Recently we had the opportunity to visit some family and old family friends near Chicago, and decided to take the girls into the city and make a long weekend out of it.
I don't think we'll do that again any time soon.
Fun was definitely had, and it was worth the trip to spend time with family, but we learned the hard way that three-year-olds are in no way capable of rolling with it when there's a bump in the road or a change in plans, as inevitably occurs when you travel. We got a hotel package that included parking, and decided to use public transportation to get around, figuring the girls would think it was fun. We were right - they loved riding the bus and the subway and the taxi, and when you ask them what the best thing about Chicago was that's what they'll tell you (the McDonald's playland we visited on the way home coming in at a close second). What they did not like so much, however, was when we had to walk a few extra blocks to find the right bus stop (a few extra blocks + three 3-year-olds = 30 extra minutes x much bitter complaining). Or when the first bus that came wasn't ours. Or the second. Or the tenth.
By Saturday night, Tim and I had heard so much griping and whining and complaining (the phrase "But I'm tired of walking" was used at least 172 times that day alone) we were about ready to leave them out on the curb. On Sunday, we drove to the Shedd Aquarium and paid for valet parking. It was perhaps the best $25 we have ever spent.
First night at the hotel:
This arrangement lasted approximately 45 seconds before the "stop touching mes" and "don't move my blankets" started. Julia & Lily managed to share a bed without incident. Eve slept in her tent.
Waiting for the bus:
Lily would like you to know she was extremely unhappy about the waiting.
We finally made it to the Museum of Science & Industry, where they had a huge model train display...
Hatching chicks...
And a great preschool play area...
A big cow to climb on...
And a lunchroom with chairs comfy enough to take a nap on if you're really desperate. (Eve zonked out here for at least half an hour.)
Later that day we also checked out Millenium Park.
Next day was Shedd Aquarium:
Lily made a great mama penguin, patiently sitting on her eggs:
Then it was off to the burbs for a cookout with family. This was the best picture I could get of the girls. With 5 kids 5 and under, I was just happy they were all looking at the camera. The 2 girls that aren't mine are 1st cousins to each other, but 3rd cousins to my trio. (I think. They are my cousins' kids.)
All the cousins watching a movie together while the grown-ups ate dinner. (They kept yelling at us to pipe down.)
Before heading home, hanging out at the hotel:
One other observation from the trip. When we are out and about we enforce potty breaks so that we aren't taking someone to the bathroom every 20 minutes. (And on the subject of public restrooms, I give HUGE kudos to the Shedd for having stepstools that fold up under the sinks in their bathrooms. I am amazed at how few ostensibly child-friendly places provide this simple convenience. Our hand-washing routine in most bathrooms goes something like this: Balance on one leg. Balance 37-pound child on the other bent knee. Contort self into pretzel to reach soap dispenser, which is never right next to the sink, because that would be too easy. Assist first child in washing her hands while twisting around to keep an eye on the other 2 and imploring them not to run out the door/lie on the grody floor/play with the trash can/lick the mirror. Put child one down. Mop up huge puddle on counter. Repeat. Repeat again.) Sorry, where was I? Oh, right. Potty breaks. They are never eager to go and it always takes a lot of persuading to get them to try. They all do ok with public toilets but HATE how loud the flush is, so I always have to promise I won't flush until they leave the stall. Which is obviously problematic with automatic flush toilets. Until this trip I would cover the sensor with my hand until they were out (and just imagine, if you will, the contortions I had to undertake to assist 3 children on & off the potty, pulling up pants, etc. with 4 of us in a tiny restroom stall and me with one hand plastered to the sensor). This trip I finally wised up and remembered a tip I'd read a long time ago: Post-It notes. I brought a stack of small ones with me and used them to "trick the potty" which they thought was hilarious. An hour from home on the way back we needed gas and decided we'd better have a potty break there too. Much wailing and complaining erupted, so Tim and I decided to break about 5 different parenting rules (among them, "don't give in to tantrums" and "don't use food as a reward") and told them if they tried to go we could spend a few minutes looking around the store and they could each pick out some candy.
And that is why in our house, Post-It notes are now called "potty trickers," and gas stations are now "potty stores."
