|The landfill on wheels|
|She looked a bit strange, but it worked!|
“It’s only for one night, “my husband called to me ominously, opening the door to our cabin. As previously noted, Grand Lake had not beat the heat that weekend, and of course cabins in the mountains do not come equipped with air conditioning units, as a matter of practicality. Our room felt like a sauna. Did I mention it was approximately the size of a pantry? I began to nervously giggle, noting that the stifling room contained only a full size bed and sleeper sofa, which when opened filled the entire square footage of our cabin. I mean, what did we expect? We had booked a cabin in the mountains, not a suite at the Plaza. At bedtime, we unfolded the sleeper sofa, where Izzy and Daddy would sleep for the night. Thwack! It smacked right up against the full size bed, leaving the four of us to perch awkwardly on a two-pronged raft in the tiny, boiling sea that was our cabin. Izzy stretched out with some reading materials to begin relaxing while I readied the baby for bed. It was so hot that we would all be sleeping in our underwear, the baby in her diaper.
|Sophie does appear to be under the influence…|
It appeared that although bedtime was right on schedule, Sophie had no intention of going to sleep. Either she was extraordinarily tuned in to the difference in our surroundings, or unbeknownst to me she had found some type of controlled substance on the carpet and ingested it. Clad only in her diaper, she began to clamber back and forth between the sleeper sofa and the bed, panting like a dog. Attempting to deter her, we piled sofa cushions between the two pieces of furniture, but she incorporated them as a sort of land bridge and scaled them with ease.
We turned down the lights and I prepared to nurse her to sleep. Eyes darting around madly, she pulled away from me triumphantly. “Gaaaawwww,” Sophie began, as I scooped her back up in my arms and patted her bottom. “Sleep my little one,” I sang hopefully as she broke free and began her frenzied circuit from bed to couch once again. After about five more minutes, Izzy was yawning and Shawn and I were growing weary of the baby’s antics. Sophie, however, was just getting started. Poised on her knees, she began to jerkily wave her arms like a robotic conductor while blowing raspberries. Blowing raspberries is the Sophie equivalent of playing one’s trump card. She has reached an age where she somehow understands “being funny” and she has realized it’s a crowd pleaser. It’s true. I can never get enough of her raspberry-blowing; it is a truly hilarious noise, regardless of one’s age or stance on “farting humor”. Shawn and I were of course powerless to resist, and erupted into another wave of hysterical laughter. Sophie beamed delightedly at us. Izzy, however, was irate. She was ready to go to sleep, and any amusement at her sister’s capers had worn off.
At this point, Sophie crawled manically over to the wall and began to attempt to drag herself to standing. “She’s literally climbing up the walls,” Shawn observed. Izzy issued another protest, and I once again corralled the baby into my arms. “Stars are twinkling in the sky,” I began feebly while she wriggled and writhed. I tried one last ditch effort to nurse her to sleep, after which she scrambled out of my lap, careened to the side like a drunk, and flung herself unceremoniously onto the quilt. She was asleep in seconds.
|The exact same trip 2 years earlier…simpler times.|
Basking in the quiet of our cabin, in our respective (separate) beds for the night, Shawn and I finally closed our eyes. Dogs began to bark. Several of them. Multiple cars pulled into the parking lot and passengers disembarked, chatting noisily. I began to shake with laughter. The agitated barking continued. I could hear Shawn’s muffled snort from next to our sleeping daughter. “Knock off the dog noise!” a neighbor loudly complained. For some reason this struck us as hysterical, and we dissolved into mirth, unable to sleep for quite some time. Around two in the morning we woke up shivering in our underwear. Our previously stifling cabin was now frigid, due to the fact that the windows were all open. It was possibly the least restful night of our lives, but sometimes you just have to laugh.
|The baby is oblivious to any hike-related stress|
|Totally worth the hassle to travel with these guys|
Latest posts by Stephanie (see all)
- This Crappy Corner of the Mom Internet Is Alive & Well - January 30, 2018
- The Legs Up The Wall Challenge - January 21, 2018
- Announcing LTYM Boulder 2018 Auditions! - January 19, 2018