Things I Learned Over the Weekend

If I drink two beers in a row at night, I’m pretty much done.

Goldendoodles do not shed. (The one we hung out with this weekend was sweet — pretty much like a giant stuffed animal come to life. By Sunday, Bun was walking up to him, hugging him, and exclaiming, “I love you so much!”)

I’m not 25 years old anymore, and that’s okay. (The juxtapositon of The Ex with my husband and children was… illuminating. In a great way.)

Bubbles and sidewalk chalk provide plenty of entertainment for the under-5 set. (Okay, I kind of knew this one.)

I’m not as out-of-shape as I thought. I survived a 3-mile hike (mostly downhill), even carrying Monkey a mile or so. And I’m not too sore.

Two-year-olds should not go on 3-mile hikes, even if they are mostly downhill.

If you leave a child’s camera outside on a picnic table, pictures will be deleted.

Even boys as young as 6 will want burn something.

Having a responsible, almost 10-year-old girl who likes young children at Cook Forest with you is priceless.

Just like with grief, there are five stages of napping: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

In a full-size bed, Bun will sleep right in the middle, perpendicular to the bed.

Monkey likes “Red Dragon Tattoo” by Fountains of Wayne. A lot. That’s my girl!

Wearing white pants to a party where your children will have access to dirt and chocolate is just dumb.