an overnighter
My amazing husband came up with a great idea. We decided to take a little get-away with our boy and see what fun we could have in Duluth and Two Harbors, MN area. We left after I got off work on Thursday and drove straight to the Split Rock Lighthouse. Little man Tate has been a bit fascinated with these because of his favorite book "Pete's Dragon." You see, Elliot, the dragon, blows a great dragon's breath upon the wick of the lamp in the lighthouse to get it relit in order to save the ship in the story. It's adorable that Tate likes it so much, so we thought we'd indulge him with a little trip to see a REAL LIVE lighthouse. Split Rock is gorgeous.
We stayed overnight in the Radisson in Duluth, and it went really well. Tate was so cute in his pac N play in the corner, "Momma, I need two more minutes." He was a bit confused as to why we were all in the dark together in this strange room. It was our first time in a hotel. :) He finally drifted off, and Dan and I watched our respective entertainment choices on our iPads with earphones. Fun times.
The next morning, we woke up and had a fabulous breakfast at Amazing Grace Cafe.
It may have been "odd people of Duluth" weekend I am not sure, but we had three encounters with some strange people in restaurants.
We stopped at Wendy's on the trip up and discovered the car next to us had it's driver side door wide open. Not sure I wanted to mess with someone else's car I shimmied out without touching it. But to get Tate out of the car, I decided I'd just close it. As we were standing in line, an old gentleman walks up and thanks us for "saving his Ford." I'm not sure why his Ford was in jeopardy with the door open, but, "you're welcome."
At the breakfast cafe, another man and his grandson were making a college visit and grumbled about how long the food was taking. The old guy walked up twice to check on it, and threatened to decrease or eliminate his tip if it didn't come soon. We tried not to listen in, but it's very close quarters in this trendy, homemade food joint. Upon leaving he leans in to Dan and I and says, "We're leaving now, I know you've been listening to our conversation, all Minnesotans do!" We all chuckled, I wished them well, and rolled my eyes at Dan as they left. Who does that? Then a fellow adoptive father walks up and says (referring to my darling boy), "She's cute!" "Where is she from?" I decided to use my best positive adoption language to make up where he lacked. I said, "It's a boy, his name is Tate, he was born in Ethiopia." He went on to tell us he's an old man who adopted several children, and has two more waiting from Ghana. He wanted my phone number to give his wife in case she wanted to "compare international experiences" with me. Then he got nervous or something and joked, "hurry up about it, would ya?" Inside I'm shaking my head thinking, "Why am I giving this man my number?" In the end, I decided it was a nice thing to do, and realized I could decide whether or not to answer my phone, when or IF they ever called. It wasn't what he was about, it was his manner that morning. Too strange.
We stopped at Wendy's on the trip up and discovered the car next to us had it's driver side door wide open. Not sure I wanted to mess with someone else's car I shimmied out without touching it. But to get Tate out of the car, I decided I'd just close it. As we were standing in line, an old gentleman walks up and thanks us for "saving his Ford." I'm not sure why his Ford was in jeopardy with the door open, but, "you're welcome."
At the breakfast cafe, another man and his grandson were making a college visit and grumbled about how long the food was taking. The old guy walked up twice to check on it, and threatened to decrease or eliminate his tip if it didn't come soon. We tried not to listen in, but it's very close quarters in this trendy, homemade food joint. Upon leaving he leans in to Dan and I and says, "We're leaving now, I know you've been listening to our conversation, all Minnesotans do!" We all chuckled, I wished them well, and rolled my eyes at Dan as they left. Who does that? Then a fellow adoptive father walks up and says (referring to my darling boy), "She's cute!" "Where is she from?" I decided to use my best positive adoption language to make up where he lacked. I said, "It's a boy, his name is Tate, he was born in Ethiopia." He went on to tell us he's an old man who adopted several children, and has two more waiting from Ghana. He wanted my phone number to give his wife in case she wanted to "compare international experiences" with me. Then he got nervous or something and joked, "hurry up about it, would ya?" Inside I'm shaking my head thinking, "Why am I giving this man my number?" In the end, I decided it was a nice thing to do, and realized I could decide whether or not to answer my phone, when or IF they ever called. It wasn't what he was about, it was his manner that morning. Too strange.
Then after that we took in some sights of one of THE most beautiful cities in MN. Duluth. I'd live there in a heartbeat.
We all jumped in the car after stopping by the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory for an "Apple Pie" caramel apple and hit the road. I snapped this shot going about 70 on Hwy 35W south. It's here friends, fall is here.
After a little while, I turned around in my seat to find this...
A worn out yet satisfied little boy. Here's to many more road trips as a family!
What is it with men and small-child-gender-identification? When Emily was little I once had her out in a pink dress - A PINK DRESS! - and some random guy walked up and started asking me questions about "him." Tate couldn't look more like a boy.
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