Family vacation, volume 1, episode 1

Since Hood River is located where the Hood River meets the Columbia River (and the Columbia is bigger) I think it should be named Columbia River. Or maybe just “River Town”.

As odd as this may sound, our first family vacation with a two and a half month old was something of a success.  Certainly it wasn’t like vactions of past where, for instance, we prowled the Kasbah in Tangier, Morocco, or hiked through the hills of Ronda, Spain, or lounged on a nearly deserted island in Thailand, or nearly died when our plane ran out of fuel in Vietnam.  Those were some pretty adventurous and romantic times, but we’re old now, and haven’t the energy to land in a foreign country with the clothes on our backs and no place to sleep for the night.  This year (like last year, since my husband discovered kiteboarding) we spent a night in Hood River, Oregon where the wind always blows and the beer always flows.

Søren was a little angel the entire time.  He took a three hour nap during our three and a half hour car trip to Hood River.  He tolerated the 25 degree change in temperature between Seattle and Eastern Oregon.  He slept soundly in the hotel crib.  He patiently waited while we took an hour long detour through Prosser (Washington wine country) on the way home and swilled bad cab franc but pretended that we liked it because we are too young and stupid to know how to appreciate wine properly.

No, in fact, it was me to tried her best to ruin vacation.  I managed to forget that this was Huzzybee’s Father’s Day trip and throw a tantrum at the beach (“Why did it take you an hour to roll up your kite after kiteboarding while Søren and I sat on a windy beach and waited for you?!  WHY?!) and back at the hotel (Why are you snoring tonight?  Why are you ALWAYS SNORING!?) and almost every time in between (I’m hungry again.  I’m SO HUNGRY!!!).  Happy Father’s Day, Huzzybee.

We totally overpacked for our trip.  We brought the boppy pillow, the nursing cover, the baby shampoo, the oversized stroller and a week’s worth of diapers.  What did we really end up needing?  Extra clothes and such.  The baby went through 7 short-sleeved onesies, 4 footie pajamas, 3 pairs of pants, 1 sweatshirt, 1 hat,  5 pairs of socks, 2 waterproof mattress pads, 1 tummy time blanket, 2 swaddling blankets, 2 towels, 4 washcloths, and 5 burp rags.

I know, I counted.

He blew out every single diaper, leaving us in a complete panic when we ran out of unsoiled clothes halfway through our trip home.  He did all of this with a cheerful, toothless smile that made our hearts melt.


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