Wait, That Doesn't Make Sense -- Another "Why" Post

If you have been reading this blog for a little while, you probably have realized that I consider myself somewhat of a logical person. I like to think that most things in this world make sense. Maybe I'm misguided, but I get comfort thinking this, so don't go spoiling my illusions.

I guess, when we get down to the bottom of the issue, I don't really care if I agree with someone's logic. I really just want to know they have some and they are using it. Take surgery, for example. If I'm having trouble with my knee, I want to know the surgeon is going to operate logically, to fix things that are related to my knee and would be likely to make me better, as opposed to ... say ... throwing a dart at the wall and saying, "Let's take out her spleen and see if that helps anything."

Basically, I really think (or want to think) that where things don't make sense, either we don't yet know enough, or we are mistaken about some fact. I guess I just said the same thing twice, didn't I? Oh well. It sounded good.

This basic idea of "things should make sense" is what gave rise to today's grouping of "Why" questions. I hope you enjoy them.

1. Let's talk about mankind's trait called a "temper". I assume that the energy and hormones from the "fight or flight" response is largely the culprit for why we retained the ability to get angry. I'm sure at one time, anger was a survival trait. What I can't understand is why we still have the temper tantrum. What ancient benefit was EVER derived from the raving lunacy of a Toddler? I have to think there must be some tremendous benefit gained, because all Toddlers go through several phases of tantrums before they are adults (and some after). And yet, they survive. Their parents allow them to grow up and don't leave them behind on the plains to be eaten by wild cats. Why?

2. Why do people believe that if you cut hair, it grows faster? Where is the intuitive sense that if you cut something dead off the bottom, the live part at the top will do something better, faster, and stronger? Now, granted, if I cut off the super-long tendrils from my potted plants, they begin to sprout more stems from the roots, and more leaves closer to the base, but hair doesn't do that, so it isn't a really good analogy. I don't think anyone is envisioning hair getting wider and thicker when you cut it. Nooo.

3. Okay, here is one. Let's talk about dreams. I have heard (as I am sure you have) that "people don't dream in color". Apparently, some people think, we dream in black and white, and color is added later when we recall the dream after we wake up. On the other hand, a quick Google search will tell you that some people believe that we dream in color, but our dreams are "washed out" to black and white after we wake up. My question is this-- why do we think we can figure this out? If I dream in black and white, but I remember it in color, HOW WILL YOU EVER KNOW? If I dream in color, but I remember it in black and white, HOW WILL YOU EVER PROVE IT? Unless and until we invent a mind-reading device that can see our dreams as we have them, no one can answer this question without resorting to what we remember dreaming. So, why on earth does anyone think we dream one way and remember it another? What gave them that idea in the first place, and why does it persist?

And besides, if we have a mind reading device that works that well, I can think of few parents of pets and small children (yes they are different things) that probably need the device first. Heck, I'll bet there are a few husbands and wives that want it too....

4. From time to time over the years, I have hurt my elbow. Of course, I have hurt my knees, and I have broken toes and fingers, and I have had all manner of illnesses, just like anyone. Inevitably, though, when I hurt my elbow, some otherwise logical person comes up to me and says, "Be sure you don't let your elbow get wet. You will make it worse."

Huh? I have bursitis, or tendonitis, or a torn something or other, but letting my elbow get wet will make it worse? How does that work? What about the tendonitis in my knee? Is that subject to water? How about my broken appendages? (Assuming they aren't in a cast, that is.) No. No, apparently this water-phenomenon is limited to my elbow. Okaaaaayyyyyy....

5. What's the deal with bridges? (Wow, that sounded very Seinfeld-esque, didn't it?) Why does traffic slow down on bridges? Why does an otherwise rational human being approach a bridge in his or her automobile, and step on the breaks until reaching the other side?

I have heard suggestions that people are typically afraid of bridges, so they hit the brakes.

Well, I'm sorry, but explanation doesn't make sense to me. If someone is afraid of something, I think the natural reaction is to move away from it as quickly as possible. I mean, if I'm walking across the Serengetti, and I happen to run into a large cat, I don't approach it with caution and walk slowly by it. No, I take one look and start moving my feet as fast as possible. This reaction may be the absolute wrong thing to do, but nonetheless, I suspect it is what most people would do unless they are wild cat experts and have some other marvelous idea ... like not to walk out on the Serengetti in the first place maybe.

Either way, if you (not you, specifically, just the general "you") are afraid of driving on a bridge, and you nonetheless take the road that has a bridge, I would think you would be more likely to hit the gas to get it over with rather than spend more time actually ON the bridge you are afraid of, inching along, maximizing the time that you could end up dead should the bridge decide to fall into the ravine/river/estuary.

Eh, maybe it's just me.

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Decongestant Dreams

A few days before the second "record breaking snow fall" of this winter season, Darling Husband most generously brought home a cold from the office. Of course, this sort of sharing is absolutely inevitable on Planet Earth. I can't blame him for that. I mean, Toddler with a cold during a major snow event is not the most pleasant way to spend a snowstorm, but I can think of a lot worse. (For starters, there was the hurricane where our basement flooded, or the day Toddler gave himself a black eye by falling ... somewhere ... just as major snow began to fall from the sky.)

Well, this snot infestation was one of the more tenacious ones I've met, forcing me to the drugstore for help. I stood in line at the pharmacy, presented the pharmacist with two forms of government-issued identification and my dental records, signed a registry identifying me as a known decongenstant user, and bought the good stuff. You know ... Mucinex. None of that artificial, non-functioning placebo drugs they put on the mainstream shelves these days. I wanted the stuff that used to be in Sudafed and available in bulk from Costco. I wanted the stuff they used to give me as a kid, before they figured out that it wasn't a good idea to give that stuff to children under 4. And I want to give it to Toddler so he'll quit saying, "MY NOSE IS STUCK!" But alas, I won't. I can't bring myself to disobey the directions that say, "Do not give to a child under the age of 4."

I like to refer to a good decongestant as one that "rings every ounce of water from all the tissues of a body and deposits it directly into the bladder in 15 minute intervals." An antihistamine, on the other hand, sucks in all water to the marrow of the bones, leaving the nostrils, mouth, and skin feeling parched. Match this with salt and even I might be able to sit through a movie with a large size soda.

Of course, if after a couple of days of antihistamines to end the nasal faucet, one takes a good decongestant ... prepare to be up all night peeing out all that water from the marrow of your bones.

I don't know about you, but I am one of those people that doesn't sleep well on decongestants. I don't fall as deeply asleep as usual, and instead I spend most of the night in a semi-conscious state, not quite awake, but aware enough that time is passing and I'm having oddly repetitive dreams about whatever I read or did last before retiring to bed. Most recently it was reviewing a novel about two Amish women... yes that was an odd one to dream about all night. I wouldn't even have tried to read anything, as rotten as I felt, except that Toddler and I had just finished singing, "The Wheels on the Bus," and I certainly didn't want to dream about THAT all night long.

Of course, the cats wanted to be absolutely on top of me, because I was sick, and that is what cats do. Darling Husband assured me that every time they tried to sit on my chest, he would remove them (gently) so I would not feel even more as if I were suffocating. While this was a nice gesture (and not likely to happen given the way he sleeps), it was not necessary. Every twitch of their whiskers, and I was awake. Then, because I woke up, I became aware of the decongestant effect and promptly had to go to the bathroom. During one of these nights, I actually woke up every 15 minutes.

You might think that I would be super tired the next day, but I ask you, what is super tired when you have a Toddler? Plus, with the right combination of cold medicine during the day, I am either not aware of any fatigue, I'm too tired to feel fatigued, or I simply don't care.

To be candid, when I get up more than ... say ... 10 or 15 times a night, I generally fall asleep somewhere around 5:30 AM and hear nothing else until someone shines a light in my face. I don't hear any alarm clocks and no Toddlers screaming "GOOD MORNING!" This experience in and of itself is enough to keep me smiling for hours. Of course, when Toddler finds the flashlight or turns on the lightswitch ... well.

Finally, the last and best side effect of spending an entire night up with decongestant bladder is the scale the next morning. Whew, who knew water could weigh so much? That kind of reading will brighten any outlook for sure!

Yes, I don't often go the extra step for drug-induced decongestant non-sleep, but sometimes it is worth it.

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At Last, the Final Installment of Baby's Journal

Well, Baby has a lot to say today, so without wasting any time, let's away to Las Vegas in this installment of "Memories of Vacations Past."

Baby’s Travel Log, Day 8, Saturday, transcribed on this, the following Saturday:

Boy, did we try to do a lot today. It didn’t make things easier that I didn’t have good night on Friday. Mom and especially Dad were up quite a bit trying to deal with the monitor that wouldn’t shut up. It looks like things on that end of our life is back to normal. It's a good thing the doctors are certain that I just don't read well on monitors, or everyone would be scared instead of really, really grumpy.

We started out at the Bellagio for brunch, and my parents had toothpicks in their eyes to help prop them up. We had planned to be out all day, and for the first time we remembered everything we needed for an all day trip – change of clothes, the power cord to my suction machine, lots of food, burp cloths … you know. We were going to go to some casinos, then go over to Harrahs to see the magic show and my showgirl at 3, then go to Excalibur at night for a show with real live horses and jousting and stuff. Apparently my Dad loves this sort of thing and I am supposed to “get used to it” so that I’m ready for something called the “Renaissance Faire” this fall. Hmmm.

But, on the way to park at the Bellagio, Dad remembered we forgot something. We had the showgirl tickets, but no Jousting tickets. So, after brunch, Mom and our friend and Grandma and I walked to Caesar’s Palace while Dad drove back. He was planning on parking at Harrahs and meeting us at Caesars. The schedule was a bit hectic, but it was all about this one last chance to find a showgirl in all of Las Vegas. (You’d think this wouldn’t have been so hard.) We were going to try to find her at 1:00, but at brunch we decided that it just wouldn’t work, so we were going to go at 3.

Things seldom work out the way you plan them, though. And if you know my parents, you know this is especially true in their case. While Mom, our friend, Grandma and I started walking to Caesar’s, Dad was trying to get back to the unit and then find us. There was something wrong at the Strip on the way back, though, and he couldn’t get to Harrahs. He had to park at the Venetian and walk to Caesars. Here is what Caesars looks like, if you've never seen it:



In the meantime, not far from the Bellagio fountain, we found my showgirl, and her sister the showgirl. There they were, walking down the Strip, looking for me! So, instead of Dad and me getting our pics taken with a showgirl, Mom and I did. And, in true good sportsmanship spirit, Dad was okay with this. Of course, Mom won't let you see those pictures, but she will let me show you the pictures of the showgirls with just me.





That night, dinner was fun. I got to sit on Mom’s lap and eat what Grandma fed me, then the show started. We were in the front row, and there were all kinds of funky lights, and horses. I wasn’t too sure this was entirely safe. I mean, horses? This close to food? Really? It was the loudest place maybe I’d ever been. I got nervous and cried on Dad’s shoulder a little bit once, but I calmed down when Mom and Dad both hugged me. I wasn’t sure what to do when we had the audience participation song, and we had to keep cheering “Yes, yes, yes,” and ‘No, No, No,” but we did it anyway. From then on, every time the whole room yelled, I looked at Dad. If he was yelling too, I relaxed. But, I had skipped naps, and I was worn out, and it was a bit much. So, right before the finale, Mom took me from Dad and said if I was beating my leg to stay awake, I needed to sleep. I didn’t think I could, but Mom knows the tricks, and I gave up. Apparently I even missed something called “fireworks” inside the building. That would have been pretty cool if I could have seen it. Here is where we were:



I didn’t quite stay asleep, though. We still had to go to the Foundation Room at Mandalay Bay, so we went back to the car and changed clothes. I wasn’t going to change, but I woke up, so I had to. I wore my nice collar shirt, and some shoes for a change (although I kicked them off three times before we got inside, including one time Mom didn’t see, and we had to go the whole way back to the car for it).

I was sleepy, but apparently Mom and Grandma had a good time reconnecting with someone named “Mr. Craig” and said it was great to see him, and the view was amazing. It was a great night, very pleasant. Here is a picture. I heard a rumor this spot was where they take the opening shots for CSI, but I wouldn't know. I'm not allowed to watch CSI.



Well, tomorrow we go home. I’m secretly glad, but don’t tell anyone.

*****

Message from Baby: As a wrap-up from the vacation, I wanted to let you know a few things. I spared you all the tale of the trip home, which was not a lot of fun. Bags got lost, the flight was delayed, keys were in the bag that got lost, but I WAS SO GLAD TO BE HOME! I thought we were never coming home again, and I was so excited.

Since then, Mom's cellphone has been returned -- it just arrived by mail today. And, I managed to break another Blackberry. I won't tell her how I did it, but it's giving her all kinds of error messages today -- heh, heh, heh.

Today we're going to see my aunt and uncle. Yay! (I think. I don't remember them) Mom says we will have tons of fun, and she's usually right about stuff like that. But then there was something about my Aunt helping me finally learn to drink out of a cup, and that has me a bit concerned. I might have started some unreasonable expectations with that eating thing in Las Vegas. Hmmm.

*******

Thus endeth the travel tales of Baby. Tomorrow, our blog will resume with its regularly scheduled content ... unless we have another snowstorm, in which case I will have to tell you about our trip to the Carribean or something.

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Baby's Journal, Days 6 and 7 from the Never-Ending Vacation Diary

Well, I'm pretty sure that if you are here reading today, with a title like the one above, you aren't here to listen to me rant about any more weather. You want to go back to Las Vegas with my (formerly) 8 month old.

So, without further ado ...

Baby’s Travel Log, Day 6, Thursday, transcribed on this, the following Tuesday:

Today we went to Circus Circus, a kid friendly casino. I liked it, but I slept, so Mom and Dad said, “what’s the point?” and went to the Bellaggio. We had to cut things short because Mom and Dad and our friend were going to see “O” and I got to stay with Grandma. From what Mom said, I think I was the lucky one, and Grandma was the smart one. Then again, Mom and Grandma aren’t exactly the “Cirque Du Soleil” type, but Daddy sure is. Kinda makes you wonder what they have in common, doesn’t it?

From my perspective, this whole vacation is getting routine. Up in the morning; off to see more shining lights; funny restaurants; home to sleep. Our friend had a big day, though, hitting a couple hundred dollars on the slot machines, lucky dog. Wish I was allowed near those slot machines. I would bang those buttons something fierce!

*****

Baby’s Travel Log, Day 7, Friday, transcribed on this, the following Friday:

Today we got a nice relaxed start. I fooled around with breakfast, then tried my PMV speaking valve for awhile (it seems harder now). Then Mom and Dad put me in the stroller and I got excited because I thought we were going somewhere, but they said, “take a nap”. What a rip off. (We rented a stroller, by the way, from a place called "Mommy Rents". They delivered it to our timeshare on Sunday, along with a highchair, and a pack'n'play and an exersaucer, for a reasonable price. This service is a lifesaver, because I don’t know how Mom would have managed to get it all on the plane.) Eventually I buried my face in my blankie and slept. I woke up on the way to the pool, where I snoozed again as Mom and Dad soaked in the hot tub, then I ate a snack.

Here is a picture of me before we went to the pool, and before I yacked on my shirt and needed a change. This is where I was supposed to "take a nap":



THEN the fun started. We changed and went to someplace called “Ballys” to look for my showgirl. She wasn’t there today, but we got some tickets to try to go to someplace called “Harrahs” to see her tomorrow. I don’t know if we’ll really go or not, as the tickets were free. They would require Mom and/or Dad and/or the rest of the party to engage in a certain number of “minimum drinks” though. I don’t think after all this time it would be too hard to persuade them to do that.

Anyway, since my showgirl wasn’t at Bally’s, Mom and I walked from Ballys to MGM while Daddy did something about moving the car … or something. It was a long hot walk for me with the sun in my face, and I was really quiet, even though all kinds of people stopped to try to shake my hand or pinch my arm. (Why does everyone want to touch me?)



Here is what the MGM looks like.

Once I cooled off, I took a nap and woke up in a pavilion with Dad where he fed my big empty belly. I got to eat almost a jar of chicken (lots of calories), and I even sipped half an ounce out of a big people cup. That was scary, but we did it. I think I’ve eaten more on this trip then I have in my entire life. I understand a lot of people say that in Las Vegas.



(Don't worry, there really wasn't coffee in the cup.)

Then we walked some more, and sat some more, and then I saw the LION cage with Mom while Dad “tried his luck”. The lions were sleeping, but there was a WATERFALL!!!!!! It was so cool. We next walked into a shop where I made friends with the clerk while Mom helped me buy Dad a shirt that had a big lion on it and said, “Here human, human, human.” Mom said it was funny and I would understand someday.

Last, we went to the Rainforest Café, where they had an even BIGGER waterfall. I was so amazed. It was the coolest thing. There were only two not-cool things. These waiters kept screaming “VOLCANO” behind my back and scaring me, but once I saw who they were, I was better. The other problem was that Mom and Dad were eating, and no one was feeding me anything. I kept making hungry faces and crying, but Mom and Dad looked confused. Something about it was only two hours since I ate last, but I didn’t care. They were eating, so I wanted to eat. So, out came the bananas, and I was happy. I like to eat in strange places – Quarks, Rainforest Café, the Farmer’s Market at MGM. I don’t like to eat in normal places. I certainly don’t like to eat at home.

When we were packing to leave, two ladies came up and asked to meet me. One was about to be a grandma, and she said I was the cutest thing she had ever seen. She saw me playing with Mom’s face and hugging her, and she thought that it was adorable and wanted to meet me. So, I smiled at her, and she and her friend went away happy. I am glad I could be of service! Then we went home to see Grandma and our friend and hear all about the Grand Canyon. Sounds like they had a good time too.

Tomorrow we have one last day to fit in everything we need to fit in. Dad is determined to find that showgirl for us to get our picture taken with. I guess we're going to Harrahs. (They have a decent buffet, too, we were told by the guy at Ballys.)

More tomorrow.

*****

And, yes, tomorrow I will bring you the conclusion of this epic saga. Stay tuned.

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Baby's Journal, Days 4 and 5 -- or More Memories ... You Get The Idea

At the time I sit down to write this blog entry, The Weather Channel is telling me that 4-8 inches of snow are on the way. Yes. More snow to cap off this record breaking week. Okay, whoever pissed off Jack Frost, I want a written apology sent right now, with a carbon copy posted on your blog immediately. This weather is getting ridiculous, and you (whoever you are) need to fix it. Right now.

The good news is the US Postal Service is faithfully delivering my mail every day. I can't be as flattering about the delivery service that is holding my new computer hostage. But ... My mother told me if I can't say anything nice ... well ... let's just journey back to sunny Las Vegas, shall we? The weather is so much more pleasant there.

Baby’s Travel Log -- Day 4, Tuesday, transcribed on this, the following Tuesday:

Today I had it. We all went to Excalibur and had brunch at a cafe.



Mom kept looking at that Blackberry thing again. She did that for a little while at the Venetian yesterday, too, darn her. And, she fed me at the cafe while I was hungry, but it took her a long time to figure out that I didn't want what she was feeding me -- I wanted the other jar. I wanted to eat green today, not orange. How could she not know? Aren’t mothers supposed to know that stuff?

Later the grownups kept taking turns playing the slots and playing with me. When it was Mom's turn, I decided to take matters into my own hands. She was burping me on her shoulder, and I spotted the Blackberry. It was in the chest pocket of her jeans jacket, right below me. So I went for it. BLAAAAHHHHH right down the pocket. I soaked it good, and it STOPPED WORKING for awhile, even after Mom and Dad took it apart to dry it off. YAY! Score one for the baby! After that Mom bought a new shirt and jacket. As Grandma is so fond of observing, that formula smells even worse coming out then it does going in.

Then we went to New York, New York, where the grownups once again played “Hand Off The Baby” so they could get in some good slot-playing time. I kept trying to nap, but the people screaming on the roller coaster kept scaring me, so that was kind of a bust.



Meanwhile, all the grownups kept complaining about not getting any sleep, but it wasn’t because they were up all night enjoying the Vegas night life. No … they were futzing with my equipment, which kept fritzing and retaining water. Last night supposedly was better but not great. I wouldn't know, because, just like always, I slept like a rock. My alarm went off about 4x an hour, even on the lower setting Dad programmed, instead of 6x an hour. Hey, it gave them an extra 5 minutes of sleep each time. What's wrong with that?

Don’t my parents really know how to have fun?

*****

Baby's Travel Log, Day 5, Wednesday, transcribed on this, the following Tuesday:

Well, the O2 monitor is everyone’s least favorite piece of equipment. When I sleep, it always says I’m not breathing well, but the doctors say it is lying. Dad hates it, and our friend has threatened to throw it into the pool. Let's just say that she isn't the first one to threaten to do serious damage to it. The "darn thing" as Dad calls it when he is being his most polite, was going off about 4x an hour, and at least 1x an hour, someone has to get up and fix the cord, or empty the water from my hose, or re-attach the sensor on another spot.

Well, finally on Tuesday (last night) I had a great night – my levels were 97 or above all night long (where they probably always are, just the dumb monitor can’t figure it out). I think Mom and Dad finally SLEPT, which is a good thing because I like it when they are well rested and happy. They play a lot more that way and are a whole lot less surly. I'm sure a wide awake Mom would have known yesterday that I wanted to eat green not orange.

I got to stay at the time share today with our friend for the afternoon, yay!!!! I like that. Mom and Dad and Grandma went off to play some slots without having to play "Pass the Baby" or play games like, "Let's See How Fast We Can Run the Baby Through the Casino So Security Doesn't Notice He is Here." I rather like that game, but it seems to make Mom and Dad a little bit bad-tempered. Having to go back to the security desk when I threw my blankie on the floor during one of this trips and didn't mention it for about an hour was not another good moment for us.

I understand that Mom had a good day at the slot machines in Treasure Island today. I had a good day in the hammock with our friend and all by myself. It was my very first hammock. Unlike the Aflac Duck, I did not flip out of it. Whew!

**********
Well, that brought back memories. Our office tech dude told me I was the first person to ever file a request for a replacement Blackberry claiming, "Death by Puking." He thought about trying to repair it by drying it with a special machine, but after he found out what the "moisture" was, he decided to junk it. Can you really blame him? Now if only I had a new outfit every single time that happened ... well ... I guess I'm still dreaming.

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Days 3 of Baby's Vacation -- Still More Memories From Vacations Past

Well, it has been about a week since the snow started falling in earnest. Except for a brief stint to the store last Monday, Toddler and I have been basically snowed in. We wouldn't have even tried to venture out on Monday except the second storm was on its way, and we were out of some necessities for the storm. Specifically, we were out of soda and coffee creamer. Without those two things, I'm not sure we could have survived.

Now, apparently, yet another storm is on its way to us, but we do have a few days reprieve to get ready. This time we need to head to the store for more essentials, like chicken nuggets and applesauce. If you don't think these foods are essential, you don't have a small child.

I suppose, techincally, Toddler and I could have left the house today, or even yesterday. After all, DH had to be at work all this week, except for Monday and Wednesday when he figured it wasn't worth risking his life to save a vacation day. As for Toddler and me, I am guessing that any place we might have wanted to go was either closed or was using the parking lot as a snow storage facility.

So, once again, I find myself returning to dreams of vacations past. Without further ado, I present to you Day 3 of Baby's vacation to Vegas.

Baby’s Travel Log, Day 3, Monday 2/25, transcribed on this, the following Monday:

The morning started out slowly – it took awhile to get going today, what with still trying to figure out where Mom packed everything. I am telling you, we are losing lots and lots of valuable casino time in the mornings. Hasn’t anyone remembered that I am at my most charming in the morning, and the day is going downhill after that? Anyway, somehow Mom’s cell phone got lost from the old hotel to this new time share, and she wasn’t very happy about it. She was also using her Blackberry to talk to folks at work (I thought we left them behind in Virginia!!!!) She decided to have a “conference call” at 9AM, so Dad and I had a nebulizer and had some breakfast. I ate better than any breakfast before. Then all the big people took me to another breakfast at IHOP, where Mom and Grandma split two breakfasts, and there was so much food on the table there almost wasn’t room for another plate. Then Grandma (what a card, this woman needs a stand-up act), asked for someone to roll her out of the restaurant because she was soooo fullll. Or, at least, that’s what they kept repeating in the car, because I actually slept through the whole thing. I mean, by the time we finally GOT to breakfast, I figured it was nap time.

Then, as if we weren’t postponing our vacation long enough already, we went to the grocery store to pick up some necessary stuff (like soda and baby food and napkins and donuts), and while Mom and Grandma were in the store, Daddy and our friend made me try my PMV in the van. HEY! I thought we were on vacation! I didn’t think I was supposed to be doing any speech/breathing therapy on vacation! Let me tell you, this PMV thing is a lot easier when I can watch the bunnies of Bunnytown (and Miss Pinky Pinkerton, the Super Silly Sportscaster on Bunnytown – she’s so pretty I have to smile every time I see her.) ***Editor’s note – a “PMV” is a passy-muir speaking valve for a tracheostomy tube. Many children find it a challenge to learn to use. “Bunnytown” was a wonderful television show on The Disney Channel that, sadly, is no longer on the air. Darn it! I believe you can still find it on iTunes.)***

After all that, Mom, Dad, Grandma and I went to Venice. I mean, we went to the Venetian. It LOOKED like Venice. I got to walk around all the canal stores with first Daddy, then Mommy. Well, actually, Daddy and Mommy did all the walking, and I stayed in my rent-a-stroller. Daddy kept telling me that he was going to figure out a way to get my picture taken with a showgirl – whatever that is. That sounds okay to me – I’ve been flirting with lots of girls on this trip. Daddy is using me to get himself into a whole lot of pictures on this trip, I think.

We went on a boat ride outside in the canal. Mom and Dad thoroughly embarrassed me by changing my diaper and making me moon the Strip before getting into the boat, but that was happening to a lot of babies all around Las Vegas, so I just decided to smile and go with it. The boat driver sang to me – I didn’t like it the first time, but the second song was pretty cool and I tapped my feet and grinned at everybody.

Here are some pictures of Venice – I mean the Venetian. (No, there are no pictures of me mooning the Strip.) If you are wondering why there are very few pictures of Mom, she says to say that she is the one with the camera, and even when she isn’t, she’s the one with the cropping tool. You'll see what I mean.







Finally, after a big day, I got to go home and hang out with our friend. (Whew!) Mom and Dad and Grandma all went out to dinner with some friends and I wasn’t allowed to go. But that is okay, because I got a chance to play games and sleep after skipping lots of my naps.

*******

Well, I don't know what the weather is actually going to be come Monday, but stay tuned for more of Toddler -- I mean Baby's -- travel journal. I figure we should print the rest of it, snow or no snow. After all, its nice to visit the Vegas sunshine, even if only in my mind.

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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.

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