Seeing as how I am currently trying to get Calder cleaned and dressed for our trip to the Museum of Science + Industry today, it makes total sense that now is when I would finally decided to write about what we did last weekend. Sure I could have found a better time to write this such as when Calder isn't launching himself from cushion to cushion at the dog in his complete altogether while singing along with the Little Einsteins (He is waaaay excited about this little trip. "Body parts!? Auntie Cary?!") but yesterday I was given a little motivation to lay fingers to keyboard and tell you about our not really all that exciting day. I mean, that girl writes a post EVERY DAY. Can you imagine that? I think her child is a fake, that's the only explanation for having that much time and energy to blog.
So. Last Saturday. Originally it started out as something simple. Bruce had hockey and Calder needed a haircut quite badly. Hockey place and haircut place are conveniently located in the same suburb. This same suburb also has a nice children's museum. Not Indianapolis palace of childlike wonder nice but still, nice enough for $12. As a one car family, a very simple plan developed: Drop Bruce off at hockey, take Calder to haircut, take Calder to museum, pick Bruce up from hockey.
The first part of the schedule went off smoothly. Calder got his haircut at the same fancy kid-centric place as last time. Now, I know I could have saved myself some cash and just brought him any old place but I took a lesson from Calder's cousin Q who ended up looking like a Marine recruit the first time my sister thought she could get away with non-airplane shaped salon chairs and brought Calder back to the land of scissors and distractions. He acquitted himself admirable I must say. I would totally post pictures of him post snip but then you'd just say, "I thought you said you got him a haircut?" Yes, Calder wasn't interested in losing too much fuzz, he's worked so long to acquire it, you know, so the stylist basically trimmed his mullet (me to her: "He's half Canadian. He comes by it honestly.") to a less Deep South length and cleaned up the front a tad and voila! Calder still has a whole mop of feather fine, blondish hair, it's just now less Farrah and more Bieber.
After a successful haircut we pretty much drove across the street to the Kohl Children's Museum. We'd been there before so I knew he'd enjoy it. While they don't have any kind of body parts display they do have a pretty impressive water room and I know Calder likes the fake train engine. As to the body parts. Since out visit to Louisville, Calder has been OBSESSED with the human body. He can now name most of the organs on his cool Sesame t-shirt (he gets stuck on the pancreas) and likes to thumb through kid's anatomy books at the book store. This can only mean one thing, he's either going to be a doctor or a serial killer. ANYWAYS. Calder=having lots of fun at the museum. But so were the seven or so different birthday parties going on that day. I had assumed that getting there at the crack of opening would allow us some quiet(ish) time there where I didn't have to be constantly vigillant for some larger kid throwing Calder out of the way to himself play with the air tubes.
I think at this point it is worth noting that A. Bruce had just informed me that he would be staying ling than originally planned and B. I hadn't had anything to eat yet that day. Seeing as how I was mostly fed up with the museum and Calder was starting to get dismissive of their lack of dinosaurs and body parts, we ditched the eleventy billion other children and headed out to lunch. At a place that specializes in having lots and lots of beers. Naturally. Actually, I chose that place because it provided a great bribery opportunity. If Calder behaved himself, he'd get to go to the nifty independent toy store across the street. And if he ate his lunch, he might even get a toy. Of course what he didn't know was that we still had several hours to kill so we'd probably be going there regardless. Let me tell you, bribery may not be the best method of raising a child but hot damn it certainly works. Calder ate most of his lunch and even scarfed down portions of mine.
Seeing as how lunch was a well-behaved success, I made good on my promise and took Calder toy shopping. He got a squishy shark ring that lights up, a book about zombies that makes noise, and a tin whistle because he has begun requesting a musical instrument as of late. He really, REALLY like Little Einsteins lately. All of this came out to under $15. Calder is a very cheap date. It's me that likes to run up the tab because, not really feeling in the mood to continue shopping, I decided that what Calder and I really out to be doing was taking in a movie. Megamind to be specific. So I texted Bruce that we may be a tad late in picking him up but tough noogs, we'd been waiting for him all day. Other than a mid-film pee break, Calder was a veritable angel during the movie. Of course it could be by that point the child was friggin' exhausted and would have fallen asleep in my lap but for the constant explosion-y noises on screen.
Whatever the cause, Calder was good. And that's why I think I felt compelled to tell you about this whole boring day. For the duration, Calder was good. No, he was GOOD. My child had not one tantrum, not one thrashing fit, not one sulky-fest pouting session. It was amazing. We had lovely, if occasionally somewhat nonsensical conversations. I didn't yell once. We played and cuddled. Calder acted like I wasn't totally detrimental to his having a good time. I had my baby back. The terrible twos monster decided to take the day off and Calder and I got to have a great day together. It was the best date I have had in ages.