I will say this about having you’re kids at a ridiculously young age like my parents did: by the time your last kid is out of the house (me just before my 17th birthday), you’re still in your early 40s and all that disposable income that went to keeping your kid alive can now be spent on anything you desire. And right now they desire to visit their granddaughter. Not that I blame them; she’s pretty amazing.
So, yes, my parents were here for a week and we made up for the last time they visited when Stella was a mere two weeks old and I was in no condition (emotionally and physically) to do anything. They arrived Thursday afternoon and we promptly had the spiciest Thai food ever even though we ordered it medium, which usually means mild. I’ll remember that for next time. There was a moment when I worried how the trip would go because Stella was a little fussy when my mom got in the back seat with her. There were many tears while my mom tried everything to cheer her up. Turns out she only needed to be left alone to calm herself down. Once she found her fingers she was ready to for some snuggle time with her grandparents.
Wes took Friday and Monday off so the following morning we packed up early and headed to Koko Head because nothing is more relaxing than climbing up 1,000+ railroad ties. Wes carried Stella in the backpack and nearly everybody we passed commented on what an awesome dad he was and while I agree that he is a great father, it has nothing to do with him carrying her in a backpack while we hike. The bar is set very low for fathers, apparently.
My mom bought Stella this outfit for Christmas. It’s her exercise outfit. It comes with a pink skirt, too, but that just didn’t make sense in the backpack. She was ready to hike.
Even after seeing what was between us and the top Stella was still ready to go. Wes said that every time he stopped to wait for us (yes, the man carrying the extra 20 pounds finished before the rest of us) she would kick her feet as if to tell him to get going!
Yawning while carrying her. I’m pretty sure that means he didn’t exert that much energy and therefore does not need to be made to feel like a god for carrying his own daughter around. Not that I want to carry her up those railroad ties.
The next day we went out to Menehune Mac to take a chocolate making class, which we took to mean we’d be mixing chocolates and molding them and basically acting like Lucy and Ethel in that one skit (you know the one I’m talking about) but what it really meant was that we’d wander around the store for 20 minutes while they waited for two more people who never showed up and then move into the chocolate mixing facility to spoon some milk chocolate and macadamia nuts into paper cups and then go back out the store front to listen to a 15 minute speech on what makes them different than all the other chocolatiers. We each took home a little box of chocolate and then bought two more boxes of their sugar-free dark chocolate which I now want all the time (no sugar means I can eat as much as I like and not feel sick and dark chocolate is good for my heart so it’s also good for me!) it is that good. We had to wear hairnets while we were spooning our chocolate in. Even Stella, whose net kept falling over her eye.
After the chocolate class we still had plenty of time to kill so we went to Waikiki where we took Stella to see the koi fish and penguins. I’m not sure how interested in them she was, but we got some good photographs of her looking like maybe she could care. At lunch Wes changed Stella’s diaper and our waitress came over to tell me what an amazing father he was for changing her diaper. Seriously, how low is the bar on fatherhood that just changing a diaper qualifies you for father of the year? I must literally be the World’s Best Mother if he gets that much recognition for one diaper. (Again, though, he is a great father but this has nothing to do with it.)
These pictures right here are why he’s a great father: because he cares about her and teaches her and tries his hardest to make her laugh. Changing a diaper makes him a great father in the same way that showing up for work on time makes you great at your job in that it doesn’t. It’s what you’re supposed to do, no matter how shitty it is (pun absolutely intended).
After lunch we tried to buy some fish at the fish market but apparently it’s only open to buy fish at auction in the morning so we had some beer instead. My mom wasn’t drinking so she snatched Stella up (a pretty common theme on the trip, really) and I got this adorable photo between her fits of squirminess. I just about started crying when I saw how it turned out.
We got home that evening just in time for it to start raining. And for Wes to get a flat tire on his way to the grocery store because the potholes on our side of the island are so bad, especially when it rains. It rained all Sunday so we stayed close to home because on top of the pothoes a lot of the roads have little to no drainage so driving in the pouring ran is something we try to avoid.
(Yes I’m cutting this into parts because I actually like to spend time with my husband after Stella goes to sleep.)