While we were at Virginia Beach enjoying a long weekend with the Amos Grandparents there were moments that I thought Little A's head would explode from excitement overload. Unlike the fairly serene atmosphere of Nag's Head, Virginia Beach had multiple elements of right joy to Little A including:
1. Large expanses of sand and ocean
2. A giant pile of sand suitable for climbing and descending, multiple times.
3. A bulldozer (or as he calls them "dirt tah-tahs") pushing sand on the first day we were out on the beach.
4. A big Radio Flier wagon suitable for rides and for a baby to demonstrate his strength by pulling down the sidewalk while proclaiming to the world, "I puh waaah."
7. Oceania Naval Base which provided jet flyovers multiple times a day. At the sight of any airplane, Alastair would stop and proudly proclaim, "I. See. PAINAH!"
There was also the thrilling extra-large car wash shower in our room at the B&B where he had his daily post-beach rinse offs followed by his declarations of "I shower. I keen. I dry."
(Oh and if you haven't noticed, Little A's become rather found of using sentences, particularly to explain what he is doing or seeing.)
As with most trips involving Little A, we discovered his new culinary preferences. This time it was citrus fruits, specifically oranges and lemons. At one restaurant, he ate, not just sucked on, but ate about four slices of lemon. The last slice he kept in his mouth like a giant yellow grin and bobbed his head from side to side. The entire table erupted in hysterical laughter.
The War on Sleep took an interesting turn. For the most part, we didn't have prolonged shriekfests at naptimes. However he did awaken at 5 a.m. the first morning which helped propel me into a low-blood-sugar induced meltdown a few hours later when I discovered I had forgotten my brush and managed to pack only one pair of shorts.
The last night he went to bed fine, albeit with a minor freakout a few minutes later. I was suffering from a really painful bout of indigestion and when Adrian and I finally hit the hay at 11 p.m., I couldn't really sleep. Just as I was starting to drift at about 1 a.m., Alastair woke up hysterically crying. He was inconsolable. We tried every trick we knew to get him to lie back down in his crib but he wasn't having it. Finally after co-sleeping turned into "Mommy and Daddy are a jungle gym", Adrian took him back to his crib, and I offered to lie on the floor beside him since, on the account of my aching belly, sleep was eluding me. This seemed to placate Alastair, for after a few minutes of me gently consoling him from the floor, he laid down of his own volition and went back to sleep.
I spent the rest of the evening wrapped in a bathrobe, my feet freezing, afraid to move, but I did manage to overcome my indigestion and get a few hours of sleep before Little A woke again.
Really though, we had a great time. It's just going to be a while before we travel with baby again. I'm still feeling a little shell-shocked.