Full of Beans

The phrase "full of beans" pretty much describes Robin lately. Her energy is boundless. She tears around the room in circles saying "spinning!" til she falls down. She'll bring you a book, let you read half of it, then run away to go and grab another book, so that you can read half of that one. Repeat. If you ever dare pick her up when she is in the middle of play, ho ho!, be prepared for the blunt retort of "DOWN!" as if I had just stopped her from diffusing a bomb or something just as important. In her defense, when followed by a question of "what do you say?" from mommy or daddy, she chimes in sweetly and softly with "please". We're working on our Ps and Qs. I think with all of that energy, Jen has described very well why Robin will NOT be doing any taking care of our next baby for a long long time.

Full of beans also works for daycare, since Flora (our daycare provider) is a vegetarian. And since she feeds Robin, she eats - and loves - a lot of beans. It's strange, but until VERY recently, she hasn't been much of a meat eater at all. Now this isn't a downplay of the energy Robin shows at daycare too. Flora once asked me "which one of you or Jen talks a lot at home?" because Robin is one chatty character. From early on, she could say the names of the kids in the daycare: Ella, Abby, Paige. My favorite is when she says Flora's daughter's name, Anushka. Before saying it, Robin looks proudly at her, knowing she's about to pull off her favorite joke, then says "Gooka!" I think Anushka has grown tired of that game. And by the way, the new words JUST KEEP COMING out of Robin's mouth.

And third, well. Third is a trait that she shares with her daddy. After all, the more beans you eat... you know where I'm going. Toots. Not that she's a very tooty girl, but just today in fact, as she ran around the bathroom naked, she bent over, tooted loadly, then boasted "POOPY!" (Now worries though, she just got the word wrong.)

To finish off this fiber filled post, I feel it is important to document the... memorable adventure to get to Toronto's Pearson airport, gate 4, on our way back from Alyssa, Rob and Toby's place:

After a weekend of wonderful food and wonderful drink (such as the Mexican Bulldog I was introduced to) we had to drive into Toronto from Collingwood, about a 2 hour drive. Luckily, we had a GPS to guide us. However, it helps when the driver (me) decides to actually watch, and more importantly follow, the directions the GPS gives you. In a timely fashion. After a detour through a new housing development, and then one currently under construction, we were back on track on the freeway.
Jen (from the backseat with Robin): "why don't you turn on the volume?"
Much better. Voice directions from the GPS. That will make more sense to my foggy brain. And shortly after, ah, the airport was in sight, with a sign to gate 4. Success.
Jen: "Did we fill up the gas?"
After a near 30 minute detour, and passing numerous gas stations that you could SEE from the freeway, but certainly not get to, we found a gas station. Well, Jen found us a gas station. After filling up and using what I'm sure was the grossest bathroom in southern Ontario we were on our way. Now why was the GPS telling us to go the opposite direction to the airport? Ah yes. On ramps. Freeways don't exist in Winnipeg. So we were on our merry way to gate 4 at Pearson again. After driving back a loooooooooong way to get back onto the skybound highway.
At this time, my stomach was reminding me of all the tasty super bowl food I had the day before. Such a long highway. I can't even see the airport. Internal pressure building. No one would notice if I just released a little bit of bean fueled pressure... 10 seconds of glorious silence. Then, from her carseat:
Robin: "Out!!!!"
Jen: "What's the matter Robin?... ohmy!"
Andy: "Sorry, sorry. We're almost there". Which is little consolation when you are going 120 on the highway in the middle of winter and can't crack a window.
Robin: "Out out!"
GPS: "At highway 407, keep right then take exit left to 403."
Andy: "What the hell does that mean?!"
Jen: "Just follow the directions it shows."
So I do as it says. I swear I did.
GPS: "Recalculating" which is what it says when you've screwed up it's route.
Andy: "No no! I kept right then went on the 403!"
Jen: "You were supposed to go the other way on 403"
GPS: "Recalculating"
Andy: "I know that!"
Robin: "Out!!!" ... daddy may have unconsciously released some pressure into the car again.
Andy: "Recalculate faster! There's 30 different routes to take on this bloody freeway!"
GPS: "Take left on 402. Recalculating"
Andy: "Turn left or not!" I was starting to lose it a little.
Robin: "Bar!" as in cereal bar.
Finally, we arrived at the airport. Hoorah! In we went. So many signs. Ah! Departures. There we go.
Jen: "We still have to return the car"
Andy: "... at departures, right?"
As we drove by, we could SEE where the car should go, but since it was all one way, we couldn't get there. There was absolutely no way. There was only a boulevard between us and the car rental shop, but no way.
Andy: "Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!" I started to laugh uncontrollably.
Robin: "Mama stinky!"
Jen: "No, daddy's stinky" I must have released more gas in my fits of laughter.
There was no choice. We had to leave the airport into the maze of the freeways again.
GPS: "Recalculating"
The GPS then spit out the craziest scribble I had seen yet on the map.
GPS: "Stay left on 407 then stay right on ramp follow blue taxi cab onto route 25745529". Maybe an exaggeration.
Of course, when leaving the airport, there are very few directions on how to get BACK to the airport. Then after a few minutes:
GPS: "Turn right"
Andy: "There IS no right you blasted machine!!!! There's a 100 foot drop!" I actually bellowed this while shaking my finger at the evil little lying map making machine.
Jen: "Why don't you just turn the volume off?" Which I did.
GPS: "Recacl..." glorious silence.
We followed the zig-zagging labyrinth around until we found the signs that led us back to gate 4, managed to find the car rental turn off before the point of no return, and made our way to the plane with plenty of time to spare (I'm sure Jen added the Andy factor in when we decided how early to leave. Did I ever mention that I almost missed our flight to go on our honeymoon because I went to the arcade to play pinball and didn't hear the boarding announcement? Well, Jen remembers.)

In the end, we all learned something from this. When the going gets tough, the toddler and pregnant mother are calm and collected. But daddy might need a soother.