Week in Review

Just a warning: next week this sucker will be incredibly late.  Like, later than this one.  Like, we’re doing some whirlwind traveling and frankly I should just spare you and not post at all, huh?


So I was driving Pete home from daycare on Wednesday.

Wednesdays are ‘field trip’ days, and they do any number of things like head to the zoo, the children’s museum, off to go swimming, etc.  This week, they hit up the Arboretum.   And this is the conversation Pete and I had in the car on the way home that evening:

Me:  So where did you go on your trip today?

Doots:  We went to see the flowers!

Me:  How fun!

Doots:  Yes it was fun!

Doots:  And mommy: in Mila’s car, I saw two fire trucks!

Me: Two fire trucks!

Doots: Yes, I saw two fire trucks.  Together.  And I said, ‘GOD DAAAMN’.

Me: . . .

Me:  You said what, baby?

Doots: I said, ‘GOD DAAAMN!.  ‘Cause I saw TWO fire trucks, mommy!

And here is the part where I fell over and died.  No, really.  WE DO NOT SAY THAT EVER I SWEAR HOW IN THE WORLD DID HE KNOW THOSE WORDS.  I mean, another bad word may have come out of my mouth at one time and he might have repeated that one (conveniently: after dropping something on the floor at his former daycare) and we had to have A Big Talk, but I swear on my life I never use the God Damns.  At any rate: we had a long talk in the car about bad words and nice words and I think he’s got it all squared away now.  And as a side note: I talked to our daycare provider about it the next day and oh, no: he actually never said that in her car.  Well, I’m not sure if lying to me is really better, but PRAISE THE LORD MY CHILD DID NOT ACTUALLY SAY GOD DAMN IN HER CAR.

He says his God Damns very emphatically, at least.

So, yeah.  Long holiday weekend, yeah!  Saturday we planned on hitting up the market (for the last time in at least a few weekends) but it was pouring rain all morning, so instead we just hit up Willy’s later.  It’s pretty much The Merc, Madison Style.  They even honor our Merc card as their own shopping card.  Sah-weet!  Pete was over it about halfway through shopping but soldiered on.  Then we realized (discovered, actually) while checking out that, hey – they have this awesome kiddie area full of toys and other things to keep your kid busy while you shop.  Huh.

I think we could be Near-East-enders.  This neighborhood is teaming with scenesters and hipsters, like REALLY.  It’s Lawrence all over again.  I mean, yeah those types can be supremely annoying and admittedly: they are totally the Yuppies of Our Generation.  But still.  Once you get past the fakery and posturing ‘those people’ are pretty endearing, actually.  As long as you don’t take them too seriously.  So anyway: this neighborhood is our kinda place.  I think.  We shall see.

Here is a random image of Doots-man at nap time.  He hugs all his kiddies and curls up in his Billy, still, and I know I will be kinda sad the day that ends, so I’m squeezing this in.

After naps (yes, I took one too, and it was GLORIOUS YES THANK YOU LONG WEEKENDS) we headed out to Bratfest.  We were going to do the big giant Bratfest, but then heard about some things that made us reconsider, and we hit up the much-smaller-but-still-lovely The People’s Brat Fest that was held downtown/UW campus instead.

Maybe it’s the fact that we talked up Bratfest to him, or maybe it’s because he was feeling like a Big Boy that evening (‘hotdogs are for babies’, he told me), but something happened at Brat fest: our boy, he fell hardcore for the brats.  Dare I say, he’s obsessed.  He loves them, unabashedly adores them.  And here is his First Brat.  It was love at first sight (bite?), I tell you.

Dude: I even made a GIF.

I totally have 5-million pictures of him tearing into that brat.  Go get ’em, baby.

So we had some brats, walked around a bit, and then the sirens started going off (calling the boats in from the lakes) and, with a quick look at the quickly darkening skies, we decided it was best to go.  Thankfully we were able to get Pete’s cotton candy before sprinting for the parking garage.

Sunday: the weather was a totally different story; it was set to break heat records; we woke up to 60 degree temps but it was supposed to get up to 90 (side note: it actually hit 93, Gah-ROSS).  Anyway.  We were not about to stand around outside and sweat to death, OH HELL NAW, so we figured it was a good day to hit up the Cave of the Mounds – about half an hour from Madison, it is an underground cave discovered in the early 1930s and now a nice little tourist attraction.  Did I mention the temperature in the cave is 50 degrees?  Um, yeah: much more up our alley.  So we grabbed our sweatshirts and headed to the Cave to take a nice looooong tour.

Afterwards we ran around the grounds and got all sweaty and then had a picnic.

We got Pete a blue slushy.  Total treat.  They have a slushy machine as well as some bottled drinks and other simple treats in a cooler in their gift shop.  And lots of picnic tables on the grounds.  Smart move, Cave of the Mounds.  Smart move.

Then after our picnic Scott and Pete went for a quick hike down the local trail next to our picnic table.  And came back about 5 minutes later, because the trail was closed.  HA!  Well, they tried at least.

We checked out Mt. Horeb on the way back to Madison – it’s your normal little quirky Southern Wisconsin town; their ‘thing’ is trolls.  They have a bunch of them carved out of tree trunks and placed along their Main Street.  We were hoping Pete would knock out for a nap but that didn’t quite happen, so instead we stopped at a place on Main and ordered a brownie sundae.  It was pretty much the biggest brownie sundae I have ever seen and we could not even finish it. Insanity.  And our weekend is totally officially one of Gluttony.

That evening we headed downtown, grabbed dinner at The Great Dane (Pete had… wait for it… a brat), and walked around enjoying the weather.  I have to say: 90 degrees in WI is nothing like 90 degrees in KS.  We totally didn’t sweat to death, it was awesome.

Okay a side note: while waiting for a table at Great Dane, I got this shot and I thought it was cute because it totally looks like the scenester coming in the door has a balloon as well.  But then, upon further viewing, maybe it’s like some horrifying view of my son in 20 years, and OMG BUT NOOOOOOOOO, DEAR GOD DON’T LET MY BABY GROW UP TO BE A SCENESTER.  So yeah anyway here’s the picture, whatever enjoy.

As too-cool as we were for ‘Corporate Brat Fest‘, we still snuck into the parking lot on the way home and watched their Sunday night fireworks display.

I know: Worst Fireworks Photo, EVAR.  I never learned how to take photos of fireworks, jeeeeeeeeeeeeez!  Sorry.

So: Monday!  It rained.  It was dreary.  Gah.  Then the skies parted and after Pete’s nap, we headed to a park nearby.  And after about 10 minutes there, it was a total downpour.


So my darling husband was nice and had us take shelter for about 5 minutes under the weeping willow that I could not stop blathering about because OMG THAT WOULD BE SO LOVELY FOR PHOTOS.  Thanks, honey, for hiding under there for a few minutes during a storm even though we totally could have been fried by lightning if there happened to be any lightning associated with the storm.

Then we sprinted for the car and totally got soaked because the rain got even worse, if that is even possible, and Pete thought it was hilarious.

Scott was more like all “WTF JUST HAPPENED” face.

Yeah, it was a tsunami.  For like the entire drive home.  And then, in usually Murphy’s Law fashion, it stopped pouring about the point we pulled into the garage.

It still rained, though, and there were additional Thunderstorm Warnings,.  So instead of having the nice grill for dinner we did brats (brats again, yes, and Pete was totally excited) on the stovetop and I slapped together a potato salad and finally we totally forgot to cut open the watermelon sooooo anyway: our official kick-off to the summer was less than impressive.

We did have a different sort of excitement.  Pete went on the potty, and while I will spare you any narst photos and descriptions let’s just say it was momentous not because he went on the potty, but because it was that one type of bathroom trip that is harder for kiddos, the one he hasn’t done before, the one we said would mean a trip to Ella’s Deli, so off to Ella’s Deli we went – Blue Moon ice cream and a carousel ride to celebrate.

And that about sums it up.  I mean, he fought the bedtime hard tonight and it ended with Pete singing songs while banging out a tune with his play kitchenware, while wearing a cowboy hat at TEN O’FREAKING-CLOCK, but yeah that’s more than you need to know.  So anyway, have a great rest of your (short!) week and we’ll see you again in a week.  I mean, maybe.  If I can get my crap together and actually post.


Have a lovely week 🙂



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  1. I’m afraid we’re going to have to start a jar at our house soon–$1 for every swear word. The other night even Sweet Husband got a teeny bit frustrated with me, “I know you don’t have to filter at work, but could we not say (rhymes with duck) around the child, please?”

    • Don’t worry hon: soon the Kiddo will be telling you to ‘use the nice word, mommy’. Like mine does, occasionally (that one word, it is still my most favorite of the Bad Words, and still escapes me occasionally, I can’t help it 😉 So anyway, never fear your child will help keep you honest!

      Also: love the kiddo’s yellow shirt in the most recent post, clearly you have great taste in toddler clothing 😛

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