Packing Wars: Part fjórir

Some last minute random travel thoughts...

For several days, I have been tearing the house apart trying to find a headlamp to use for the camping excursion during the last leg of the trip.  Sitting around a campfire is nice but anyone who's ever camped knows how imperative it is to have some kind of mobile light source for that most important of camping activities - making it from the tent to the bathroom and then back to the correct tent!  A flashlight would do but a hands-free light is best because for some reason, flashlights seem to jump from my hands and end up in the nearest water source so you can imagine how a sleepy middle of the night campground bathroom trip would end!  Finally, I had my Eureka moment yesterday when I discovered one of the missing camping headlamps in the junk basket on the counter.  (In case you're wondering, we have a junk basket, as well as its older sister, the junk drawer, and a little cousin, the junk tray. What can I say? We're thorough in our junk storage.)  As I proudly held the headlamp up, basking in the satisfaction of discovery, it dawned on me that I would be camping in Iceland.  In the summer. When Iceland does not get dark at night.  Screw it.  I spent so much time looking for the darned thing, it's going in the suitcase anyway!   

And then there's the rain coat/poncho issue.  I kept asking Mark if he's packed one, if he even still owns one and let's just say rain ponchos haven't been high on his list of priorities.  With one packing day left, I asked again and this conversation happened:

Mark:  "No, I don't have one but I checked the weather channel and it's not going to rain."  

Me:  <blinking in confusion> "We'll be in Scotland and England for TWO WEEKS and the weather channel has told you that it won't rain at all in Scotland and England for TWO WHOLE WEEKS?!" 

Mark:  <unconcerned> "Well, it's not going to rain on race day so that's the important thing and I think there was a 30 percent chance of rain some other day."  

Me:  "It's Scotland and England.  I've been told that the only constant there IS rain and if we take nothing else, we should have an umbrella and/or poncho for when it DOES rain because it always rains because it's Scotland and England!"  

I'm not sure that conversation had the desired effect because who's going out to buy another poncho?  No, not Mark, me. :P  

So the packing is almost at an end.  I think.  Although, how the heck is this...

supposed to fit into this?  *deepbreath*  I can do this!  I think.

~Heated Conversations~

After receiving an amazing hooded towel in the mail for his birthday from the Rosenberry's...

Eamon:  "This is awesome!"

Me:  "I know!  And I'm pretty sure Ms. Chevon sewed that all herself, which makes it even more special."

Eamon:  <excitedly wrapping it around himself>  "And it's so warm!"

Me:  "Um, yeah, but it is June so let's stick to using it at bath and pool times."

Eamon:  <wrapping it even tighter around himself>  "Uh-huh..."

Me:  "Seriously!  I'd rather you not give yourself heat stroke right now."

Later that same day...

Eamon:  "I'm a Sith Lord!"

The listening is not strong with this one. :P

~Injured Conversations~

After playing outside while I did yardwork...

Eamon:  "Mom, can I have a band-aid?"

Me:  <absently>  "Um, I guess... Wait!  Don't you have one on already?"

Eamon:  "But it's coming off."

Me:  "It looks fine to me."

Eamon:  "I can prove it's bleeding."

Me:  "Why would you need to prove that it's bleeding."

Eamon:  <pulls the band-aid half-way off>  "See? Blood!"

Me:  <squinting> "Where?!  I see a tiny red mark like maybe you scraped it a little bit."

Eamon:  <puts his knee in my face and triumphantly points to tiny brownish smudge on the band-aid itself>  "See?!  So can I have a band-aid?"

Me:  "No!  You may have squeezed one drop of blood out of that tiny scrape but it's obviously NOT bleeding now so that would be a waste of a band-aid."

Eamon:  *sigh*

Comes upstairs a little bit later with a smile on his face and I see this...

Eamon's homemade band-aid made from the finest, 

most antibacterial toilet paper and scotch tape that money can buy!

Eamon:  "Mom, can I have the crutches?"

Me:  "Aaaaarrgh!"

~Skinned Conversations~

While discussing some recent skin problems Eamon was having...

Eamon:  *sigh*  "I wish I was already in Kentucky."

Me:  "Why?"

Eamon:  <matter-of-factly>  "Because Aunt Erica's there."

Me:  <smiling>  "Ah, and you think Aunt Erica will have some magic oil to make your skin smooth again?"

Eamon:  "Well, she is a massage therapist so, yeah!"


Ok, the kid has got a point - thanks to her massage therapy, yoga practice, natural lotion products, and now doula services, Erica is quickly cornering the market on alternative medicine!  

Erica and her all-natural lotion bars

~Dolled Up Conversations~

While watching cartoons this morning, a fast food commerical came on, advertising mini American Girl dolls as the kids' meal prize...

Eamon:  <disgusted>  "Ugh!  Those are horrible!"

Me:  <teasing>  "So you're saying you'd like one of those for your birthday?  That can be arranged!"

Eamon:  <horrified>  "NO!  I'm a BOY!"

Me:  <seriously>  "Boys can have dolls too."

Eamon:  <chastened>  "I know... but not me!  I don't like dolls and I don't want one!"

Later as I was getting something out of Eamon's closet, I found something from a long time ago... a doll that belonged to Eamon!

Me:  <sing-songy>  "Oh, Eamon...  Come see what I found!  It's your... doll baby!"

Eamon:  <horrified> "What?!  I don't have a doll?!"

Me:  "Oh, but you did!  See?  It's your Baby Paul(TM) Potty Training Doll!"

Eamon:  <looking on in silent horror at his anatomically-correct boy baby doll with its doll-sized diaper & potty chair accessories>    

Mark:  "Dude, it's not a big deal.  I had a few dolls when I was a kid too.  Besides, if it weren't for Baby Paul, you'd still be peeing on yourself."

Eamon:  <laughs hysterically at that last bit>

Baby Paul was a life-saver when it came to potty-training but not so much because Eamon couldn't figure out the mechanics of peeing in the potty.  It was the competition that did it for him.  It soon became apparent that 2 year old Eamon could care less about Baby Paul - or himself - peeing in the potty.  So I made identical sticker books for Eamon and Baby Paul, with a picture of each on the toilet on the front of their own personal sticker book.  Every time one of them peed on the potty, a sticker got added to the album and that's when things got interesting.  Eamon couldn't stand that Baby Paul was wracking up more stickers than him!  He was a toddler on a mission - to destroy baby Paul's sticker-collecting record.  Yay for competitive peeing!  ;)

~Where the Fun Never Ends~

In the car after Tae Kwon Do today...

Eamon:  <excitedly> "Not too much longer until I'm going to be at Mema's house!  For the whole... well, a long time!"

Me:  "Yep, not long at all.  So are you going to miss Dad and I while we're gone?"

Eamon:  <hesitantly>  "Yeah."

Me:  <trying to lighten the mood>  "So do you think you'll get tired of Mema while we're gone?"

Eamon:  <with conviction>  "No, the fun never ends with Mema."

Me:  <laughing>  "True!  And there are the cats to keep you entertained!  Do you think you're up for cleaning up cat poop?"

Eamon:  <horrified>  "What!?"

Me:  "Well, she does have three cats so I'm sure you'll need to help clean up poop - or vomit - at least once."

Eamon:  *sigh*  "Well, at least they are really funny like that picture of Felix eating Mema's plants."

Yes, who wouldn't want to clean up after them 

when they vomit up mom's Mother's Day flowers?;)

~Mother's Day Conversations~

When I woke up this morning and attempted to pry Eamon's attention from the TV screen...

Me:  "So, is there anything you'd like to tell me this morning?"

Eamon:  "Umm, no?"

Me:  "Really?  Nothing?  Nothing at all?"

Eamon:  <thinking harder>  "Uhh, when's breakfast?"

Me:  *sigh*  "How about 'Happy Mother's Day'?"

Eamon:  "Oh, yeah.  Happy Mother's Day.  So when's breakfast?"

later...

Me:  "What should we do when we get home?  Or rather what should you do for me since it's my special day and I'm not supposed to work."

Eamon:  <innocently>  "You can work."

Me:  "It's Mother's Day!  I'm not supposed to work!"

Eamon:  <litigiously> "But on Mother's Day, moms should do whatever they want so if you want to work, you can."

Me:  "Yes, I know I can work today if I wanted to but I don't want to.  So are you going to help do some work for me today?"

Eamon:  <grudgingly>  "Yes, I'll help do some work for you today.  But you know if you change your mind and do want to work, you can."

Eamon, patron saint of the Women's Liberation Movement... ;)