Two Weeks in Pictures

Somehow, in the entire two weeks I was on vacation, I only took four pictures. Normally I'm on the lookout for any opportunity to take a picture of my little girl, while Rob hides the camera on me or glares and gets huffy at me if I aim it anywhere near him. This trip, however, Rob actually reminded me about the camera. He'd say "Do you want a picture of this Sarah?" or "Where's the camera? I want a picture of this." A complete role reversal.

Anyway, here are the pictures I took:



I think this one was taken somewhere in Arizona. But it could have been Utah. Or Nevada. They all look the same.





This is in front of The Venetian in Las Vegas. It's magnificent. Luxurious. Expensive. Still, I was almost tempted to spend the $200-ish it would take to stay one night in their cheapest room.




My little happy traveller. Sometimes she got annoyed with being strapped into her carseat for hours on end, but really, who wouldn't? Overall, she's great in the car. Give her some food and something interesting to look at/play with, and she's set.




Isabella modelling her new dress courtesy of Grandma Smith. Isn't she darling?

The Vacation that Wasn't

Have you ever gone on a road trip with a toddler? I hadn't. Not until a few weeks ago. I thought I was prepared. I brought lots of books, snacks, toys. I brought a fan for white noise at night. I brought her favourite stuffed lion (that thing is a life saver!), her blanket, interesting grown-up toys that she normally is not allowed to play with and are therefore inherently fascinating. That should have been enough, right?

Well it was, to a point. While we were driving I sat in the backseat next to her, and we entertained each other for hours on end. She really is the cutest thing. We read books and made faces and sang songs and tickled each other. Every hour or two we pulled in at a rest stop so she could run around and enjoy some fresh air. It went well; she hardly ever cried, and we even had a lot of fun.

What part I hadn't expected to be difficult was staying in hotels at night. All three of us (and often four - Rob's sister Nicki stayed in our room with us when we were with his family) in one room. We obviously weren't going to leave Isabella in a hotel room by herself, so even though the room was dark and she was in her crib with her lion, she could still see us, hear us move around. Which meant that getting her to sleep was very difficult. By midnight she ended up in bed with us, either lying on top of us or horizontally across the bed so Rob and I ended up struggling to stay on the bed.

With all three of us suffering from lack of sleep, tempers were short. Vacations are supposed to be relaxing, but this was definitely not. Please don't misunderstand me, our vacation was awesome and we had a lot of fun, but in no way was it relaxing. Completely exhausting and a little stressful, but worth it. I got to meet a lot of Rob's family for the first time (and they're all very nice people), go horseback riding bareback, see The Lion King, show off Isabella (one of my favourite things to do, and she cooperates so well!), see my Grandma for the first time in ten years, along with my parents, and drive through some very pretty country.




Still, it's nice to be back home. Home, where Isabella has her own room (and therefore often sleeps through the night). "There's no place like home...there's no place like home..."

Only in Vegas...

Hotels in Las Vegas can afford to charge very little. By very little, I mean half the price of the average hotel. This is because they know most people are going to give them major bucks downstairs in the casino.

About a week ago my little family was there, staying in the cheapest hotel we could find. Unfortunately, it wasn't just the price that was cheap. The room was okay, I guess, a little worn, quite a bit outdated, but clean at least (to the naked eye, anyway). Another little fact about Vegas: it's easy to find great deals on food, but only it you're willing to get up in the middle of the night to eat it. We were trying to save money, so we ate at the buffet of this unnamed cheap hotel. Bad idea. The food was awful. I thought that was the worst of it, but I was wrong.

In the middle of the night I woke up with my stomach in knots. By morning, I was so sick I couldn't stand up without the world going black and passing out. Even sitting up was exhausting. The only way I felt even marginally like a human being was by kneeling down with my forehead on the floor. Rob was a dear and took Isabella down to breakfast with him so I could shower and get packed up (we were moving to a different hotel). Needless to say, it took me a very long time to get ready.

The car ride to the next hotel was... unpleasant. I kept my head between my knees, but still my nausea continued to rise from the rocking motion of the car. It didn't help that Rob had no idea where he was going, so a trip that should have taken five minutes ended up being more than an hour. The roads were busy, so Rob had to concentrate on his driving and couldn't keep an eye out for the hotel. Eventually I decided to help him out, and raised my head. Another bad idea. Only in Vegas can someone vomit out a car window without even drawing a second glance from passersby.

It was horrible. Horribly embarrassing. I tried to stick my head as far out the window as I could, but still I got vomit all over the side of the car. Too much information? Try this: even though it had been about 19 hours since I ate, every food was still clearly identifiable in a puddle on the road.

(On a side note, I'm trying to understand why I chose this humiliating story to share. Most people like to keep their embarrassing moments to themselves, but instead I blab it where everyone and their dogs can read it. What's wrong with me? Where's my survival instinct?)

Luckily by the next day I was feeling well enough that I could attend The Lion King. I would have hated to miss that. It was so amazing! We all know the story and can sing along to the songs, but the costumes were incredible, and the dancers so lithe and animal-like. Definitely worth seeing, even if plays aren't your thing. Look at this and this.

The moral of the story is: don't eat at cheap buffets, but if you have to, do it someplace where no one will care when you lose it all in public.

Slumlord

We've all met interesting people online. There are too many to not meet them. But have you actually met? In person? Rob got a healthy dose of strange yesterday.

My little family is leaving for a road trip to Utah and New Mexico in a week. When you're stuck in a car for hours on end, a cooler is a great thing to have on hand. Not having one, Rob looked online to see if he could get one cheap. You know, the kind that you can plug in so your food isn't drowning in melted ice. Rob found one he liked, and contacted the seller. Mike. Mike says, yes the cooler is still available, here's my phone number, call me and I'll give you my address so you can pick it up. But give me an hour's notice before you come. Rob calls, gets the address, and they set up a time for that evening.

Here's where it gets interesting. Rob forgot about their appointment, so a few minutes after they were supposed to meet he calls Mike to make sure it's still okay for him to go get the cooler. Mike says what address did I give you? Rob confirms, and they're back on- they're going to meet right away. When Rob gets there, though, Mike isn't home, only his roommate. Rob calls Mike - can the roommate show him the cooler? No, Mike will be there in 15 minutes. It turns out he left right after he talked to Rob the last time.

Rob gets back in the car to wait, but he isn't happy. Why in the world would Mike leave when he knew Rob would be there any minute? And the place kind of creeps him out. The yard is full of junk: sinks, toilets, you name it. Rob locks the doors. When Mike finally shows up 25 minutes later, they go in the house together. Mike seems nice enough. He gives Rob a tour of the house. Here's the kitchen, living room, bathroom. And this is your room, Mike says, you can grab your stuff and move in right away.

What?!

Um thanks, Rob says, but I'm just here for the cooler.

It turns out Mike is some kind of slumlord for poverty sticken students. They would have to be mighty hard up for money to live in a place like that.

Anyway, we got the cooler, but Rob wishes we had just bought new. It was that weird.

Big News

I have exciting news to share! Now, before you get ahead of yourself and assume I'm pregnant, let me tell you, it's not that exciting. No, yesterday I went clothes shopping (that's not my news, either, but it's related).

I hate clothes shopping. Especially when I need something really specific. In this case, black dress pants for work. I was also keeping my eye out for pretty much anything else that was nice and in my price range, as my wardrobe is very small and very very old (did I mention I hate shopping?). Anyway, I went from store to store to store, scouring the racks for black dress pants, with pockets. Not an easy thing to find in the summer. Even worse, I have a weird body shape, so when I did find black dress pants, they didn't fit. I have a disproportionately large waist, so if pants fit me in the leg, the waist is too small (muffin top alert!) and if the waist fits, the legs balloon out and look awful.

Rest assured, I did eventually find a pair. Nothing special, but they'll do. In the midst of that horrible experience, though, was one bright spot- my News. I bought a dress. I've never bought a dress before, haven't even worn one since I was 10 (with the exception of my wedding dress).

When I brought home my purchases and showed them to Rob, he was all "you bought at dress? You bought a dress?" Yes, yes, shocking. But I like it. Strangely enough, it actually fits me. It doesn't accentuate the areas I'm sensitive about, but it's not a shapeless bag, either. Even more strange, I could actually afford it. With the cosmos on my side, I figured I had no choice but to buy it.

So I did.

Turkish Delight

I know I write about Isabella a lot, but I can't help myself. If you were me, you would understand.


But before I get into that, let me tell you a story. A true story, even. I have four sisters, and we all want to see the world (to varying degrees). About a year ago two of my sisters decided to take a trip together, and then thought it would be nice if we could all go. They wanted to go somewhere non-English, somewhere exotic, like Spain, or Peru. Or Turkey, which is where they ended up going. I say they, because while the rest of my sisters went to Turkey, I didn't. Stupid money. Anyway, my sisters felt bad that I couldn't go, so we came up with the idea of an annual Sister's Trip (which I'm very excited about, by the way). We'll do something that all of us can afford, even if it's just camping for a weekend. As long as we're all together.


So my sisters all went to Turkey for a couple weeks, and they just recently got back. I've been poring over their photos, drinking in all the details, trying to feel like I was there, and perhaps feeling a little sorry for myself. I missed out on what looks like an amazing experience. I don't just mean seeing the Blue Mosque, or swimming in the Med, but being able to do it with my sisters, who I love so much but don't get to see very often.


As I was sitting on my couch, wishing I could have gone, Isabella toddled up to me, excited about a bottle of hand sanitizer she had found. Her face was lit up with a huge smile, and she couldn't wait to share her treasure with me. I looked at her sweet little face- her huge blue eyes, her chubby little cheeks, her melting smile- and I realised (yet again, I've come to this realisation many times, but each time is like the first all over again) just how much I love this adorable, pudgy, giggly girl. Yes, I still wish I could have gone to Turkey with my sisters, and and I'm super excited about our Sister's Trip next summer, but how can I break my heart over not going when Isabella looks at me with those eyes?


It's kind of like in "Anne of Green Gables": Archduke Ferdinand had just been assasinated and World War I was about to start, but Anne's baby had just said her first word, and somehow such faraway events didn't carry the same import they once had.


What can I say? I'm hopelessly in love.