We learned a lot of things this weekend while retreating with the choir. I learned that even if hover-nursing in the van is employed, Timothy still won’t be happy that he is in his car seat. Which led to the discovery that the Arby’s in Spartanburg, SC does not have changing stations in the bathrooms. What’s up with that?
I learned that everyone should have at least seven cups of coffee before beginning a choir rehearsal at 9:30 a.m. Or maybe that’s just me. Either way, I found myself wanting to stab myself in the eyes a couple times when things got intense. I’m just a sensitive gal, you know? I like my body temperature to be regulated and the relative humidity to be just right. I don’t like out-of-tune pianos or singing in a carpeted room, but these things can be overlooked because the fact was we were enjoying beautiful weather outside of the rehearsal room and delicious meals not cooked by us.
Sleep isn’t something I expect while on choir retreat. I mean, I usually have an infant with me or am pregnant and sleeping on a hard twin-sized bed. This year’s sleeping situation was really no surprise. Timothy disagreed with us about how much and how long he was supposed to sleep at night, so our first night there was spent tossing, turning, and grumbling every hour when he would wake up to let us know he did not want to be in our 50’s-style beds-pushed-together bed. I’m fairly sure part of the problem was all the sleeping he did in the car and how restless it left him. Oh, and it was about 90 degrees in our room because evidently the “comfort zone” on the thermostat meant “TROPICAL ZONE”.
Jamie was happy to come along for the ride this year and joined the festivities around the campfire with his concertina. He learned that there are several verses of “Whiskey in the Jar” that he didn’t know. For the record, the tradition of putting out the campfire with the rest of the men was not appealing, so he did not participate.
Timothy enjoyed himself as much as an almost seven-month-old can in the mountains. I brought along toys and he got to chill with his friend Emmy. They hung out a lot, cried together, babbled at each other, and captured the attention of all the baby-crazy grown-ups. Even though he was sad when we wouldn’t let him pull our dinner plates off the table or share our coffee, the fresh air outside was distracting and invigorating. Yet somehow, he maintained an aura of aloofness that had us adults making some crazy noises and faces just to get him to smile.
Obviously he wasn’t going to act like he cared.
(stolen from my good friend’s facebook. THANK YOU MARY ANN!)