).  And by the looks of things, loved it.

And Anneliese?  Hoo boy.  She was just about the most adorable sweet little sand crab you've ever seen, crawling all over the place, scampering on all fours across the beach.

She also liked Nathan's big dump.  :)

And did some walking practice with Grandpa.  She let him do it holding just one hand (a special feat of bravery she won't try with just anyone... like, for instance, not mommy).  This picture makes me smile so much.

Anneliese has been feeling under the weather the past few days (lots of fussing, low grade fever off and on, I think probably she's the newest victim of the Fifth's Disease that's been going through her mother's morning out class -- but it's mild, and she's managing) and I think the beach totally wore her out.

Even though I cringed to see her dozing in the sun like this, none of us could bear to wake her because A- she's so darned precious, and B- she finally wasn't fussing.  So I re-coated her in sunblock and let her be for a short nap.  During which I took (maybe a lot of) pictures.  Of course.

Today it's been too chilly for beach play, so Ashley and John and my dad took Nathan to play mini golf.  He had been once before, but it was kind of a disaster.  Apparently today he did much better! 

Although he did hit his ball into the river and somehow convinced John to go fish it out for him instead of just getting a new one. Nice huh?

Both my kids love their grandpa! (And his hilarious animal noises while reading bedtime stories.)

Thanks for the getaway, Dad! :)

For more beachy cuteness, click here for the photobucket album.

Beach Trip Highlights

Some highlights from this week's toddler-filled trip to the beach:

Nathan, who loves matchbox cars but is rarely allowed to play with them at home (because they never fail to produce tantrums when playtime is over), fell in love with this Mack truck from the Disney Cars movie (a favorite of Jeff's kids). He barely let go of it all week.
We took the boys to play mini-golf (a Myrtle Beach staple) for the first time, for all of them. My official recommendation on mini-golf with toddlers? Don't do it. Wait until your kids are five for this activity. On a cool day (or better yet, at night). While they were into it for about one or two holes, after that they just lost interest. And it was so hot that they combined disinterest with crankiness. And then added in a dose of I-want-to-throw-my-ball-into-the-pond. Also, they cheat. Toddlers cannot be convinced to hit the ball with their sticks instead of their hands, it turns out. Or to hit their own balls. Or even just to hit the balls at all, instead of throwing them. Mini-golf FAIL. It was funny (afterward) though.
One of my family's favorite places to eat in North Myrtle is the Duffy Street Seafood Shack -- kind of a hole in the wall, but the food is good and not too expensive by Myrtle Beach standards. Especially if you get there before six -- then you can load up on awesome peel & eat shrimp for 30c each - YUM! And Nathan loved it too, of course -- shrimp man that he is. Recently he wants to dip his food in whatever sauce we have on hand, so he ate cocktail sauce for the first time as well. And pregnant woman that I am (ok, I do it even when I'm not pregnant), I had to get some fried pickles to go along with our meal. They give you whole pickle spears at this place! Anyway there is just something about some simple seafood after a day at the beach that goes over really well around here! (We might or might not have eaten at two different locations of Duffy Street two nights in a row.)

I played video games. Crazy, huh? Normally I don't like video games at all, and I have even been known to make fun of people who love them. But we had Guitar Hero at the beach, and it was actually really fun. I was not very good, for the record (the picture below was surely taken before Jeff and Justin made me look really dumb at video game guitar). But it was fun.

All our husbands were rock stars in their own right, getting up early with kids, feeding kids, entertaining kids. And all the moms might have even gotten some actual rest (I know I did) on vacation. Is there a better sight than all the men in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner? (This is normal in my house, but I don't expect other people to be like Mark. But I have to give credit where it's due -- Justin and Jeff were awesomely helpful all week.)

We had a great view from our balcony! And yes, Nathan is wearing exactly as little as you think he is. ;-) We had to let him "go free" for a little while due to the sand rash in his diaper area.

It was a great trip! Here are all of us together at the beach. Anyone who makes a comment about how insanely pregnant I look should be reminded that telling a pregnant woman she is huge is no less taboo than telling any woman she is huge. So... feel free to tell me how great I look, but remember that words like glow and cute and sporty and all belly are most welcome, even if they're bold-faced lies and I had to fish out there in blogworld to get them.

Left to right: Jeff, Matthew, James, Crystal, Luke, LeAnn, Lucas, Justin, Nathan, Mark and (Beanie and) me.

To see more pictures from our trip, click on my cutie family, below.

by mgoetts

Fun in the Sand and Surf

We've done a lot of stuff here at the beach, but it seems our favorite is still just... the beach. Nice to sit outside in the sun and breeze and watch our children having fun. Nice to splash around in the water to cool off. Nice to just be outside and enjoy it.

One of the boys' favorite things to do this week has been hole digging. That's seriously the first thing they do every time we get out on the sand -- start digging a hole. Then at least one of them will climb in and insist that we bury him up to his neck in the sand. Note: apparently this game is not just for kids.

James and Jeff buried in the sand, while baby Luke "helps" dig.

(I was actually a fan of this hole-digging, because once the kids -and Jeff- dug themselves out of their hole for the day, I could use it to put my belly in... a rare opportunity for me to relax on my tummy!)

Beanie in the hole!

Even Nathan would help dig (crazy but true, the boy will touch sand! --just don't call it dirt), and haul it away in one of the many dump trucks we've had on hand. Which is a lot. You take five little boys to the beach, you take a plethora of dump trucks.

I mentioned earlier in the week that Nathan even enjoyed the ocean itself -- he's spent part of each day sitting in the surf giggling as the waves lap up around his legs. What I didn't know at the time was what a nasty sand chafing this would give him... in his boy parts. Let me just say it was really bad, and Mark and I felt really bad for letting it happen. I guess the swim diaper, with the swimsuit (including its mesh lining) was the perfect trap for sand to get all up in there and just rub him raw -- quite literally raw, in some patches. So the past two days we've skipped the swimsuit/diaper combo, and just slathered him down with vaseline and put gym shorts on over that. Sure, more sand gets in there that way... but it can also rinse out. And the vaseline seems to be protecting his skin from chafing in the process. I think we will never go to the beach without vaseline again!

At one point we did have all five boys out running around in the surf together. (Well, baby Luke was crawling until someone plucked him up -- I'm telling you that kid would crawl right into the ocean if no one stopped him; he has no fear.) It took pretty much all of the adult manpower we had on hand (except me, I mean, someone had to take a picture) to stay within an arm's reach of the boys, so close to the ocean. They were having so much fun, though -- they would run and squeal and giggle as the waves chased them towards the beach, then turn around and race back the other way as the waves retreated.

And Mark and I have had our own adult fun outside at the beach, too (no, not like that).

Mark has been building sand castles (yes, even when no children are around, so he can't use them as an excuse -- he was doing it just for his own fun), and I have been borrowing Matthew's boogie board to catch some waves. It's good because it's shorter than an adult board, so my belly doesn't get in the way. (Plus, who wouldn't want to rock a boogie board with Disney Cars characters all over it?) But I did get some funny looks (not the least of which came from my own husband) -- apparently people aren't used to seeing an eight-month pregnant lady riding waves in. Even in Myrtle Beach. But Beanie really liked it! She's not used to being suspended belly-down, I guess, and she kicked like crazy the whole time. She kicks a lot whenever I swim, but especially on the waves! The beach... what's not to love? (Besides that whole chafing thing, I mean.)

The Serious One

We're past the halfway mark of our beach trip with Mark's Clemson roomies and their kids. Today is our last with all three families -- Jeff's family heads back to Greenville tomorrow, Justin's family heads back to Millers Creek on Sunday, and we're headed towards Huntersville (en route to Raleigh) on Monday.

Our trip has been exactly as chaotic as we predicted, and 99% happier than I had worried about. I cannot believe how well-adjusted these five little boys are. Loud? Yes. Full of energy? Yes. Whiny and argumentative? NO. I feel like at least one of them should be acting like a pain, but.... nope. Besides a few reminders to share toys, and a few tears when beachtime is over, they've really all been delightful.

Five little boys play inside.

It's been a little weird for Mark and me to see how Nathan acts in a group dynamic like this... a rare opportunity for us to see Nathan with other kids, when we're present enough on the sidelines to observe, but not so present he really knows or cares we're around (and thus mostly ignores us in favor of his friends).

And get this: Nathan is the mellowest of the bunch. That's right, my son the chatterbox know-it-all who argued last month with the ladies at church about the difference in Moses and Jesus, is actually incredibly laid-back. Who knew???

Five little boys play in the sand.

Although it seems like he talks nonstop at home with the two of us, and always seems busy busy busy, it turns out he's actually not that loud or that busy, compared to other kids his age... well, these kids, anyway (and apparently they're normal). He's far more complaisant in a crowd than I would have predicted. Mark and I had been thinking that he has more of my personality (hello chatterbox) but after seeing him with all these other boys... I don't know, he seems an awfully lot like Mark.

Five little boys eat lunch. (Why is Jeff doing all the work in these pics?)

Nathan is also the most stuck in his routine out of all the kids here. Not sure if that's him or just that Mark and I have created that environment for him, but the boy is a creature of habit. And is less willing to be flexible about that habit than the others. I find myself alternating between feeling grateful that he's in a routine that provides a lot of sleep, and jealous that I can't flex the routine a little more when needed (we do have wiggle room, but no more than an hour or so off of any activity, I would say). C'est la vie. What I call inflexible, others might call predictable... I'll just be happy with how he is; unpredictable would be so much worse. :)

Because Jeff's boys have each other, they haven't gravitated towards Lucas and Nathan as much as Lucas and Nathan have gravitated towards each other. You can tell these are two boys who are currently the only child... and you can tell how much they would each like an everyday playmate.

This picture of the two of them makes me smile. I bet Nathan is thinking: seriously mom can I take these glasses off now? I have a dump truck to fill up with sand. And I have six grownups to talk to about the dump truck I am filling up with sand. And I bet Lucas is thinking: yay! Another picture! Cheese! Can I have some more goldfish? Let's go play, Nathan!

And as LeAnn (wife of Justin, mommy of Lucas) pointed out, the shot kind of captures their personalities -- the serious one and the silly one. Which I guess is true, as much as it surprises me. For all the grins and giggles and chatters we get out of Nathan, I think he really might be "the serious one."

Which, including some surprisingly impossibly loud and excitable days, is a lot like his Daddy.

Myrtle Beach in a Nutshell

Have you been to Myrtle Beach? It's a hard place to describe to people who haven't actually experienced it. It's a beach town, but could not be less of a resort town. I think this restaurant pretty much captures the mood of the place.

A somewhat trashy southerner, trying to be a little bit classy and exotic, and failing.

With a drive-thru.

(And yes, that's a church in the background.)

Beach = Fun

Just a quick post from the beach!

So far we have spent most of our time outside enjoying the sand and surf.

At every visit to the beach, it takes Nathan a little while to get used to the sand on his toes and fingers, and used to the crashing waves. But this time he seems to be really enjoying the whole thing; he's far less timid than he was even just a few months ago. He doesn't mind getting a little dirty, and he likes sitting in the wet sand and seeing which waves will reach him to tickle his toes.

He has even been swimming with Mark in the ocean a couple of times. He likes "jumping" over the waves in Mark's arms. He says all the predictable things: ooooh it's a big one! I see it! It's a white one! That was fun! Was it fun? There's another one!
(And yes, so far things have been chaotic but very happy with all five boys!)

Clemson Roomie Beach Trip

This post will be going up as our little family is loaded up and driving towards North Myrtle Beach. Mark and two of his Clemson roommates (Justin and Jeff) have wanted to do a multi-family beach trip for several years now, and it's finally happening.

So three couples, and all our kids, will be spending a beachy week together! I am halfway really excited. And halfway slightly terrified. Because when I say "all our kids," that means five toddlers. Let me say it again so it really sinks in: FIVE TODDLERS. Oh yeah... and they're all boys.

Matthew is 3.
James, Lucas and Nathan are all 2.
And Baby Luke is almost 1. (Already toddling.)

Believe it or not, this will be the first time that all five boys have been together (the older four spent the day at Santa's Land last spring, but Nathan was still kind of a baby (not mobile) and Baby Luke was still in the womb. So this will definitely be a higher rung on the chaos ladder, for sure.

We're very excited to see them all playing together, now that they're actually old enough to do that. Nathan is beside himself with joy about seeing the other kids (and THE BEACH, of course).

I even got a new swimsuit for the occasion. I have to be honest
and admit that the one I got last year (not being a maternity suit) hasn't been accommodating my belly very well. The result is that the fabric gets pulled too far down in front and, well... let's just say I needed something to contain the gals a little better. ;-) So I settled on this tankini -- also not technically a maternity suit, but it drapes well and covers my whole belly without being skin-tight... plus it was a lot cheaper than a real maternity swimsuit. A lot. That's obviously not me in the picture (hello) and I didn't even get that blue plaid pattern (though I so would have if they'd had it --I settled on something dotted in brown and orange instead), but I promise she's wearing it better than I do. I will try to steer clear of the camera this week to spare you that pain, but no promises.

Anyway, North Myrtle, here we come! Let's hope the noise is actually happy noise all week, shall we?

Un-Obituary for My Grandpa Schnack

It's been a hard weekend for my family. My Grandpa Schnackenberg passed away on Friday.

Mark and Nathan and the pups and I already happened to be on the way to Huntersville for
the Latta triathlon, so we continued in that direction. We were able to help my mom with some initial arrangements and have dinner with her Friday night. We were not able to sleep well (I didn't sleep at all, actually), but I ended up doing the swim and run portions of the tri the next morning anyway, because I needed the distraction and apparently I didn't realize the level of sheer exhaustion that would hit me like a wall afterwards. I was also not able to avoid stepping in horse poop on the run trail. That's right: my Grandpa died and I stepped in horse poop. Pretty much sums up the weekend.

We are now back in Raleigh; we needed to get some nicer clothes and things for the memorial service tomorrow, and we'll hit the road again tonight and come back home tomorrow afternoon. (Because staring at the miles of interstate between here and Huntersville for three hours a day, four days in a row, is the perfect cure for grief.) Needless to say, we are tired.

Grandpa's obituary ran in this morning's Observer. It's nice, I guess, but have you ever noticed that after reading these things, you still don't have a sense of who the person was? All those facts and relatives and career moves and alma maters don't capture him. I don't know if there's a word for the opposite of obituary. If there is, it fails me now, as does any motivation to try and figure out if such a word even exists. But whatever the opposite of obituary is, this is it.

An Un-Obituary for Grandpa, by his Apple Dumpling

My Grandpa was blessed with almost 91 years on this earth. He was a strange combination of jovial and neurotic -- he loved Jeopardy, coffee cake, eating breakfast foods for dinner, McDonald's coffee, and had a near-obsessive fear of running out of Kleenex (I don't think he knew how to go into a store and not buy a box or two; on any given day he could probably tell you where it was on sale for cheapest, and he didn't mind spending $5 on gas to drive across town and save 25¢ per box). He loved golf, liked bowling and chess, and sailed multiple times on the QE2. He rigged up a contraction to mute television commercials long before tv sets came standard with remote controls or mute buttons. He wasn't particularly ahead of his time, technology-wise (our attempt at getting him to use email was extremely short-lived, and he used his old electric typewriter for decades after it was actually efficient), but he loved his VCR, and recorded oh-so-many shows and programs -- anything and everything he thought we might want to watch (we didn't, for the record, except for the Sound of Music -- and I can never be grateful enough for the introduction of that tape into my life).

The obit tells you that Grandpa died at home, but it doesn't explain what a blessing that was. He would have been miserable in a sickbed, at a hospital. He was one of those people who needed to be able to up and go when he got an inkling. He loved cruise control and set it at about 40 mph no matter the conditions he was driving in -- neighborhoods, interstate, rain, whatever -- with his poodle Tammy in his lap. Grandpa named every car he ever owned (except maybe this last one), and you could always find some sort of candy in a little tin box somewhere in the front seat. You know, nestled amongst the kleenex boxes. Necco wafers and Werther's are the two candies I remember best. He spent his last day on earth running around town (despite the fact that he wasn't supposed to be driving), even visiting a bakery -- no doubt for a danish or coffee cake of some kind. We should all be so fortunate to spend our last days really living.

The obit doesn't tell you that he was somewhat compulsive, about little things -- before he went to bed at night, every light switch had to be in the right position (lights that could be controlled by more than one switch, causing the potential to mess up his "system" at the end of the day, were a major stressor), and he spent decades setting the table for breakfast before he turned in for the evening. He was a firm believer in well-done toast and locking doors.

The obit mentions that he was a regular at Lowe's in Huntersville, but it doesn't tell you how very important that part of his routine was. How he went there every day he felt well enough, sat near the check-out registers (in a chair he had purchased and kept at the store for just that purpose) people-watching with Tammy in his lap. How he was sort of a local legend for being "the nicely dressed elderly gentleman" there (my mom will argue that nicely-dressed part until she's blue in the face, mostly because of a favorite yellow sweater that he refused to part with even after it was holey and ragged and she ripped a sleeve off to encourage him to trash it... he just took it to have it mended and kept wearing it, one sleeve too short). That on most days, he had just been to Wendy's for lunch, and that he was loyal enough to his burger there that even after he found a spider on his lettuce one day, it wasn't enough to chase him away from the restaurant forever -- just to start ordering his burgers sans lettuce.

The official obit tells you that he was a WWII veteran, but it doesn't tell you about the time during his soldier days that he was swimming somewhere off the coast of northern Africa (Tripoli, maybe?) and thought he was standing on a sandbar, but really it turned out to be the shell of a giant snapping turtle. Or about how he played cards with fellow veteran Banks McFadden, and was pleased when Mark went to Clemson because of that card game. It tells you that Grandpa was a pilot, but doesn't tell you about the part where he was so conflicted about dropping bombs down from his plane that several missions were apparently botched. I don't know the exact circumstances of his discharge, but I do know that any misgivings about warfare he might have had, those just make me love him more. I'm proud that he served our country and I'm simultaneously proud that he knew how ugly war can be, even for the "winning" side.

The obit mentions that he retired to Myrtle Beach, but it doesn't mention that he didn't actually seem to like the beach. He was much more interested in taking us grandkids to waterparks, or eating at the gazillions of k&w-type cafeterias there (to cater to his generation, I'm sure) or any place where you could throw peanut shells on the floor (not sure if he was fascinated by this or horrified by it, but he found it worth mentioning and worth going). How in the early years of living in Murrells Inlet, they evacuated to stay with us in Charlotte for Hurricane Hugo, but then our neighborhood sustained worse damage than theirs at the beach.

Grandpa's obituary names a lot of relatives, including his father who was a relatively important politician and judge in Chicago. What it doesn't tell you is how Grandpa seemed (through stories and what I know of his own choices) to struggle to meet his parents' be somebody expectations and his own desire to just lead a simple family with simple honor. It tells you that he loved his wife, but it doesn't tell you that they were married 57 years before she passed away ten years ago, or how he never took his wedding ring off since before WWII, ever. It doesn't tell you how hard they fought to get that family he wanted to lead, their struggles to carry a child full-term -- a healthy child. Or about the bureaucracy frustrations involved in adopting two daughters, and the misery of burying one of them when she was barely grown up. It doesn't tell you how insanely proud he was of the one remaining daughter, my mom -- her musical gifts, her intelligence (and her choice to use those brains to heal people), her strength, and her devotion to him as she added onto her house so that he could spend his golden years near her. How he gave all his grandchildren nicknames (Apple Dumpling, Cupcake and Butch -- please don't ask how we went from Cupcake to Butch, I will never understand it myself) and how he never gave up on those nicknames (the last letter he sent me was addressed to Apple Dumpling Goettsch; I wish I were kidding). How happy he was to have lived long enough to see a great-grandson born, and know that a great-granddaughter is on the way.

It doesn't tell you how he was obsessed with Velcro and used it for anything and everything -- latching cabinets, keeping pens stuck to his car dashboard or coffee table, mending pants, attaching remote controls to his recliner, you name it.

How he used scotch tape and pushpins to affix newspaper clippings and family photos and hand-written signs (like keep door locked and no smoking - oxygen in use) to the walls and table and other furniture, covering pretty much every square inch of his house.

How he would sit on the couch with us grandkids and watch out the window for anyone exciting to drive by. (I don't think anyone ever did.)

How he used a mileage-earning credit card until his dying day, even though he had been on a plane only once in the last decade, and had no plans to travel again.

How he believed that being half black didn't make you black. He insisted that while Obama can claim the titles of first African-American president (since he is of Kenyan descent), and first minority president, he doesn't get to claim first black president.

How he would entertain us grandkids by predicting the exact time on the car clock when we would arrive somewhere (and always somehow being right -- the fact that he had some degree of control over how quickly we got there seemed to escape us, and we were endlessly impressed with this trick).

How he wanted a neutral word to use to refer to homosexuals (mostly to protect his generation's original meaning of gay from pejorative undertones), so he decided to just make one up -- and settled on zank.

How when I was a toddler he took a bite of my blue double-bubble ice cream (not a lick like I apparently told him), and never fully recovered from the tantrum that followed.

How the only drugstore he liked to use was Walgreen's -- something about his mom knowing the family back in the day in Chicago and how they would do one-hour photo printing even in the middle of the night. Not that he ever needed to take advantage of this.

How he called TCBY "tick-bee" and ordered his treats topping-first.

These are the things that made him Grandpa. Not relatives and facts and figures, but laughs and eye-rolls and memories. And I hope that by capturing a few of them here, I am helping to ensure that the memories live on... for my family's sake, for my kids' sake, and for my own sake.

We will miss you, Grandpa.

Myrtle Beach with Grandpa

Nathan and I just got back from a quick visit to the beach, where my dad and Cathy were spending their spring break. They had a three bedroom condo, and didn't seem to mind us crashing for a few days.

Despite the weather being oh-so-cold (it's April, and I am OVER IT! - enough with highs in the 50s already), we did have a nice visit. Nathan apparently didn't get the memo about the beach being a great place to play in warm weather, and he wanted to be outside pretty much the whole time. Seriously, when we were inside, he was constantly looking out the window saying "Grandpa! The beach! THE BEACH!" until someone (usually Grandpa, I'm not gonna lie) caved and took him out.

Nathan gobbled up calabash shrimp, went to the marina to see (and talk incessantly about afterwards) big boats, walked on the beach, spent a good bit of time digging in the sand, and got to spend two nights in mommy's bed (after waking up when it was still time to sleep). He might or might not have fallen off the bed on one of those nights. If there are no witnesses, then mommy didn't do anything dangerous, right? Right?

There where also several times that Dad would come in after being outside with Nathan, and comment on how tired Nathan must be, and how well he would nap. Then Dad would promptly doze off while Nathan toddled around the condo. Which I find hilarious. (You can too, I have photographic evidence.) But at one point Dad had three toddlers, so it's not beyond my scope of reasoning to assume that he's still recovering, and is well-deserving of the nap. Plus, he's a teacher. 'Nuff said.

Thanks for a fun week, dad!

(Wondering where all these pictures came from, considering our camera met its end in the middle eastern desert? My ueber-gracious mom is letting us borrow hers for a short while until we get ours replaced. How awesome are my parents this week???)

For more pictures of our visit, click on Nathan in front of the sandcastle condos, below.

by mgoetts

Mommy! It's a Fish!!

You will be pleased to know that Nathan and I are home safely from Myrtle Beach. Yes, that means I successfully put the car seat back together. Can I just say that I pretty much rock at car seats? I mean, it's official at this point.

After mom's run on Saturday morning (which she spanked, by the way, barely beating last year's time even though she's coming off an injury and it was raining like mad), she and I spent Valentine's Day with our favorite little man -- Nathan. Don't feel sorry for me for not getting to spend the day with Mark. He was working anyway, and he and have never been big on Valentine's Day anyway. (Want proof? Click here.) Plus, mom and Nathan were great company.

So how did we spend our afternoon, you ask? The same way as every other family with toddlers did -- at the aquarium!! I was so excited to take Nathan to see the fish; he has had a thing for sea life ever since Ashley got him a fish book for Christmas. He knows crabs, stars (starfish), big fish, little fish, blue fish, octopus, boats, leaves, turtles, and of course NEMO. And after this weekend he now also knows stingrays, shrimps, and sharks.

Some of our aquarium highlights:

1.) The first time he saw fish swimming in a tank (as opposed to on the pages of a book), he thought they were birds and said "bird! bird! bird!" over and over again.

2.) He thought several orange fish were Nemo himself. Which he announced. Out loud. I'm sure the parents of the excitable three- and four-year-olds around us were just thrilled.

3.) Even after seeing thousands of fish, he was still excited to see new ones. At about the fifteenth tank, he stopped and yelled Mommy! (Actually he says it with the emphasis on the second syllable, like a little Italian bambino).... MomEEE! It's a fish!! Like he couldn't have been more surprised that there was yet another fish to look at!


4.) He tried to kiss several fish through the glass in one of the tanks.

5.) He seemed about as interested as I was (meaning: not at all interested) in touching the horseshoe crabs. Ew. They're just big bugs, don't give me any of this "living fossil" nonsense.

6.) One of the tanks had a little tunnel built right through it, that you could walk through (or ride on the moving sidewalk). I think it took us about twice as long as any other family to get through it.

7.) At the stingray tank, Nathan watched the rays swimming and laughed when they came to the surface and splashed him. He couldn't decide if he wanted to call them sharks or fish or shrimps, but I think we eventually convinced him they were rays.

8.) Nathan took home a stuffed stingray and has slept with it every night since Saturday. He has enough animals now that we don't just dump them all in his crib anymore, we let him choose two. Predictably, he's been all about "ting-ray" this week. And hippo, of course. I mean, stingrays and hippos seem like perfectly normal sleeping companions to me.

9.) I got Nathan (in his stroller) stuck in the turnstile (turnstall? I learned that word from my dad and therefore I'm never sure which is the actual word... being a southerner he would pronounce either spelling pretty much the same) exiting the aquarium. A nice man helped take pieces of the stroller off so we could rescue him. Turns out the nice man was the husband of a friend I studied abroad in Germany with. She was there too. With her son, sleeping peacefully in his still-intact stroller since she used the stroller gate to exit instead of the turnstile. How come whenever I run into my cool pretty skinny friends from school, I am in the middle of some ridiculous situation (like a screaming toddler stuck in a turnstile)? I am way more competent than these reunions would indicate. No, I did not get any pictures of this adventure.

10.) I can't remember why I used to find aquariums entertaining on my own. It was so much better doing it with Nathan, and seeing how excited he was.

For more pictures (some great, some not so much... turns out aquarium lighting was a challenge for my lack of photo skillz), click on Marmie and Nathan, below.

by mgoetts