Maintaining a healthy pale glow

The upcoming Memorial Day weekend is considered the unofficial start of summer. And in case you were worried that I wasn’t fully prepared for my first summer – I’m sure it’s been eating away at you – fear not. I’m all set.

Now, considering my parents both have skin types that fall somewhere on the spectrum between “pasty white” and “clear,” I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I’m doomed to a life of pale skin that will burn under any light stronger than a 40-watt bulb. You know that classic English rock song, “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” by Procol Harum? No? Well, anyway, that’s the Rose family in a nutshell. Mom and Dad know this, which is why I never go outside without taking proper precautions – hat, sunscreen, etc.

In the past few weeks, Mom and Dad have kicked it up a notch, stocking up on everything else necessary for me to safely enjoy those 65-degree, overcast Seattle summer days. First, there’s our new pool – an inflatable crab monstrosity that can be connected to a hose, creating a delightful little fountain. And, of course, it features a large sun-blocking canopy. We don’t have any great photos of it, so here’s one from the manufacturer. Horrifying, right?

Then there’s the sun tent, which can be conveniently brought to a back yard or the beach, and big enough to keep the entire Osmond family safe from the sun’s evil rays. It’s the only reason I was allowed outside with nothing but a diaper on:

And finally, there’s my new swimsuit. No fancy bikinis for this girl. This thing not only has long sleeves, but it’s also got a hood. And the hood has bear ears, because why not. The only way I’d have more coverage is if I was wearing a wetsuit. This style is going to be all the rage this season. At least, that’s what Mom keeps trying to convince me.

 At the very least, I look better in it than Dad does.

(By the way, in case you couldn't tell, the surest way to make a fortune in the world today is to develop some fancy new baby product, because every parent on earth will eventually convince themselves that it’s 100 percent necessary.)

We tried all this new gear out when we spent Mother’s Day in Redmond at YaYa and Grandpa’s house, and it was a complete success. Here I am in the pool with my cousin Brooklyn.

So now we know that I’ll be in good hands over the next few days, because tomorrow morning, Mom, Dad and I will be heading east to Lake Chelan for a long holiday weekend with Mom’s family. Can’t wait!

Come fly with me

On Saturday, I took my first-ever trip aboard an airplane when we flew to the Tri-Cities to wish my Grammy a happy belated Mother’s Day.

Mom and Dad were a little nervous, since they had no idea how I’d respond to being in the air (pressurization on the ears and all that fun stuff). Turns out, they had nothing to worry about. They took great care of me inside the plane, and our Saturday and Sunday flights both went off without a hitch. They made sure to feed me during takeoff and landing, so I was busy chewing and swallowing during all the altitude changes.

Dad also chose our flights wisely, picking not only the ones with the fewest people onboard (so we were ensured of having an entire row to ourselves), but also the ones flying at the times of day when I’m typically in the best mood. Overall, a lot of great planning and execution from the Rose parents.

Maybe I’m too young to appreciate it just yet, but being my age for your first airplane trip is nothing to sneeze at. The first time my dad ever set foot on a commercial airplane, he was 18 years old and had just graduated from high school. Me? I was just a few days short of seven months old. Having a dad who works in aviation certainly has its benefits.

So without further ado, here’s a short photo essay of our weekend trip, courtesy of Horizon Air (Shameless plug: Wings of the Great Northwest!™).

We arrived at Sea-Tac at 6:15 a.m., and Dad still didn't think we got there early enough.

Mom tells me he's always like this at airports.

Since I'm under 2 years old, I wasn't required to have my own seat. And with less than 20 people on the flight, there was no need to do so. But Dad was beyond excited for me to get my own boarding pass, and he wasn't going to be stopped.

We're officially airborne, and I'm downing a bottle like it's 2 minutes before last call.
Mom had to pull it away to make sure we had some left for when we landed.

You know, this is pretty cool.

I fell asleep with this outside my window...

...and woke up with this. You have no idea how disorienting this can be to a 7-month-old.

Touchdown in Pasco. Let's do it again!

Hello, Tri-Cities sunshine!

A few photos from Kennewick: First, some quality time with Grammy...

...and with Grandpa.

Mom discovers a fun new way of feeding me.

I’ve got the mother of all mothers

Unless you live under a rock (or under a rock that doesn’t get cable), you knew that Sunday was Mother’s Day. Is this the ultimate example of an over-commercialized Hallmark Holiday? Yeah, probably. But it still holds a lot of importance. According to the always-accurate Wikipedia, “Mother’s Day recognizes mothers, motherhood and maternal bonds in general, as well as the positive contributions that they make to society.”

Put me down as being in favor of all that. Regular readers of this blog know that I’ve made my feelings about my mom pretty clear, but in case you’re new here, I’ll make it quick: I’ve got the best mom in the world. She’s incredible. She took great care of me for the nine months before I popped out, and she’s been topping herself ever since. This is a woman who:

• Never batted an eye when, after I was first born, she had to wake up every two hours to feed and change me, and she let Dad sleep straight through the night.
• Knows every trick for getting me back to sleep when I wake up crying.
• Turns mundane activities like bath time into my favorite things.
• Is always singing English songs and poems that (I’m sure I’ll realize once I get older) are all slightly dirty.
• Sewed me a homemade Santa hat by hand.
• Has called it a night early from outings to put me to bed while Dad stays out with friends.
• Has excellent spoon control.
• Subjected herself to the horrors of the breast pump for far longer than any person should reasonably be expected to.

As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one black mark in her ledger. Even so, that makes for a pretty impressive winning percentage.

Now, obviously, Sunday was Mom’s first Mother’s Day (unless you count last year, when I was still in her belly, but that’s silly), which meant that Dad and I were under a little extra pressure to make it memorable. So on Sunday, Dad paid for a private sailboat excursion that took us out into Elliott Bay, then after a lunch of lobster and filet mignon, he hired a skywriting pilot to spell out “Happy Mother’s Day, Lauren” in huge letters in the sky.

OK, so he didn’t do that. He did, however, make her breakfast in bed while I snuggled with her (after I let them both sleep in until 9 a.m.). We also presented her with the Mother’s Day gift that the two of us had worked on together: a framed photo of me, flanked by my handprint and footprint. Needless to say, she was impressed.

We followed that up with a trip to YaYa and Grandpa’s house for a fun day of frolicking in the sun with my cousins, Jackson and Brooklyn, and some delicious fish tacos (courtesy of my Auntie Amy and Uncle Ben). A good day all around. Although skywriting would’ve been pretty cool, too.

Anyway, Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there! But mostly to mine.