House Number 4

Along the way to our annual trip to Maine we stopped at the zoo. The highlights were feeding the llamas, “boat paddling” as Matt called it, and learning that there was such a bird called The White Belly Go Away Bird.

When unpacking in our new temporary home, “House Number 4”, Matthew declared that this was Buzz Lightyear town. Maine was the amusement park in the center of town. Once settled, we walked down over to the beach. Bob, who had earlier identified himself with the White Belly Go Away Bird, transformed into vacation mode and chased and splashed in the waves with Matt, even though he was only wearing his clothes instead of bathing suit.






The best dinning experience of the trip would have had to been The Clambake. There were seats in the back of the dinner which the windows slid open. On the pavement under those windows were mobs of seagulls waiting for you to drop food through those windows. It was the perfect dinning experience for a three-year-old with unruly restaurant manners.

We spent our nights next to the pier in ‘Maine’. Matthew went on all the kiddie rides a dozen times or so, as we learned our lesson from last year and just bought the wristband instead of tickets this year. He had the unfortunate luck to get seated next to older kids on the teacups. They spun him to the point where he could no longer hold his head up. Bob and I watched in horror as he hit his head on either side of the teacup and then stumbled over when the ride stopped. This has been one of Matthew’s favorite tales to tell from our vacation although his recollection of events includes the Evil Emperor Zurg having something to do with it.

“Where did dad go?” Matthew asked me when we took a break from the rides.
“To get ice cream,” I answer him.
“No!” He frowns at me. “When I say dad you say nothing. Say that!” After a pause he prompts in a friendlier tone, “Where did Woody go?”
I say nothing.
Another frown.
“Jessie? Where did Woody go?”
“To get ice cream?”
“Oh! Thanks Jessie.”

The best kept secret of the trip was the Train Museum in Portland. I had found it online but kept it a surprise for Matthew until we arrived there. The building itself was filled with trains and toys for him to explore. There was a train movie similar to one he has at home playing the entire time. Matthew would have spent the whole day there if we let him but we had a train ride to catch. The train rode along the coast of Casco Bay.

“This train is awesome. It’s going to Maine.” Matthew said during the ride. It was the first time he used the word awesome in a sentence.

The train stopped to let the passengers get out to stretch and take pictures. The engineer offered to allow the kids to take a tour of the cab but when asked Matthew politely declined that only the train conductor could sit there.

When we got back to the train station the skies were starting to cloud over. There had been weather advisory for thunderstorms so we took one last quick look around the train museum and then left to make it to our next destination before the rain started.

Mackworth Island is a flat hiking trail cut in the middle of the woods on cliffs above the ocean. It is also home to fairy houses build by visitors of the island. We set off with the intention of hiking the entire trail but as the sky got darker and it started to thunder we turned around about halfway through. It would be appropriate to say that our plans for the island were derailed.





Unbeknownst to us, there were not just thunderstorm warnings but now tornado warnings too. We stopped at the mall and went to dinner before heading home. On the car radio we heard the warnings and turned the television on to the weather channel as soon as we got inside. Outside the sky grew darker and darker until it was eventually pitch black, despite that there were hours of daylight left in the day. The tornado did not come through to Buzz Lightyear town but we did get pouring rains and severe thunderstorms that night.

The next morning Matthew I woke up early and walked on the beach to look for seashells and crabs. On the way back we take the road back to look for train crossing signs. The Amtrak runs at all hours of the day behind House Number 4, which I imagine would be a low selling point to families without small train obsessed children.

“Look, it’s Santa’s house!” Matthew stops to admire a hotel sign with a picture of King Neptune on it. “Santa lives there!”

Our vacation was also filled with reminders of things I might forget to appreciate during the day to day of our lives. For example the way Matt’s hair curls in the back when he is overdo for a haircut and how Bob learns both the direct and scenic routes to every destination that we visit.

It's Crazy To Be Lazy

At the park Matt was very upset that the concrete mixer truck did not spin like it is supposed to. From the park we went to karate class. There isn’t much to report there except that he spent the first half of class in the parent area discussing the problematic concrete mixer with me. Finally he went to class when he felt I truly understood the nature of concrete mixers.





Wednesday was truck day at our town. The annual event is held in rain or shine. It was drizzling which meant that Matt could wear his favorite fireman suit which doubled as a rain coat and hat. Luckily, standing in the rain to look at trucks, was not as bad as it sounds because we had some friends to stand alongside of us. Matt made the town paper looking very serious in his costume, although really he was all smiles.







On Friday we went blueberry picking. Matthew and I indulged ourselves with blueberry cider donuts baked fresh from the farm kitchen.

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Tales Of Summer

Like the weather Matthew alternates between mild, sunny, cloudy, and boiling hot.

“Would you like a popsicle?” I ask him one ninety degree day, which we are lying around the air conditioned house and reading Laura Numeroff books together.

“Yes please.”

“What color?”

“Dark black.”

“Your options are blue, purple, orange, red, or green.”

“Nothing!”


Before dinner he was up to his elbows in a sandbox project. He couldn’t possibly stop when he had just made bridges out of scrap wood and was now adding the water under the bridges. While Bob prepared a feast of grilled chicken and vegetables, Matthew sang and sculpted happily.

Then the unthinkable happened. I told him it was time to go inside for dinner.

“I’ll wait here.”

“You can either come inside with me and then we can go back outside after dinner. Or if I have to carry you inside there will be no outside play after dinner.”

“Nothing!”

Matthew has far happier moments than not. This summer has been enjoyable as anticipated.

We’ve harvested broccoli, potatoes, and one small tomato so far from our garden. I left Matt in charge of planting a handful of pumpkin seeds and half the seeds wound up in his sandbox and the other half in the garden with his concrete mixer. We’ve been in the habit of picking wildflowers for our table centerpieces and walking outside in our bare feet.






Matthew finally got to meet his summer idol, the Dogfather. Each day we pass a truck called The Dogfather. While Matthew could not get over the good fortune of a truck that sells hotdogs, I always got a good chuckle from the clever signs on the curb. Eat here or we will both starve. Rustic dinning. I’ll make you a hot dog you can’t refuse. We finally made it there for lunch one Saturday morning and our hot dogs were delicious.











During the Fourth of July fireworks Matthew was awe struck. “It’s raining lights!” he exclaimed.