LABOR Day Weekend

So, Labor Day Weekend....really what is it that we are supposed to be celebrating? And how is it that 3 day weekends never end up being quite as relaxing as they sound. We have the horrible habit of trying to squeeze too much in too little amount of time. In all actually this Labor Day weekend wasn't too bad in that sense, I suppose. That is considering the possibilities of what could have been planned.

My wonderful younger sister, Aunt "Guya", as she is called by Big Boy (and I'm sure Boopy will follow suit) came to visit and extend a welcome helping hand to Mama Vaughn while Papa Vaughn is still gone for training. In proper fashion we began the weekend with LABOR. Saturday found me shooting wedding pictures all day out of town in 100+ heat outside and wearing black while Guya herding Big Boy and Boopy on an adventure getting lost going to the park and getting her exercise chasing them all about the house. A fruitful and busy day. One that would make any labor camp dictator proud.

Sunday the temptation to relax was a bit easier to try to indulge in so spending a day at the mall sounded like a surefire way to stay clear of the LABORS that could and would tempt us at home. However, what I somehow always forget and what Guya quickly learned, is that taking two small children to the mall for pleasure is actually an act of LABOR. It's LABOR so intense that it comes at you like a gale wind, knocking you flat on your back while you try to catch your breath and wonder what happened and how in the world did you end up on the wet dew damp ground soaked in mud with leaves and gum stuck all in your hair. Okay, so maybe we didn't end up with mud, leaves and gum stuck forever on our bodies but I'm sure we were a health risk ridden with germs that come from hanging out in the mall play area too long and getting to know all too well the filth found on mall bathroom floors.

While the mall play area is a great place for kids to get a lot of pent up energy out, it also acts as a charging force energizing them into highly active none stop wind up toys. To make matters worse, we first fueled them up with lunch, let them play and then attempted to actually take them shopping and patiently wait on us while we tried on clothes. I'm sure we made the few people daring enough to come anywhere near the changing room we chose, chuckle and think happy thoughts to themselves that they were NOT shopping with a little boy and toddler in tow. After kids spilling water as they fought over a water bottle, wiped baby wipes all over the mirrors, and we bare kept from peeing our pants after laughing too much, we spilled out of the tiny changing area, bought our few purchases and made our way through the remainder of the mall. We ventured in to say "hi" to Mickey Mouse at the Disney store, bribed Big Boy with the thought of a Hungry Bear cookie in order to leave, danced at the entrance of Abercrombie and Fitch, watched pennies roll in the big circular fundraiser money pit and introduced Guya to the joy of potty stops while potty training.

Ah, the fun of taking two small kids into the bathroom with you and encouraging a reluctant stubborn child to utilize the wonderful creation that is the toilet. A fear of germs is no longer an issue. It's now a matter of limiting the times the toilet is touched, bare feet walk on the ground (since apparently you have to take off your entire bottom half of clothing to pee), walls are rubbed up against, toilet paper is dragged across the floor, all while hoping everyone makes it out without getting wet. After lengthy discussions of being a "Big Boy" and going pee pee, inviting Guya in to join us, flushing the toilet nearly 100 times, getting everyone else to go pee-pee, Big Boy finally took his turn. I'd like to think I won him over with how great it is to be Big, but I'm sure it was once again the bribery of a cookie that made him cave and give in to the toilet.

Our laborious Sunday was nicely finished off with at home with a few wine coolers, couple alcoholic ciders and Guya threatening not to have kids for another 12 years so that she can ship them off to me since I'll have teenagers and toddlers will be a breeze. Little does she know that at 12 years old, I'm shipping Big Boy and Boopy to her to deal with.

As for Monday, the day that should once again be a day of rest from Labor, was far from restful. While Guya did do an awesome thing and let me sleep in until 9 am (truly wonderful!), we later attempted to tackle as many household chores as possible before Guya was to fly out in the evening. With a little too much help from our short two legged friends my bathroom was scrubbed, clothes were hung and put away, floors were swept, dishes were cleaned and a sense of accomplishment was finally ours.