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Father and son.






Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Whew, am I ever glad to be home. It's not that I didn't have a good trip, because I did, but traveling with a baby - man. There's the strategic binky insertion efforts involving a blind car-seat reconnaissance and a hope-that's-his-mouth maneuver while barreling down I-5; there's the slowly dawning realization that you've got a shit-filled diaper, friend, and there's no rest area in sight; and that's before you even get to your destination where you must deal with a fussy baby in a foreign locale. Abandon hope, weary traveller, for there is no rocking chair.

We drove to Bend first, where we stayed in a wonderful condo that served as home base for our Perfect Storm (clean diaper, just-fed baby, child's murderous rage briefly quelled) outings. Bend - a high desert area of Central Oregon, for those who aren't familiar - was beautiful, every surface dolloped with snow and the sky a brilliant blue. The mountains stood out in glorious contrast, jutting up in every direction. We didn't get to ski or snowshoe or do much in the way of exploration, but it was fantastic just being there.

I was glad we saved our pennies for the place we rented, because this was our first recreational trip with Riley and we learned that "vacation" and "baby" are in fact not two great tastes that taste great together. You can't just sit and relax when you want, you can't go to the places you might normally go, you can't sleep in, etc. It was nice to have the pretty view and the comfortable surroundings to help make up for the fact that instead of clinking glasses in a nice restaurant, we were bolting our dinner in shifts while Riley serenaded us with that old romantic favorite, "I'm Inconsolable For No Goddamn Reason".


Our living room.


Looking out the windows.


See the deer?


Nearby Deschutes river trail.


Looking upriver.


I am wearing both a dorky hat and hideous turquoise jacket. Am fashionable snow bunny. Hopefully not visible: clear, glistening droplet of nose-goo.


Bend's Drake park.


Trees, frozen and pretty.


The perfect murder weapons.


Middle and north mountains that make up the Three Sisters.


Mt. Jefferson in the distance.


There were spectacular sunrises and sunsets in Bend.


Cuteness on the condo couch.


And on the bed.


From Bend we headed to the coast for our early Christmas in Coos Bay. JB's brother's girlfriend's parents (pay attention, there will be a quiz) were also visiting, and half the town stopped by at one point or another to 'see the baby', and I got awfully tired of smiling and saying "yes, he is, isn't he?", but it was a festive occasion overall. We got a brief break on Sunday when we left Riley with the grandparents and went to King Kong, which, by the way, was awesome, and on Monday we drove all the way back home, where our front yard has been dug all to hell in preparation for this garage business and our main water line was broken. Hooray!


Growly day on the Oregon coast.


JB's mom was freaking out on this walk, despite the fact that they took us out there. I think she told me to be careful about, oh, 48692014 times. I should have dangled Riley over the edge on a bungie cord, just to see what she would have done.

(I'm kidding.)

(Sort of.)


Dog! Noble Dog. Won't anyone think of the dog?


Well, they are almost ready to acknowlege each other.


How much do you want to poke that bellybutton? Or deliver a high-octane zerbert?


I like to pretend Riley has a french accent when he wears this shirt. "Ah, oui!" he says. "Bring me zee baguette, and zee escargot!"


When we got home last night, I was changing Riley and he all of a sudden recognized his feet. For, I think, the first time. So, so adorable - now he tries to jam them in his mouth.


My boys.


A final photo, because surely we have not included ENOUGH. I just wanted to post this one because it is so very, very labial. Who gives you blog labia, baby?


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