Baby's Journal Continues - More Memories of Vacations Past

Rumor has it another snowstorm is on the way -- the third in less than two weeks. Now, by "rumor" I mean the local weather channel, which has been shockingly accurate. ("It will snow. A lot.") I also heard a rumor that we have more snow than Vancouver, and someone should have just moved the Olympics here. I have a hill in my backyard that will probably hold the bobsled race just fine. We might have some issues with the fence, but I think if the wind blows just a touch harder, the snow will clear the fence without much trouble.

Anyway, Toddler and I decided not to venture out today, the day after the second storm. If I wanted to go out and watch people drive on snow packed into 6 inch piles, I would have stayed in New England.

So, instead, while we dream of the weather in warmer parts of the world, Toddler and I wanted to bring you Part 2 of Toddler's vacation journal to Las Vegas. (Keep in mind that we called Toddler "Baby" then because he was only 8 months old. Yes, yes it does get confusing changing names with the size of your cats/kids.)

Baby’s Travel Journal -- Day 2: Sunday (Transcribed on this, the following Friday)

Well, it seems that no one in our room but me got any sleep Saturday night. I heard Mom and Dad say to Grandma and our friend that they had to adjust my humidifier settings last night, including turning it up and turning on the heater. There is something about the dry desert air and we will have to be sure not to skip any more nebulizers no matter what. Well guess what. I don't like that idea, Mom. I mean, normally I don't mind ... too much ... when you stick that mask near me and tell me to breathe steam. But that darn portable nebulizer machine that you brought stinks, Mom, because it takes waaaayyy too long. I mean, between the nebulizer, the time it takes to get that tube of formula into my tummy, and then my obligatory morning puking, we have wasted a LOT of sightseeing time. Whoever told you they were sending you the "Cadillac of nebulizers" must have had a bum Cadillac.

So, for some crazy reason of Mom's and Dad's that I never did quite understand, we loaded everything into our hotel room last night, only to have to unload it so we could check out this morning. Apparently we weren't staying here at the hotel but instead were driving to someplace called the "time share" so that Grandma could pretend she was a Mayan princess while floating in the swimmng pool shaped like a Mayan temple. Or something like that.



We had to check out of the hotel to get to our time share today, so Mom and Dad packed; our friend went to get breakfast for the big people, and Grandma tried to feed me my breakfast in the car seat. Hehe -- I wouldn't eat. She'll learn. Between the dumb nebulizer, Grandma wasting time trying to put food in my mouth, and all that packing, it felt like we were hanging out in the room basically forever. We flew all the way across the country to sit in a hotel room. Hey! Parents! We can do that at HOME! Helloooooo.... Anyway, it took a long time to pack everything up again. -- we had a lot of bags and most of them were mine. Something about enough machinery to run a small country, and no, the sink belonged to the hotel, not to us.

Mom keeps saying we'll have fewer bags when we leave, 'cause I'm using up supplies, but I'm not sure. I mean, the first thing Dad did at lunch was buy something called "Klingon Blood Wine" and it looked heavy to me. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, round about lunch time we went to someplace called "Quarks" (and Dad bought the wine next door). We didn't yet have the stroller Mom rented, so I got to ride in the Baby Bjorn with Daddy. It was nicer than bouncing alongside Daddy while he tried to carry me in the carseat yesterday. Anyway, while the big people were talking, someone named "Roggle" who called himself a "Ferengi" came to see me. He said he knew all about tracheostomies and that they had them sometimes on Ferengenar too. He let me take my picture with him. Well, let's be fair. He let DADDY get his picture taken with him. I'm just along to keep things looking cute. See, here it is:



But then, something weird happened. Mom and Dad didn't feed me on time. And they weren't just a little bit late either. They were a lot late, according to my stomach. I tried to tell them, but no one listened. Not Mom, Dad, Grandma, or our friend. I didn't know what to do! Finally, Mom looked at me and said, "are you hungry?" And then she opened a jar of sweet potatoes. Sweet potatoes? By mouth? Where was my tube of formula? Well, my tummy was so empty I figured this would do until they found out where the forumla was packed, so I opened my mouth. Strangely enough, it wasn't so bad this time, and it did make my tummy feel better. So I ate 1/2 a jar.

Then Mom and Dad and Grandma went upstairs to someplace called "Star Trek" and our friend and I walked around. I liked the flashing lights a lot. But then something weird happened again. They still didn't feed me. After a few hours, we went back to Quarks and I asked to eat again, and I almost finished the jar. Everyone seemed very impressed, but then they FINALLY gave me my formula. I tell you, vacation really made these people a little too relaxed on the proper care and feeding of me, the most important person in the world.

Then some lady called a "Klingon" came around and asked if she was my first "interspecies communication." Dad said no, I had already talked to a Ferengi, and she made some rude remarks about that. But we took our picture together anyway. In fact, Daddy was so excited about this picture that he didn't even give anyone else a chance to clean off my face. Here is us with the Klingon:



Then Dad and Mom and I went upstairs to the bridge of the Enterprise D while Grandma and our friend played the slots. I got my picture taken in the Captain's chair, and it was fun. Everyone said I was so cute. I'd show you the picture, but Mom says someone named "Copy Right" won't let me.

Something else was happening in Vegas -- every where I went, I seemed to attract some admirers. I thought everyone would want to talk to me, so I smiled all the time, and sure enough, everyone wants to talk to ME! (And why not, right?)

I was also keeping a secret from everybody. My bottom two teeth had come in, and no one knew. Grandma suspected on the plane when I bit on her finger, but it was my secret, and I did it without ever crying. (Although when Mom hit my tooth at Quarks with the spoon I cried.) Now Dad says I have to learn not to bet my teeth. I'm not sure what that means, but I'd better not do it.

After that, we went to the time share. It was a bit smaller than they'd hoped, but it seemed nice. Mom and Dad went to the store, and I had a bath. Then I cried for my parents. They came back, and Mom said I was wired for sound. I told her I wasn't going to go to sleep at all, no sir, not at ... don't rock me ... help ... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

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Thus endeth our second day of vacation. Tune in tomorrow for more of the adventures of Baby. Also, with much sadness, I have to inform you that Quarks, The Star Trek Experience (with cool ride and museum) and the tre-fun gift shop are all history now, having closed down at the Las Vegas Hilton. According to this web page I know nothing whatsoever about, the attraction may be returning later this year at another location. These stories are all over the internet, so I, for one, can only hope that they are true. Even for the non-Trek fans, the ambiance was something worth seeing at least once. I promise, just going is not a geek alert. Buying a case of Romulan Ale while you are there ... now that is a different story.