Just a quickie post to drop off a few photos from our little family vacation to Chicago/Indiana last week. Though I’m not quite sure you can call it a “vacation” when you have a 20-month old in tow. It’s kind of like everyday life, but with a side of heightened anxiety, public restrooms, and jet lag. It’s not exactly relaxing, is what I’m saying. And don’t even get me started on flying with a toddler. How can you really call it a “vacation” when you’re spending numerous hours suspended in a tin can in the air, touching body parts with total strangers, with a wiggly kid on your lap who is constantly rolling the tantrum dice. I’m sprouting gray hairs just reliving it.
All that said, I absolutely LOVED our “vacation”. No really, I did! I never used to understand why parents would take their tiny children on trips. I mean, they’re not going to remember it… right?! But I totally get it now that I’m a ma, because it so so fun to explore the world and introduce new things to your little. Even if Crosby won’t remember this trip, Casey and I will. And we’ll remember how excited Crosby was at the Lincoln Park Zoo and how he shoved popcorn in his face at the Cubs game and danced his little butt off at our friend’s wedding. Aaaaaand we’ll remember how he had a full-on meltdown in front of the gorilla exhibit because he ate the rest of MY Larabar and then was pissed that there wasn’t more. (Crosby, not the gorilla. Though I’m sure the gorilla would have wanted my Larabar too.) But honestly, we had so much fun showing our little guy around one of our favorite cities. And bringing him to his first wedding, where he impressed us with his killer dance moves that he no doubt learned from an episode of Daniel Tiger.
So here are the grainest, unedited iphone photos of our trip, if you care to see. I took my nice camera along, but only brought it out once when we were at the zoo and maybe took 10 photos… and now I can’t find the cord to connect it to my computer. So, I’m really sorry that you’re probably missing out on some high quality flamingo butts and blurry giraffe necks. And by I’m sorry, I mean you’re welcome.
Guys. It was 44 degrees at this Cubs game. And we were not prepared. I had packed everything we might need for a rainstorm (#portlandproblems) but not nearly enough warm clothes for the tundra. I’m from the midwest, I should KNOW better!
We only lasted 3 innings, and that’s mostly thanks to a box of popcorn that occupied Crosby’s facehole. His hands were freeeezing, but the kid just kept going. He got his popcorn love from his mama, AKA the “Pepcorn Queen”. (Just kidding nobody calls me that. But they should. And maybe put it on a t-shirt? )
OMG. Look at the people behind us. They were PREPARED, man. Meanwhile, I had to buy a sweatshirt to put under my paper-thin raincoat. And we had to buy a ridiculously expensive Cubs blanket for Crosby in order to save his appendages from freezing off.
We were actually super pumped about the 2 hour time change because in THEORY, Crosby should have slept until 8:30 Chicago time. Which for us is like, all the dancing lady emojis. But somehow, somehow, the little sheister managed to wake up at 6:30 every morning that we were there (AKA 4:30am Portland time). I don’t get it. It doesn’t make sense. He’s so very lucky that he’s so very cute and sweet.
Where we ate this (lobster deviled eggs) and drank that (killer bloody mary).