Erie-sistable

There’s a lot going on around here, and I’m going to try to cover it all while also putting my house back together, working full time, getting paperwork filled out for Monkey’s new school and daycare, and, you know, generally trying to be a good wife and mother while still having maybe a half hour to myself at night to keep my sanity. The usual.

We spent the weekend up in Erie with Nonna and Pap-pap. And it was a non-stop whirlwind of adventure, not something I ever considered Erie to be when I lived there. When Nonna and Pap-pap get time with their grandkids, it’s go-go-go.

We spent a good amount of Saturday at the CelebrateErie festival. So did many other residents of Erie and its outlying areas. It was hot and crowded, fun and chaotic. Bun had not napped well in the car, and had no intention of napping more at Nonna’s. As a result she was a mess. Still mostly pleasant and fun, but when not, really, really not. Also, she did not want to stop moving. I think she strongly suspected in her very tired and over-stimulated 19-month-old brain that if she stopped, she would immediately fall asleep. She did not test this theory.

I mostly ran around with Bun while Monkey stayed with Nonna, Pap-pap and Soul Sista. (This seems to be the breakdown most of the time when visiting Erie. I’m on Bun duty, and Monkey just hangs out with whomever is around. I’m not sure if this is a good thing, bad thing, or indifferent thing. It just kind of is. But, for example, Soul Sista (SS) helped Monkey make a puppet while I handled Bun — or manhandled her, depending on how you look at it [childhandled? womanhandled? personhandled? Sorry. Grammatical/Politically-correct-phraseology tangent there]).

Sunday was Church (again, I go into the nursery with a misbehavin’ Bun; Monkey stays with Nonna & Pap-pap), brunch, bubbles and digging in dirt in the yard. When Bun passed out for her nap, we left her to Pap-pap and went to visit GG. Then back home to a newly awoken Bun and a scramble to get things together to visit Presque Isle, also known as The Beach.

I had (accidentally on purpose) forgotten my bathing suit, so I was on shore duty. I knew Monkey would go in the water with Pap-pap and/or Soul Sista (Nonna can’ t lift Monkey anymore — at least she shouldn’t and I’m not ratting her out to her chiropractor).

It was Bun’s first trip to a beach. Two steps onto Beach 11, she was bending down picking up handfuls of sand. She would let it run out of her hand. At first, she seemed a little thoughtful, a little puzzled. A little, “Whatever is this?” And then she got serious. In her swimmy diaper and nothing else, she set about to digging up the beach.

And then maybe she thought it would be quicker to just eat it. I am going to have to get that girl checked for pica, I’m telling you.

As fond as I am of Presque Isle, and as much as it’s been cleaned up since I was Bun’s age, the sand… well, the sand isn’t pristine, white (or even tan) beach sand. It’s a gritty, dusty mixture of dirt and finely ground rock. And Bun had it everywhere by the time we left. Including in her belly.

The kids were a little too tired for a smooth bedtime (especially as Monkey had overheard Nonna & SS ordering a “Rainbow Roll” and thought she just had to try that), but we got ’em down (after extensive sand removal procedures in the tub), and sat down to a late dinner of sushi. And beer. And then pretty much everyone passed out in front of the TV.

Sorry I didn’t get pictures, especially of the Sand Eater — forgot the camera. If Nonna sends me any, I’ll post them. But that gets you caught up to … well, two days ago. I’m a little behind. But laundry is coming along nicely!

Countdown to Burgh Mom’s dinner: Two days.