A Trip to Vermont

September 7, 2010

This past weekend, Eric and I took Lorelei to Burlington for an end-of-summer getaway. It went really well – she’s definitely a great little traveler (which is a good thing, as Eric and I would probably continue to drag her out in any event, and it’s much more fun for the whole family when she’s not screaming like a banshee).

The one small snag was that Lorelei flatly refused to nap on Sunday. The hotel provided a lovely little porta-crib, complete with mini teddy bear, but she was having none of it. I couldn’t get that damn Aerosmith power ballad out of my head (Don’t want to close my eyes…don’t want to fall asleep…don’t want to miss a thing…)

She dozed a little in the Björn as we were walking around town (incidentally, Lorelei has spent nearly her entire life to date cradled in one piece of Swedish craftsmanship or another, between the Björn and her Ikea crib; if she decides to do her junior year abroad in Stockholm, I guess I’ll know why), but popped up like a squirmy jack-in-the-box as soon as the walking stopped. This led to some interesting mealtimes, during which Eric and I managed to pick the least Björn-friendly meals possible (Eric: a reuben sandwich; me: fish tacos). We did a reasonably good job of keeping the top of Lorelei’s head free of sauerkraut, Russian dressing, and shredded lettuce.

Back in the hotel room, since the nap was just not happening, we kept Lorelei entertained with the Foster Family Dance Party – one of us holding her while the three of us bopped around the room cooing and singing and laughing. She loved it. I’m really glad the houskeeper didn’t pick that particular moment to walk in the door – though if she’d been a fan of the Hustle, she would have been more than welcome to join us.

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