I have to start asking you all to vote again -- I know that I am a slacker who is on vacation and haven't been posting regularly, but I keep slipping on the Top Mommy Blog website. I have already told you all how obsessed I am with this rather pointless rating website, so please just take your mouse and click on that brown button to your right that says "Vote for Me on Top Mommy Blogs" so I'll shut up about it.
Today I am biding time. I have written a fairly long post, but I am waiting on permission to post it since it isn't my story to tell, really. The person that it involves has not gotten back to me to let me know that it is okay to tell it, so I am waiting. You all know how I hate to step on any one's toes. (There is a great need for a sarcasm font. I think a lot of what I say is often misinterpreted.) So the question is, what do I talk about in the meantime? In that post (that I do not have permission to talk about yet) I said that "it is hard to make an entire post out of "my mother-in-law gave my kids ice cream at 11:30" or "Jackson peed on my mother's leather couch" but I think that is what I am about to do....
Since we have been here in Alabama, my kids have caused much less destruction than they do at my house. They still drop their clothes wherever they want when I say "Bath time!" and they are not good about picking up after themselves. But I think that, like me, they are a little fearful of my mother, and respect her stuff much more than mine and even their own at our house. As you may have deduced from the above paragraph, Jackson peed on my mother's leather couch. It wasn't malicious. My mother did not realize that he wears underwear most of the time, and therefore (wrongly) assumed that it would be okay to let him take a nap on her couch. He peed on it. She was (understandably) aggravated, but I Googled and found out "how to remove urine from a leather couch" and found a solution that worked on eHow. It amazes me how straightened up my mom's house is and I have discovered the reason -- she does not have a bounty of toys and crap that would rival a Toys R' Us. I am now more determined than ever to par down my kid's possessions. I think I will go to The Container Store and get them each ONE plastic bin in their favorite colors and tell them that they can only keep what they can fit into it. Everything else is GOING AWAY.
My mother and my mother-in-law are both wonderful women, but you could not get 2 more different grandparents if you tried. My mom has rules (shoes go on the hearth, used washcloths are to be rung out and hung on the side of the tub and not wadded up soaking wet on the floor, etc.) and my mother-in-law has the philosophy that as a grandmother she is to do whatever my crazy kids want her to do. Once, when I was pregnant with Bella, I came home from the store to find her sitting in the under-the-bed storage box I had bought. I asked her what she was doing and she giggled and said "William told me to get in the box, so I got in the box!" Like it was the most natural thing in the world to take orders from an 18 month old. When we stay at her house, my kids rarely go to sleep before 1 in the morning. Part of the reason is that we will eat lunch around 3:30, dinner around 8:00, and have ice cream at 11:30. Then we all sleep until 10:00 and have breakfast around 10:30 or 11:00. She is accommodating and bends over backwards to make my kids happy and give me as much "me" time as possible while I am here.
I go back and forth between their houses to try to give them equal time but also because their differences are so extreme. I eventually tire of the rules at my mom's house and the chaos at my mother-in-law's house, so I bounce back and forth like a virtual ping-pong ball. It is a little stressful for me since I happen to be a perfect blend of the 2 of them. Because I am awesome. (BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!)
This is me...
I'm having a mom moment....
Friday, July 8, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Trail Mix
Anyone who reads my blog on a regular basis already knows that I am not very much like my mother and yet I love and admire her. They say that imitation is the best form of flattery, but in my world, if I poke fun at you, it means that I am in awe of you. So to honor my mom today, I will dedicate this post to her. It is an account of our trip to the mountains, with a little fun poked at our differences along the way....
When we went to North Carolina with my mom, I knew that it would be a challenge -- for both of us. She is structured, I am not. She plans meticulously and I sort of wing it. It has been a while since she has dealt with little kids on a daily basis and I have 4. So although I was excited about the trip, I was apprehensive about whether or not we could make it 4 days without an argument. I was convinced that there would be trouble from the moment that my mother informed me that she wanted to pull out Tuesday morning by 7:00am, stop for breakfast around 9:00 at a specific Cracker Barrel in Tennessee, be to Roan Mountain by 2:00 our time, to the hotel by 4:00 our time to check in and make it to dinner and to see Horn of the West (a Revolutionary War drama about Daniel Boone) by 7:00. Whoa. That was a lot of deadlines to meet. We made the first one -- on the road by 7:00 (or at least within 15 minutes of it) and got to the Cracker Barrel in Tennessee before 9:30. Then the fun began. We sit and they bring menus and take drink orders and it went something like this:
Me: "William, what do you want to drink?"
William: "Can I have Coke?"
Me: "No."
William: "Can I have sweet tea?"
Me: "No, not for breakfast. You can have apple juice, orange juice, milk, or chocolate milk."
William: "Can I have hot chocolate?"
Me: "No. You can have apple juice, orange juice, milk, or chocolate milk."
William: "I'll have orange juice."
Me: "Bella, what do you want to drink?"
Bella: "Can I have Coke?...."
You get the idea. So we ordered the drinks, and then set about having the same type of conversation with all 4 kids about what they wanted for breakfast. About the time I figured out what the 4 of them wanted to eat and I was ready to look at the menu to see what I wanted, the waitress shows up to take our order. My husband and my mother, of course, have spent all of this time figuring out what they wanted and I haven't looked at the menu yet. I order for the kids and my mother and husband order and then it is my turn. So I stall to give myself time to read more than the first choice or 2 and I see my mother roll her eyes because I am taking too long. Finally, after we eat and take 4 kids to the bathroom and peel them away from the toys and candy in the store part, it's time to hit the road. I walk out with the 2 youngest to find that my mother already has the 2 oldest in her car, strapped in and engine idling. As soon as she sees me, she assumes it is safe to leave since we will obviously be right behind her. She has zero understanding of what it takes to get a 2 and 4 year old strapped into the car, put on their movie, get them their stuffed animals and toys to keep them happy for the next 200 miles and get myself in the car. So by the time I get all of that taken care of, she has left us....and we have no idea where we are going. I call her cell phone and figure out where we are headed and take off. I also called my dad at work to tell him that mom was already driving me nuts with the whole rush, rush, rush routine. (I found out later that right before I called him, my mother had called him to complain about how slow I was ordering -- she didn't realize that I ordered very fast since I spent all of my time determining what to order for the kids. This became a constant theme, by the way, every time we ate out.)
We get to Roan Mountain and to the visitor's center at its base, about on time, despite the fact that we had to stop several times for the little ones to pee with my mom growing more and more impatient every time and trying to leave us every time. About the time that we get there, it starts raining. Not a gentle mountain rain, but a full-out downpour. We decide NOT to go up the mountain today to see the flowers, but we do sit and watch the rain and have a snack -- or lunch to my mother -- of trail mix and a soda and chips for the kids. When the rain lets up, we head to our hotel which is about 30-35 minutes away in North Carolina. We get there, check in, get all of our stuff inside and head out to eat dinner. Our first choice for dinner has too long of a wait, so we head into Boone to find somewhere else and settle on a bar-be-que place called "Bandanna's." Repeat scene from breakfast, but this time my mother says "Come on now, its just drinks! It isn't hard!" Indicating that this is taking too long. I look at her and calmly say "Yes, but it is drinks for 4 kids under 10, who will fuss and complain if they do not get what they want to drink. We do this all the time, let us handle it." And we do. After the waitress leaves, my mother says "All of that is unnecessary. Your sister just orders Sprite for her kids and is done with it." Wow. I hadn't expected the comparisons to my sister to start so soon, nor had I expected them in this department. My sister sometimes forgets that her kids haven't had lunch if they don't ask her for it, she and I are very different mothers. I chose not to respond to that remark. When we ordered the food, I knew what my 9 year old had ordered was not going to be enough for him. He can out eat me and he had opted to split a rib plate with his sister. So after he inhaled his 3 ribs, I gave him half of my food to try and keep him from getting hungry. My mother, of course, said "Why didn't he get his own rib plate then?" I told her as tactfully as I knew how, that it was because William understands that SHE is paying for this trip, and the rib plate was $9.99 and NOT on the kid menu. He was trying to save her money. She didn't say anything back.
We proceeded to the show. It really is a wonderful drama and I suggest that if you are in or around Boone, North Carolina that you go and see it. It is an outdoor drama about Daniel Boone and a group of settlers during the beginnings of the Revolutionary War. They fire muskets and cannons, have fight scenes, and a hanging, but there is also a lot of dialog, dancing, and political rhetoric that went right over my kids' heads. The 2 year old LOVED the battle scenes, but during the long dialog he kept saying, "When are they gonna shoot each other already?" Bella was frightened by the gunshots, and I think the only kid who really knew what was going on was William. Honestly, I really enjoyed it, but it was beyond my kids' grasp. But Grandmother wanted to take them to see it and so we went. The tickets were NOT cheap -- just one more example of how my mom and I are different. I never would have spent that kind of money on a play that the kids wouldn't get.
After the play, we headed back to our hotel to go to bed because our next day was to start early. My husband and I got the little ones to bed and the older ones were with my mom in her room. We knew that my mom's plan for the next day was to eat breakfast in our rooms and then head back to Roan Mountain to see the Rhododendrons, so we all went to sleep before midnight. When we got up the next morning, I went down to my mom's room to get breakfast for me and the husband. Mom had brought individual cereal packets and had stopped and bought 2 small containers of milk. Unfortunately, she had not counted on my 2 oldest drinking most of that milk themselves, so there was only enough milk for one small bowl of cereal. Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but when I eat cereal, I do not eat 1/4 cup. I generally fill my bowl. So does my husband. So when mom said that there was enough milk for one bowl of cereal, that immediately meant to me that he and I would need to find something else to eat. The hotel had a restaurant and they had a breakfast special for $5.99 that included 2 eggs, bacon, biscuit, potatoes, and coffee. We decided that we would go have that. My mother disapproved. It was an unnecessary expenditure in her opinion. To me, it was insurance against a bad morning. If I want my husband to be in a pissy mood I underfeed him. Giving him a 1/4 of a cup of cereal and telling him that is it until later when we might have some chips and trail mix would have been a very bad start to the day. So we had our $12 breakfast and set out for Roan Mountain with full, happy bellies. (Part of it was that this breakfast out did not fit into my mother's schedule, but luckily the breakfast was fast and did not put us too far behind schedule.)
Up on Roan Mountain, my oldest had a meltdown that I have already covered in a previous post about the bees. Once I got him calmed down and we left the flower gardens, we took a short hike up a different section of the mountain. It was beautiful. Everything was so green -- a big difference from Texas. And cool. We hiked about 30 minutes with all 4 kids and then my mother and I took the 2 youngest and headed back down so that the husband could take the older 2 up the rest of the way. At one point, Jackson just sat down in the middle of the path and decided that he wasn't going any further. He's almost 3 and this hike was a little rough on him. So I carried him. This slowed us down to the point that all 7 of us reached the bottom at roughly the same time. By this point, we had been on the mountain for about 2 1/2 hours. SO naturally, the younger ones needed to stop to use the bathroom. Unfortunately, my mother took off down the mountain, leaving us in her dust and the cell phones had no signal. We took off after her, with the husband driving and me staring at my phone waiting for at least one bar to appear so I could call her to let her know that we needed to stop. When I finally got her and let her know that we needed to stop, she said "Why didn't you just stop at the visitor's center?!" I politely pointed out (again) that she was ahead of us and that we had no idea where we were going. After we got that all taken care of, we headed to "Tweetsie Railroad."
"Tweetsie Railroad" is an ammusement park. They have rides, shops, and a train. We got there about 3:00 and they close at 6:00, so our tickets (which were VERY expensive) were good for the next day as well. We rode the chair lift, let the kids ride a few rides, the older ones did a little gem mining that netted a bag full of glorified rocks, and we rode the train. After the husband saw how much my mom paid for the tickets, he declared that we WOULD come back tomorrow to be sure that we got our money's worth. The kids loved that idea, but I could see my mom calculating her schedule in her head....she was quick to say "If we have time." Now, we hadn't eaten since breakfast at this point and I mention to mom that we are getting hungry. She informs me that she has eaten some trail mix in the car and that she had planned on waiting to eat until dinner. I was sure to remind her that WE had not had any trail mix and that we were hungry. So she gave us some trail mix....
For dinner that night, we just picked up some Subway sandwiches and ate them in the room and we awoke the next morning to rain. In an attempt to kill a little time to see if the rain would blow over, we went into Banner Elk and had breakfast at a small cafe. The kids were all cold so they ordered hot chocolate. Now, maybe its just because I am a mom, but when a KID orders a cup of hot chocolate, common sense would tell me that perhaps I should inform the parents that the hot chocolates cost $5 each and come in a cup that is about the size of a small mixing bowl, but our server did not apparently think that this would be a problem and so my kids had enough hot chocolate to swim in and therefore only ate about half of thir food. When breakfast was over, the rain had not stopped, but it had worsened. SO we decided to go to a historic General store called "The Mast General Store" and look around before heading on to Blowing Rock and Grandfather Mountain. Well, the kids loved it. THey wanted to buy EVERYTHING and William and Bella kept bringing me stuff and saying things like "Look! It's ONLY $12...." Jackson and Lorelei just thought that the stuff was free so we had to keep making them put things back -- like the $40 velour top hat the Lorelei REALLY wanted. After about an hour or so at the store, my mother called Blowing Rock and Grandfather Mountain to check on weather conditions and we headed out -- Blowing Rock first, then back to Tweetsie, and finally Grandfather Mountian.
My husband is not necessarily afraid of heights, but he DOES have a healthy respect for them and when you involve small children who run around like ours do he can get pretty freaked out. Blowing Rock freaked him out a little. Huge drop offs onto rocks, decks with widely spaced railings, overlooks with no railings at all -- he wanted to have hold of the little ones' hands at all times. My mother wanted him to relax and let the kids run around and have fun, but all he could picture was one of our daredevil children taking a header off of a cliff. My mother said privately to me that if this was bothering him, he was going to flip out at Grandfather Mountain. She was almost right. After going back to Tweetsie long enough to ride a few rides and have the picture made that I refered to in a previous post, we went to Grandfather Mountain. We wound round and round the mountain on our way to the summit. About 2/3 of the way up, we start seeing signs for the "Swinging Bridge." This, prompts my husband to begin his protests that he WILL NOT take our kids out on a swinging bridge across a chasm of death. I am laughing on the inside but keeping a very solemn outward appearance. I have a healthy respect for heights -- I have no desire to dangle my feet over the edge of a cliff, but I also know that there is no way they would allow people on a bridge of any kind that wasn't safe because they would be sued. When we reach the top, the views are brethtaking. The wind is strong and it is pushing the clouds through the gorge below us. We get to the "Swinging Bridge" to discover that it isn't really a swinging bridge at all. It is a suspension bridge, and it does move a little in the strong winds, but it is not the death trap that my husband was envisioning. We go across, take a picture, and cross back. Then, we head back down the mountain a little ways to the nature center to see if we can see the animals in their "natural" (caged) habitats. We are in luck -- we see bear, mountain lion, otter, and deer, after which Jackson looks at us and says "Now let's go see the DINOSAURS!!" We had to explain that this particular nature center did not, unfortunately, have any dinosaurs. After a brief stop at the snack bar where everyone shares some fries (my mom's idea of lunch) we let the kids browse through the gift shop.
One thing you should know if you ever go to the mountains with kids is that every gift store you will ever enter sells polished rocks. We do NOT buy polished rocks because I have no desire to pay $5.99 for something that I will vacuum up next month. So after being told that they could not have rocks, I was shocked to discover after we left that Lorelei had pocketed a rock. I immediately made her go back into the store and give the rock to the clerk and apologize for stealing. She was upset, and the clerk (who was probably about 17) said "That's okay, everyone takes those rocks." WHAT? Why would you say that??! I am obviously trying to teach my kid an important lesson here: stealing is wrong and has consequences. So why would you tell her "Oh, that's okay, everyone does it."?? If everyone does it then why doesn't the sign say "Polished Rocks: $5.99 per bag -- individual rocks FREE"?? Now that this 17 year old clerk has undermined the seriousness of stealing to my 4 year old, we get ready to head back to the hotel. My mother had planned to send us out to eat at a fancy resturant while she and the kids ate pizza at the hotel. (There will be an entirely different post on that later -- it was awesome).
We had, luckily, brought our GPS with us, so being left by my mother was becoming less of a problem. We simply entered the hotel address and followed that instead of following my mom. When we got back to the hotel, my mother handed me her room key and asked me to put her stuff in the room while she went to get the pizza. No big deal. Except that when I went to go get into her room, the security lock had somehow been flipped on the inside and I could not get in. She was gone for about 20 minutes and it took me that entire time to break into her room -- and I ruined her key card in the process. We got the kids eating, and got ready to go out to eat. Our plan was to return to Alabama the following morning.
The next morning, I awoke and immediately began packing up our stuff so that we could hit the road as soon as my mom was ready to go. She had decided that it would be fun to stop at this Trout Farm and let the kids fish. Since the cooler was almost empty, we could take our catch back with us. So we did. We got the hooks baited and the lines cast, and the 2 little ones caught a fish on their first casts. Then we let the 2 older ones each catch a fish and mom decided that the 2 older ones could catch another one. Jackson, couldn't care less -- he'd caught a fish and he was having fun just walking around looking at everything. But Lorelei wanted to catch another fish. She sat down on a rock and began to wail and moan. Mom didn't know what to do. We had to pay for the fish that we caught AND take them with us. But she eventually let Lorelei catch another fish and she was happy. And we ended up with about 13 pounds of trout....
After that, we headed home, each at our own pace since we had the GPS and mom was leaving us everytime we stopped anyway. We all had a very good time, and we are all very thankful to my mom for taking us on this trip. But our differences were glaring. Her rush, rush, rush attitude was a source of both giggles and extreme annoyance with me and my husband. We joked that we weren't sure she'd really wanted us on this trip because she kept trying to lose us or starve us. Had I been in charge, we probably would have slept until 9:00 at least every day, eaten out more, and done a whole lot less. Luckily, I wasn't in charge because she had it planned to make the most of our time and our money. My mother is an amazing woman and I admire her. I may not be very much like her, but I admire her. I've also started to really like trail mix....
When we went to North Carolina with my mom, I knew that it would be a challenge -- for both of us. She is structured, I am not. She plans meticulously and I sort of wing it. It has been a while since she has dealt with little kids on a daily basis and I have 4. So although I was excited about the trip, I was apprehensive about whether or not we could make it 4 days without an argument. I was convinced that there would be trouble from the moment that my mother informed me that she wanted to pull out Tuesday morning by 7:00am, stop for breakfast around 9:00 at a specific Cracker Barrel in Tennessee, be to Roan Mountain by 2:00 our time, to the hotel by 4:00 our time to check in and make it to dinner and to see Horn of the West (a Revolutionary War drama about Daniel Boone) by 7:00. Whoa. That was a lot of deadlines to meet. We made the first one -- on the road by 7:00 (or at least within 15 minutes of it) and got to the Cracker Barrel in Tennessee before 9:30. Then the fun began. We sit and they bring menus and take drink orders and it went something like this:
Me: "William, what do you want to drink?"
William: "Can I have Coke?"
Me: "No."
William: "Can I have sweet tea?"
Me: "No, not for breakfast. You can have apple juice, orange juice, milk, or chocolate milk."
William: "Can I have hot chocolate?"
Me: "No. You can have apple juice, orange juice, milk, or chocolate milk."
William: "I'll have orange juice."
Me: "Bella, what do you want to drink?"
Bella: "Can I have Coke?...."
You get the idea. So we ordered the drinks, and then set about having the same type of conversation with all 4 kids about what they wanted for breakfast. About the time I figured out what the 4 of them wanted to eat and I was ready to look at the menu to see what I wanted, the waitress shows up to take our order. My husband and my mother, of course, have spent all of this time figuring out what they wanted and I haven't looked at the menu yet. I order for the kids and my mother and husband order and then it is my turn. So I stall to give myself time to read more than the first choice or 2 and I see my mother roll her eyes because I am taking too long. Finally, after we eat and take 4 kids to the bathroom and peel them away from the toys and candy in the store part, it's time to hit the road. I walk out with the 2 youngest to find that my mother already has the 2 oldest in her car, strapped in and engine idling. As soon as she sees me, she assumes it is safe to leave since we will obviously be right behind her. She has zero understanding of what it takes to get a 2 and 4 year old strapped into the car, put on their movie, get them their stuffed animals and toys to keep them happy for the next 200 miles and get myself in the car. So by the time I get all of that taken care of, she has left us....and we have no idea where we are going. I call her cell phone and figure out where we are headed and take off. I also called my dad at work to tell him that mom was already driving me nuts with the whole rush, rush, rush routine. (I found out later that right before I called him, my mother had called him to complain about how slow I was ordering -- she didn't realize that I ordered very fast since I spent all of my time determining what to order for the kids. This became a constant theme, by the way, every time we ate out.)
We get to Roan Mountain and to the visitor's center at its base, about on time, despite the fact that we had to stop several times for the little ones to pee with my mom growing more and more impatient every time and trying to leave us every time. About the time that we get there, it starts raining. Not a gentle mountain rain, but a full-out downpour. We decide NOT to go up the mountain today to see the flowers, but we do sit and watch the rain and have a snack -- or lunch to my mother -- of trail mix and a soda and chips for the kids. When the rain lets up, we head to our hotel which is about 30-35 minutes away in North Carolina. We get there, check in, get all of our stuff inside and head out to eat dinner. Our first choice for dinner has too long of a wait, so we head into Boone to find somewhere else and settle on a bar-be-que place called "Bandanna's." Repeat scene from breakfast, but this time my mother says "Come on now, its just drinks! It isn't hard!" Indicating that this is taking too long. I look at her and calmly say "Yes, but it is drinks for 4 kids under 10, who will fuss and complain if they do not get what they want to drink. We do this all the time, let us handle it." And we do. After the waitress leaves, my mother says "All of that is unnecessary. Your sister just orders Sprite for her kids and is done with it." Wow. I hadn't expected the comparisons to my sister to start so soon, nor had I expected them in this department. My sister sometimes forgets that her kids haven't had lunch if they don't ask her for it, she and I are very different mothers. I chose not to respond to that remark. When we ordered the food, I knew what my 9 year old had ordered was not going to be enough for him. He can out eat me and he had opted to split a rib plate with his sister. So after he inhaled his 3 ribs, I gave him half of my food to try and keep him from getting hungry. My mother, of course, said "Why didn't he get his own rib plate then?" I told her as tactfully as I knew how, that it was because William understands that SHE is paying for this trip, and the rib plate was $9.99 and NOT on the kid menu. He was trying to save her money. She didn't say anything back.
We proceeded to the show. It really is a wonderful drama and I suggest that if you are in or around Boone, North Carolina that you go and see it. It is an outdoor drama about Daniel Boone and a group of settlers during the beginnings of the Revolutionary War. They fire muskets and cannons, have fight scenes, and a hanging, but there is also a lot of dialog, dancing, and political rhetoric that went right over my kids' heads. The 2 year old LOVED the battle scenes, but during the long dialog he kept saying, "When are they gonna shoot each other already?" Bella was frightened by the gunshots, and I think the only kid who really knew what was going on was William. Honestly, I really enjoyed it, but it was beyond my kids' grasp. But Grandmother wanted to take them to see it and so we went. The tickets were NOT cheap -- just one more example of how my mom and I are different. I never would have spent that kind of money on a play that the kids wouldn't get.
After the play, we headed back to our hotel to go to bed because our next day was to start early. My husband and I got the little ones to bed and the older ones were with my mom in her room. We knew that my mom's plan for the next day was to eat breakfast in our rooms and then head back to Roan Mountain to see the Rhododendrons, so we all went to sleep before midnight. When we got up the next morning, I went down to my mom's room to get breakfast for me and the husband. Mom had brought individual cereal packets and had stopped and bought 2 small containers of milk. Unfortunately, she had not counted on my 2 oldest drinking most of that milk themselves, so there was only enough milk for one small bowl of cereal. Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but when I eat cereal, I do not eat 1/4 cup. I generally fill my bowl. So does my husband. So when mom said that there was enough milk for one bowl of cereal, that immediately meant to me that he and I would need to find something else to eat. The hotel had a restaurant and they had a breakfast special for $5.99 that included 2 eggs, bacon, biscuit, potatoes, and coffee. We decided that we would go have that. My mother disapproved. It was an unnecessary expenditure in her opinion. To me, it was insurance against a bad morning. If I want my husband to be in a pissy mood I underfeed him. Giving him a 1/4 of a cup of cereal and telling him that is it until later when we might have some chips and trail mix would have been a very bad start to the day. So we had our $12 breakfast and set out for Roan Mountain with full, happy bellies. (Part of it was that this breakfast out did not fit into my mother's schedule, but luckily the breakfast was fast and did not put us too far behind schedule.)
Up on Roan Mountain, my oldest had a meltdown that I have already covered in a previous post about the bees. Once I got him calmed down and we left the flower gardens, we took a short hike up a different section of the mountain. It was beautiful. Everything was so green -- a big difference from Texas. And cool. We hiked about 30 minutes with all 4 kids and then my mother and I took the 2 youngest and headed back down so that the husband could take the older 2 up the rest of the way. At one point, Jackson just sat down in the middle of the path and decided that he wasn't going any further. He's almost 3 and this hike was a little rough on him. So I carried him. This slowed us down to the point that all 7 of us reached the bottom at roughly the same time. By this point, we had been on the mountain for about 2 1/2 hours. SO naturally, the younger ones needed to stop to use the bathroom. Unfortunately, my mother took off down the mountain, leaving us in her dust and the cell phones had no signal. We took off after her, with the husband driving and me staring at my phone waiting for at least one bar to appear so I could call her to let her know that we needed to stop. When I finally got her and let her know that we needed to stop, she said "Why didn't you just stop at the visitor's center?!" I politely pointed out (again) that she was ahead of us and that we had no idea where we were going. After we got that all taken care of, we headed to "Tweetsie Railroad."
"Tweetsie Railroad" is an ammusement park. They have rides, shops, and a train. We got there about 3:00 and they close at 6:00, so our tickets (which were VERY expensive) were good for the next day as well. We rode the chair lift, let the kids ride a few rides, the older ones did a little gem mining that netted a bag full of glorified rocks, and we rode the train. After the husband saw how much my mom paid for the tickets, he declared that we WOULD come back tomorrow to be sure that we got our money's worth. The kids loved that idea, but I could see my mom calculating her schedule in her head....she was quick to say "If we have time." Now, we hadn't eaten since breakfast at this point and I mention to mom that we are getting hungry. She informs me that she has eaten some trail mix in the car and that she had planned on waiting to eat until dinner. I was sure to remind her that WE had not had any trail mix and that we were hungry. So she gave us some trail mix....
For dinner that night, we just picked up some Subway sandwiches and ate them in the room and we awoke the next morning to rain. In an attempt to kill a little time to see if the rain would blow over, we went into Banner Elk and had breakfast at a small cafe. The kids were all cold so they ordered hot chocolate. Now, maybe its just because I am a mom, but when a KID orders a cup of hot chocolate, common sense would tell me that perhaps I should inform the parents that the hot chocolates cost $5 each and come in a cup that is about the size of a small mixing bowl, but our server did not apparently think that this would be a problem and so my kids had enough hot chocolate to swim in and therefore only ate about half of thir food. When breakfast was over, the rain had not stopped, but it had worsened. SO we decided to go to a historic General store called "The Mast General Store" and look around before heading on to Blowing Rock and Grandfather Mountain. Well, the kids loved it. THey wanted to buy EVERYTHING and William and Bella kept bringing me stuff and saying things like "Look! It's ONLY $12...." Jackson and Lorelei just thought that the stuff was free so we had to keep making them put things back -- like the $40 velour top hat the Lorelei REALLY wanted. After about an hour or so at the store, my mother called Blowing Rock and Grandfather Mountain to check on weather conditions and we headed out -- Blowing Rock first, then back to Tweetsie, and finally Grandfather Mountian.
My husband is not necessarily afraid of heights, but he DOES have a healthy respect for them and when you involve small children who run around like ours do he can get pretty freaked out. Blowing Rock freaked him out a little. Huge drop offs onto rocks, decks with widely spaced railings, overlooks with no railings at all -- he wanted to have hold of the little ones' hands at all times. My mother wanted him to relax and let the kids run around and have fun, but all he could picture was one of our daredevil children taking a header off of a cliff. My mother said privately to me that if this was bothering him, he was going to flip out at Grandfather Mountain. She was almost right. After going back to Tweetsie long enough to ride a few rides and have the picture made that I refered to in a previous post, we went to Grandfather Mountain. We wound round and round the mountain on our way to the summit. About 2/3 of the way up, we start seeing signs for the "Swinging Bridge." This, prompts my husband to begin his protests that he WILL NOT take our kids out on a swinging bridge across a chasm of death. I am laughing on the inside but keeping a very solemn outward appearance. I have a healthy respect for heights -- I have no desire to dangle my feet over the edge of a cliff, but I also know that there is no way they would allow people on a bridge of any kind that wasn't safe because they would be sued. When we reach the top, the views are brethtaking. The wind is strong and it is pushing the clouds through the gorge below us. We get to the "Swinging Bridge" to discover that it isn't really a swinging bridge at all. It is a suspension bridge, and it does move a little in the strong winds, but it is not the death trap that my husband was envisioning. We go across, take a picture, and cross back. Then, we head back down the mountain a little ways to the nature center to see if we can see the animals in their "natural" (caged) habitats. We are in luck -- we see bear, mountain lion, otter, and deer, after which Jackson looks at us and says "Now let's go see the DINOSAURS!!" We had to explain that this particular nature center did not, unfortunately, have any dinosaurs. After a brief stop at the snack bar where everyone shares some fries (my mom's idea of lunch) we let the kids browse through the gift shop.
One thing you should know if you ever go to the mountains with kids is that every gift store you will ever enter sells polished rocks. We do NOT buy polished rocks because I have no desire to pay $5.99 for something that I will vacuum up next month. So after being told that they could not have rocks, I was shocked to discover after we left that Lorelei had pocketed a rock. I immediately made her go back into the store and give the rock to the clerk and apologize for stealing. She was upset, and the clerk (who was probably about 17) said "That's okay, everyone takes those rocks." WHAT? Why would you say that??! I am obviously trying to teach my kid an important lesson here: stealing is wrong and has consequences. So why would you tell her "Oh, that's okay, everyone does it."?? If everyone does it then why doesn't the sign say "Polished Rocks: $5.99 per bag -- individual rocks FREE"?? Now that this 17 year old clerk has undermined the seriousness of stealing to my 4 year old, we get ready to head back to the hotel. My mother had planned to send us out to eat at a fancy resturant while she and the kids ate pizza at the hotel. (There will be an entirely different post on that later -- it was awesome).
We had, luckily, brought our GPS with us, so being left by my mother was becoming less of a problem. We simply entered the hotel address and followed that instead of following my mom. When we got back to the hotel, my mother handed me her room key and asked me to put her stuff in the room while she went to get the pizza. No big deal. Except that when I went to go get into her room, the security lock had somehow been flipped on the inside and I could not get in. She was gone for about 20 minutes and it took me that entire time to break into her room -- and I ruined her key card in the process. We got the kids eating, and got ready to go out to eat. Our plan was to return to Alabama the following morning.
The next morning, I awoke and immediately began packing up our stuff so that we could hit the road as soon as my mom was ready to go. She had decided that it would be fun to stop at this Trout Farm and let the kids fish. Since the cooler was almost empty, we could take our catch back with us. So we did. We got the hooks baited and the lines cast, and the 2 little ones caught a fish on their first casts. Then we let the 2 older ones each catch a fish and mom decided that the 2 older ones could catch another one. Jackson, couldn't care less -- he'd caught a fish and he was having fun just walking around looking at everything. But Lorelei wanted to catch another fish. She sat down on a rock and began to wail and moan. Mom didn't know what to do. We had to pay for the fish that we caught AND take them with us. But she eventually let Lorelei catch another fish and she was happy. And we ended up with about 13 pounds of trout....
After that, we headed home, each at our own pace since we had the GPS and mom was leaving us everytime we stopped anyway. We all had a very good time, and we are all very thankful to my mom for taking us on this trip. But our differences were glaring. Her rush, rush, rush attitude was a source of both giggles and extreme annoyance with me and my husband. We joked that we weren't sure she'd really wanted us on this trip because she kept trying to lose us or starve us. Had I been in charge, we probably would have slept until 9:00 at least every day, eaten out more, and done a whole lot less. Luckily, I wasn't in charge because she had it planned to make the most of our time and our money. My mother is an amazing woman and I admire her. I may not be very much like her, but I admire her. I've also started to really like trail mix....
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Mom, Mama, Mommy, Momma, MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
So just for kicks yesterday, I kept a running tally of how many times my kids said "Mom" or any form of that word (Mom, Mama, Momma, Mommy, etc.) I got up to 978 before I quit counting. I love my kids. I really do, but HOLY CRAP, SERIOUSLY???! I mean, I have said a million times "If I had a dollar for every time I hear 'Mama' in a day, I could write full time and hire a nanny." I always thought that was a joke, but I could hire a damn good nanny for half of that per day. What really sucks is that very few of the things that were preceded by "Mama" were necessary. Just a few examples include:
"Mom, where's my other shoe?"
"Mom, I need a band-aid."
"Mama, can we go to the Baby Store and get another baby?"
"Mama, I'm mad at you!'
"Mooooooom! William sat on my head!"
"Mama, William is telling everyone bad things about me and now they are all being mean to me."
"Mama, can I take flying lessons? Like a bird, or a bee, or a super hero without a cape?"
"Mama, what's for lunch?"
"Mama, can we go back to Texas on this day?"
"Mom, why doesn't Daddy just get a job in Alabama?"
"Mama, what's for dinner?"
"Mom, do I have to eat ALL the chicken?"
"Mom, I just threw up again."
"Mama, Lorelei scratched me"
"Mama, Jackson scratched me."
"Mama, I got a big giant booger! Wanna see it?"
"Mama, when do I get boobs?"
"Maaaaaaa-maaaaaaaa! I neeeeeeeed you to wipe my buuuuuuuuutt!"
"Mom? Mama? Mom? Mom? Mama? Hey Mama, I'm trying to ask you something...."
However, if you're a mom, then you know that this is absolutely normal and you are probably wondering what the heck I'm complaining about. You're right, of course. The only time I hear it less is when they are in school. (Sigh) So enough about that.....I'll share a few stories from our mountain trip instead.
When we were in the mountains last week, the weather was wonderful. It was in the low 60's in the mornings and up on the mountain tops and I loved it since the day I left Arlington it was 105. But my kids were cold. We only brought 1 pair of jeans each since it is Summer, and they had already worn them twice. The last day that we were there, we went to breakfast and Lorelei kept saying something that we were having trouble understanding. Finally, it clicked: "Mama, I want my pants to be long-sleeved." When we went to Roan Mountain, she saw an old man sitting on the porch of the visitor's center where we stopped to use the bathroom. She walked by him, raised her hand in a half wave and said casually "Hey Pa" because she thought it was my dad. My dad didn't come with us. While we were up there in North Carolina, we went to this amusement park called "Tweetsie Railroad." It was extremely overpriced, but the kids had a blast. They got to ride on the rides. We thought that Jackson was going to be too short for the "Tilt-A-Whirl" type ride, but when we saw by how much Lorelei cleared the red line, we decided to check. His head juuuuuuuust cleared the red line -- barely. He did a little happy dance. When we were waiting our turn, the ride operator came over and said "Hey folks, just a few quick rules...." and Jackson was interrupting him saying "I'm tall enough!! Hey, I'm tall enough. Guess what? I'm tall enough." Then after the ride was over, where he laughed so hard that his whole head turned red, and I laughed at him having such a great time that my belly hurt, the ride stopped and he started saying all over again "I was tall enough!" I had to sweet talk to get Bella on a ride called "The Tornado" because she was about an inch too short. She helped by standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks, lip quivering, as I begged the operator to let her on it. Eventually, once I agreed to ride with her, he caved. It was staggering how quickly she recovered once she got her way....
We also had one of those old-timey pictures done. I will have to see if I can scan it in or take a good enough picture of it to post it here, even though I look horrible. I wanted to all dress like cowboys and cowgirls, but Bella wanted to be a saloon girl and she wanted me to be one too. While my 7 year old can totally rock a saloon-girl/hooker outfit, my best hooking days are obviously beyond me. I should have been a cowgirl like I wanted. I was hot and pouring sweat, so I was shiny in the photo, not to mention that the photographer told us to smile, and I was the only one who did, so I look ridiculous with the rest of my stoic family -- like the fat, old, drunk, hooker at the party. It really is pathetic, but Jackson was the cutest thing ever in his little cowboy get up, Lorelei made an awesome little cowgirl, William looked like the kid who wants to be a man, but just isn't yet, and Bella was a pretty little saloon girl. Even the husband could pull off the cowboy look with ease. They all love the picture and want it displayed prominently in our home, and I wish that there was a way to take me out of it. I loathe having my picture made because it forces me to face the fact that I am not nearly as thin and good looking as I am in my own mind. Also because every time someone takes a picture of me I look at it and am convinced that I could have done better -- that is why I rarely give up my camera.
I had better close, the minions have been in here 34 times in the last 10 minutes wanting something and the choruses of "Mom, Mamma, Mom" have started again. It is a stormy day here in North Alabama and all I want to do is curl up with a good book -- I brought about 8 books to read and I have already found 2 more in the stacks around my mom's house. I do not understand why this weather doesn't have the same effect on my children. They want to run in circles squealing when it rains. I'd like nothing more to get a blanket, a book, and a cup of coffee and sit in a comfortable chair by the window and watch entranced as sheets of rain pound the ground and the winds bend trees to their will as if demanding that they bow down to their awesome power. A good thunderstorm in the South is a majestic, awesome, and sometimes frightening spectacle. Never has that been more true than this year.
"Mom, where's my other shoe?"
"Mom, I need a band-aid."
"Mama, can we go to the Baby Store and get another baby?"
"Mama, I'm mad at you!'
"Mooooooom! William sat on my head!"
"Mama, William is telling everyone bad things about me and now they are all being mean to me."
"Mama, can I take flying lessons? Like a bird, or a bee, or a super hero without a cape?"
"Mama, what's for lunch?"
"Mama, can we go back to Texas on this day?"
"Mom, why doesn't Daddy just get a job in Alabama?"
"Mama, what's for dinner?"
"Mom, do I have to eat ALL the chicken?"
"Mom, I just threw up again."
"Mama, Lorelei scratched me"
"Mama, Jackson scratched me."
"Mama, I got a big giant booger! Wanna see it?"
"Mama, when do I get boobs?"
"Maaaaaaa-maaaaaaaa! I neeeeeeeed you to wipe my buuuuuuuuutt!"
"Mom? Mama? Mom? Mom? Mama? Hey Mama, I'm trying to ask you something...."
However, if you're a mom, then you know that this is absolutely normal and you are probably wondering what the heck I'm complaining about. You're right, of course. The only time I hear it less is when they are in school. (Sigh) So enough about that.....I'll share a few stories from our mountain trip instead.
When we were in the mountains last week, the weather was wonderful. It was in the low 60's in the mornings and up on the mountain tops and I loved it since the day I left Arlington it was 105. But my kids were cold. We only brought 1 pair of jeans each since it is Summer, and they had already worn them twice. The last day that we were there, we went to breakfast and Lorelei kept saying something that we were having trouble understanding. Finally, it clicked: "Mama, I want my pants to be long-sleeved." When we went to Roan Mountain, she saw an old man sitting on the porch of the visitor's center where we stopped to use the bathroom. She walked by him, raised her hand in a half wave and said casually "Hey Pa" because she thought it was my dad. My dad didn't come with us. While we were up there in North Carolina, we went to this amusement park called "Tweetsie Railroad." It was extremely overpriced, but the kids had a blast. They got to ride on the rides. We thought that Jackson was going to be too short for the "Tilt-A-Whirl" type ride, but when we saw by how much Lorelei cleared the red line, we decided to check. His head juuuuuuuust cleared the red line -- barely. He did a little happy dance. When we were waiting our turn, the ride operator came over and said "Hey folks, just a few quick rules...." and Jackson was interrupting him saying "I'm tall enough!! Hey, I'm tall enough. Guess what? I'm tall enough." Then after the ride was over, where he laughed so hard that his whole head turned red, and I laughed at him having such a great time that my belly hurt, the ride stopped and he started saying all over again "I was tall enough!" I had to sweet talk to get Bella on a ride called "The Tornado" because she was about an inch too short. She helped by standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks, lip quivering, as I begged the operator to let her on it. Eventually, once I agreed to ride with her, he caved. It was staggering how quickly she recovered once she got her way....
We also had one of those old-timey pictures done. I will have to see if I can scan it in or take a good enough picture of it to post it here, even though I look horrible. I wanted to all dress like cowboys and cowgirls, but Bella wanted to be a saloon girl and she wanted me to be one too. While my 7 year old can totally rock a saloon-girl/hooker outfit, my best hooking days are obviously beyond me. I should have been a cowgirl like I wanted. I was hot and pouring sweat, so I was shiny in the photo, not to mention that the photographer told us to smile, and I was the only one who did, so I look ridiculous with the rest of my stoic family -- like the fat, old, drunk, hooker at the party. It really is pathetic, but Jackson was the cutest thing ever in his little cowboy get up, Lorelei made an awesome little cowgirl, William looked like the kid who wants to be a man, but just isn't yet, and Bella was a pretty little saloon girl. Even the husband could pull off the cowboy look with ease. They all love the picture and want it displayed prominently in our home, and I wish that there was a way to take me out of it. I loathe having my picture made because it forces me to face the fact that I am not nearly as thin and good looking as I am in my own mind. Also because every time someone takes a picture of me I look at it and am convinced that I could have done better -- that is why I rarely give up my camera.
I had better close, the minions have been in here 34 times in the last 10 minutes wanting something and the choruses of "Mom, Mamma, Mom" have started again. It is a stormy day here in North Alabama and all I want to do is curl up with a good book -- I brought about 8 books to read and I have already found 2 more in the stacks around my mom's house. I do not understand why this weather doesn't have the same effect on my children. They want to run in circles squealing when it rains. I'd like nothing more to get a blanket, a book, and a cup of coffee and sit in a comfortable chair by the window and watch entranced as sheets of rain pound the ground and the winds bend trees to their will as if demanding that they bow down to their awesome power. A good thunderstorm in the South is a majestic, awesome, and sometimes frightening spectacle. Never has that been more true than this year.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Road Trip!!!!
So in the past 10 days, I have driven 13 1/2 hours from Texas to Alabama, 7 1/2 hours from Alabama to North Carolina, 7 1/2 hours from North Carolina back to Alabama -- all with all 4 kids, and 7 hours round trip from Huntsville, Alabama to Tuscaloosa, Alabama with the 2 youngest kids. That is a bit of an exaggeration, since the husband drove from Texas and on the North Carolina trip, and since on the North Carolina trip, we were with my mom in 2 cars, but still -- that is a lot of time on the road. I have learned quite a few things on these adventures, and I will share some of them with you all so that your next trip with your kids might go more smoothly.
First of all, a portable DVD player is absolutely essential for any long car ride, as well as a plethora of movie titles so that your kids may argue over what to watch. Make sure that the movie selections are good enough to hold their attention, but not so good that they do not want to get out of the car to go see what you came to see, or to eat, or to go to the bathroom. Movies that they have seen too many times to count are always a safer bet because they will be willing to leave and come back to it. When there are 7 1/2 years between your oldest and youngest child, make sure that the oldest kid has his Nintendo DS and will therefore not care if the younger ones want to watch "Finding Nemo" and "Tangled" for 5 or 6 times in a row. It is also a good idea to bring your own MP3 player along or else you will find yourself humming "I Have A Dream" or some other annoying song from one of their movies while trying to pee at the Flying J truck stop in Podunk, Tennessee.
To ensure that no one gets too cramped up, be sure that no one's bladders are in sync when you leave. That way you will be required to stop every 75 miles or so for someone to pee. No one else will admit to needing to pee, either because they don't want to miss the show that is playing or because they will want to have their own turn in another 75 miles. Be sure that YOU pee every time you have to stop for the kids though, because the last thing you want to tell your husband who is irrate at having to stop so much is that now you need to stop even though no one else does. By having everyone out of sync, you will keep your trip exciting. You will get to experience bathrooms that are a virtual petri dish of disease and how to use said facilities with little kids without them touching anything. Nothing makes a mom's heart race more than watching in horror as your kid puts his or her hands on the nastiest toilet seat that you have ever seen or sit on a floor that obviously hasn't been cleaned since Ford was in office, and then discovering that not only does the sink barely trickle only cold water, but there is no soap and no paper towels. There will also be edge of your seat excitement when you are sitting at a dead stop in traffic, miles from the nearest exit, and your potty training almost 3 year old who was insistent on wearing underwear today starts whining "I need to go poooooottttttyyyyyy." Good times.....
A quick note about stopping for meals -- make sure that you bring a small dog or other animal with you so that you are required to eat in the car. Be sure that you ask the kids what they want so that they can all 4 want something different -- at least one of which will be something ridiculous that cannot be purchased and/or eaten in the car, like when Bella wanted a peanut butter and banana sandwich or when she wanted a salad. Argue with them for a few minutes before telling them that they are getting whatever you want them to have and then try to order the food above the moans and wails in the back seat. After handing out the food and drinks to everyone, just try to ignore any sounds of spills behind you because you are doing 78 miles per hour to make up for lost time, and there will be nothing that you can do about it for at least another 53 miles when someone will have to stop to pee again anyway. Don't worry about dropped food, your dog will quickly gobble that up and then regurgitate it closer to you so that you can see it.
It is best to travel with kids who cannot read. When they can read, they see signs for things that they want to stop and see or do. And the highway advertisers know this -- they make large, brightly colored signs for things that they know will interest kids and place them on the interstate even if the actual attraction is hundreds of miles away. Your kids will scream and cry to go to the aquarium, Rock City, The Lost Sea, to go zip-lining, caving, to the beach, to the amusement park, and to see the world's largest....everything. They will beg to stop and purchase fireworks, fudge, ice cream, candy -- pretty much anything that you as a parent would NOT want them to have. You will hear "Ooooooooh Mama!! Can we go to blah, blah, blah??!! Please? Please??? Mama??! Are you listening to me??!! I wanna go!" They will then recruit their younger siblings to chant with them in unison about whatever attraction it is until your ears begin to bleed.
Most kids will, at some point during a long car ride, fall to sleep. To make the most of your vacation time, be sure that they never all fall asleep at the same time and that the youngest and hardest to contain gets a 3-4 hour nap just before you arrive at your destination. That way, they are good and awake at bedtime. You are going to have to get up bright and early the next day for the planned activities of the day and the last thing you are going to want to do is make sure that everyone is well rested. The 2 1/2 mile hike up into the mountains will burn so many more calories if you are carrying a whining toddler and dragging a crying 4 year old while trying to keep up with the 7 and 9 year old who have bounded up ahead of you like a couple of mountain goats. And you want to make sure that your nerves are completely frazzled when you turn a corner and find them talking with a hiker who looks like Grizzly Adams and smells like he hasn't bathed in a few years. It is a much more exciting time for everyone that way.
Hopefully, you can take these tips I have given you and make your next family vacation a much more enjoyable experience. I also recommend doing as much traveling back to back as possible. The kids will eventually get used to riding long periods in the car -- at least I assume they will. I have yet to be brave enough to push it any farther than this last road trip. As for me, I am done travelling for a while. In fact, if anyone asks me to drive with my kids more than 20 miles for anything over the next month, I may cut them.
First of all, a portable DVD player is absolutely essential for any long car ride, as well as a plethora of movie titles so that your kids may argue over what to watch. Make sure that the movie selections are good enough to hold their attention, but not so good that they do not want to get out of the car to go see what you came to see, or to eat, or to go to the bathroom. Movies that they have seen too many times to count are always a safer bet because they will be willing to leave and come back to it. When there are 7 1/2 years between your oldest and youngest child, make sure that the oldest kid has his Nintendo DS and will therefore not care if the younger ones want to watch "Finding Nemo" and "Tangled" for 5 or 6 times in a row. It is also a good idea to bring your own MP3 player along or else you will find yourself humming "I Have A Dream" or some other annoying song from one of their movies while trying to pee at the Flying J truck stop in Podunk, Tennessee.
To ensure that no one gets too cramped up, be sure that no one's bladders are in sync when you leave. That way you will be required to stop every 75 miles or so for someone to pee. No one else will admit to needing to pee, either because they don't want to miss the show that is playing or because they will want to have their own turn in another 75 miles. Be sure that YOU pee every time you have to stop for the kids though, because the last thing you want to tell your husband who is irrate at having to stop so much is that now you need to stop even though no one else does. By having everyone out of sync, you will keep your trip exciting. You will get to experience bathrooms that are a virtual petri dish of disease and how to use said facilities with little kids without them touching anything. Nothing makes a mom's heart race more than watching in horror as your kid puts his or her hands on the nastiest toilet seat that you have ever seen or sit on a floor that obviously hasn't been cleaned since Ford was in office, and then discovering that not only does the sink barely trickle only cold water, but there is no soap and no paper towels. There will also be edge of your seat excitement when you are sitting at a dead stop in traffic, miles from the nearest exit, and your potty training almost 3 year old who was insistent on wearing underwear today starts whining "I need to go poooooottttttyyyyyy." Good times.....
A quick note about stopping for meals -- make sure that you bring a small dog or other animal with you so that you are required to eat in the car. Be sure that you ask the kids what they want so that they can all 4 want something different -- at least one of which will be something ridiculous that cannot be purchased and/or eaten in the car, like when Bella wanted a peanut butter and banana sandwich or when she wanted a salad. Argue with them for a few minutes before telling them that they are getting whatever you want them to have and then try to order the food above the moans and wails in the back seat. After handing out the food and drinks to everyone, just try to ignore any sounds of spills behind you because you are doing 78 miles per hour to make up for lost time, and there will be nothing that you can do about it for at least another 53 miles when someone will have to stop to pee again anyway. Don't worry about dropped food, your dog will quickly gobble that up and then regurgitate it closer to you so that you can see it.
It is best to travel with kids who cannot read. When they can read, they see signs for things that they want to stop and see or do. And the highway advertisers know this -- they make large, brightly colored signs for things that they know will interest kids and place them on the interstate even if the actual attraction is hundreds of miles away. Your kids will scream and cry to go to the aquarium, Rock City, The Lost Sea, to go zip-lining, caving, to the beach, to the amusement park, and to see the world's largest....everything. They will beg to stop and purchase fireworks, fudge, ice cream, candy -- pretty much anything that you as a parent would NOT want them to have. You will hear "Ooooooooh Mama!! Can we go to blah, blah, blah??!! Please? Please??? Mama??! Are you listening to me??!! I wanna go!" They will then recruit their younger siblings to chant with them in unison about whatever attraction it is until your ears begin to bleed.
Most kids will, at some point during a long car ride, fall to sleep. To make the most of your vacation time, be sure that they never all fall asleep at the same time and that the youngest and hardest to contain gets a 3-4 hour nap just before you arrive at your destination. That way, they are good and awake at bedtime. You are going to have to get up bright and early the next day for the planned activities of the day and the last thing you are going to want to do is make sure that everyone is well rested. The 2 1/2 mile hike up into the mountains will burn so many more calories if you are carrying a whining toddler and dragging a crying 4 year old while trying to keep up with the 7 and 9 year old who have bounded up ahead of you like a couple of mountain goats. And you want to make sure that your nerves are completely frazzled when you turn a corner and find them talking with a hiker who looks like Grizzly Adams and smells like he hasn't bathed in a few years. It is a much more exciting time for everyone that way.
Hopefully, you can take these tips I have given you and make your next family vacation a much more enjoyable experience. I also recommend doing as much traveling back to back as possible. The kids will eventually get used to riding long periods in the car -- at least I assume they will. I have yet to be brave enough to push it any farther than this last road trip. As for me, I am done travelling for a while. In fact, if anyone asks me to drive with my kids more than 20 miles for anything over the next month, I may cut them.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Quick Attempt To Post
Okay, I've never tried to do a blog update from my phone, but since I am in Boone, NC without my laptop, I thought I'd give it a try. We're having a great time here in the mountains, despite the fact that my mother is A LOT more...."hyper" than we are. The husband and I are pretty laid back -- we have to be with 4 little kids. My mom isn't used to kids as little as ours. My sister has 2 kids, but her youngest is almost 6. It is a lot different traveling with 4 kids. They never all have to stop to pee at the same time unless wherever you stop only has one bathroom, then they all have to go RIGHT NOW. They never are all happy with where you have dinner or what they get. And they don't move fast. Ever. Unless you want them to go slow. Yesterday, we drove 30 minutes or so out of our way to go see these gardens on top of Roan Mountain just back over the Tennessee state line. It was beautiful. Rhodadenderons as far as you can see, surrounded by the gorgeous Blue Ridge Mountains. And there were bees EVERYWHERE. Most of you know that I'm scared of bugs, but I'm highly allergic to bees. I carry an Epi-Pen in my purse in case I get stung. Well, my kids know this too. William, the 9 year old, reacts to mosquito bites like I do, so I have told him before that he MAY be allergic. Of course, to him, this means that if he ever gets stung he will die a horrible death. We walked about 1/4 of the garden path to the first overlook before he flipped out and I had to take him back to the car. He was very upset. This left the husband with my mom and the 3 youngest. My mom would walk rather briskly and find herself suddenly 100 yards or so ahead of the group because they had all stopped to look at, touch, and talk about something super exciting like moss. As soon as they'd catch up, she'd take off again and they'd all stop to see why she was stopped and she'd be ahead again.
She has our days scheduled. This doesn't go over real big with my crew. We're a pretty laid back group when it comes to schedules. But when we are only here for 3 days, we HAVE to have some sort of schedule. We're up by 7:30, in the car by 8:30, and off to another beautiful location. My kids are having a blast and this kind of trip is something we could not do for them without my mom. I'm thankful. Incredibly so. And as much as I love to tease my mom about our differences, you have to be a little bit, well, anal to pull off what we have done in 3 days. I am certain that when I can type on a keyboard I'll share more of our trip, but right now I'm tired of typing with my thumb and I have do idea how long this is or if it flows and if it makes sense since I can only see about 4 lines at a time. This may not even post. What a waste of time THAT would be.
She has our days scheduled. This doesn't go over real big with my crew. We're a pretty laid back group when it comes to schedules. But when we are only here for 3 days, we HAVE to have some sort of schedule. We're up by 7:30, in the car by 8:30, and off to another beautiful location. My kids are having a blast and this kind of trip is something we could not do for them without my mom. I'm thankful. Incredibly so. And as much as I love to tease my mom about our differences, you have to be a little bit, well, anal to pull off what we have done in 3 days. I am certain that when I can type on a keyboard I'll share more of our trip, but right now I'm tired of typing with my thumb and I have do idea how long this is or if it flows and if it makes sense since I can only see about 4 lines at a time. This may not even post. What a waste of time THAT would be.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Reflections
So, I said that I would tell you about the 13 and 1/2 hours in the car with 4 kids and a dog and I will, but not today. Today I am going to get my hair colored to cover the myriad gray that streaks from my roots screaming to the world that I am old. (I am not old, just gray, by the way). After my stress highlights are taken care of, I may try to sneak off to a movie with my husband. Alone. Since we are in Alabama and have free childcare via 2 sets of grandparents who want to spend as much time with the 4 minions as possible, we try to take full advantage while we can. Tomorrow we are leaving bright and early on yet another car ride to North Carolina with my mom to take the kids to Grandfather mountain for a few days, so I will probably not be posting again before Friday. Be sure that you come back to vote everyday even though there won't be a new post because you know how important that is....
Maybe I will combine the 2 trips into ONE travel blog -- a "How To" on travelling with 4 kids. Although it will more than likely be a "How NOT To" since we always seem to learn the best way to do things by first failing miserably. Adding my mother into the mix, and the fact that this second trip will be in 2 cars with me bouncing back and forth between riding with my husband and 2 kids and riding with my mother and 2 kids, will give me a whole new level of experimentation on the kid-road-trip insanity.
Since arriving in Alabama, I have discovered that I have forgotten a few things in MY suitcase. Ironically, my kids and husband got here with more than they will need, but I managed to forget my spare swimsuit, my long jeans (I only packed capris), my Sunday shoes, and my tennis shoes. I have informed my husband that as soon as he gets back to Texas he will need to gather these things and mail them to me in a flat-rate box from the post office. I have signed up to work as a volunteer in the clean-up efforts here in North Alabama and if I show up in flip-flops and Yoga pants, I am pretty sure that they will send me home.
On the way here, we drove through Tuscaloosa -- just a quick loop down McFarland, down University, through my aunt's neighborhood and up 15th street. We did not see all of the storm damage, just a small part of it. It was unreal. The areas I drove through and frequented during my 4 years at The University of Alabama were forever changed....some were just GONE. I cried. With my hand to my mouth and the phrases "Oh my God" and "Unreal" echoing in my head, I realized that the storms were more than 7 weeks ago. So much work had already been done and yet the devastation was still staggering. That pile of rubble -- broken brick, twisted metal, and splintered wood -- wasn't a pile on April 28th. Then it was spread over the landscape and the road. As we left Tuscaloosa and went through Birmingham, it was already dark. I was certain that there would be no visible damage in Birmingham and Cullman now that the sun had sunk behind those Alabama hills I have missed so much, but I was wrong. As we came through Birmingham, even in the darkness, it was clear where the monster tornado had crossed the Interstate. The first clue hit my nose with a fondness before I realized it -- freshly cut pine. Images of the woods at my grandparent's home in Shelby County flashed in my mind and I looked up. The huge interstate light-posts that stood hundreds of feet over the road's surface, were bent over like pipe cleaners and laying down on their sides. The endless shadowy trees that whizzed by stopped abruptly and for what seemed like a half a mile there was nothing but the silhouettes of the broken, stripped, tree trunks that hadn't been uprooted or snapped by the winds. The freshly cut pine was from workers cutting up the downed trees to be burned or carried away.
This afternoon, we drove through the areas nearest and dearest to me -- neighborhoods where my husband had worked when he had owned his own fencing business and others where I had babysat so many children growing up in Huntsville. We drove through Anderson Hills and my dad pointed out how much work had been done since those first few days when he and my mother were out volunteering. We drove down Old Railroad Bed Road, to Countyline Road, to Hwy 72 and we'd see entire small neighborhoods where every house was damaged or destroyed and so MANY huge, beautiful, old trees that were snapped, uprooted, stripped of branches and bark, either cut up for disposal or removal or waiting to be dealt with. Occasionally, in the midst of the destruction, there would be a house that appeared untouched and all I could think was "How?!" or "Why?" I know the owners of that house were beyond thankful, but it drove home the illogical randomness of it -- the storm did not discriminate, but it did not get everyone. There was no reason for why your house was destroyed and yet your neighbor's house was not. That is just the way it is.
Facebook pages dedicated to storm recovery and assistance and seeing how many teams of people had been out every weekend, every day, since the storms hit, I assumed that there wouldn't be anything much for me to do once I got here. I was WRONG. These areas were devastated -- they look like war-zones. People lost EVERYTHING. So, as I reflect tonight, I am saying a prayer. I pray that those who lost loved ones will be comforted. I pray that those who were injured will be healed. I pray that those who lost homes will find shelter. And most importantly, I pray that you will all know, remember, and share with others that this is not "fixed" -- far from it. If you can volunteer, I hope you will. If you can donate, I hope you will. But we can ALL pray. And I hope you will.
Maybe I will combine the 2 trips into ONE travel blog -- a "How To" on travelling with 4 kids. Although it will more than likely be a "How NOT To" since we always seem to learn the best way to do things by first failing miserably. Adding my mother into the mix, and the fact that this second trip will be in 2 cars with me bouncing back and forth between riding with my husband and 2 kids and riding with my mother and 2 kids, will give me a whole new level of experimentation on the kid-road-trip insanity.
Since arriving in Alabama, I have discovered that I have forgotten a few things in MY suitcase. Ironically, my kids and husband got here with more than they will need, but I managed to forget my spare swimsuit, my long jeans (I only packed capris), my Sunday shoes, and my tennis shoes. I have informed my husband that as soon as he gets back to Texas he will need to gather these things and mail them to me in a flat-rate box from the post office. I have signed up to work as a volunteer in the clean-up efforts here in North Alabama and if I show up in flip-flops and Yoga pants, I am pretty sure that they will send me home.
On the way here, we drove through Tuscaloosa -- just a quick loop down McFarland, down University, through my aunt's neighborhood and up 15th street. We did not see all of the storm damage, just a small part of it. It was unreal. The areas I drove through and frequented during my 4 years at The University of Alabama were forever changed....some were just GONE. I cried. With my hand to my mouth and the phrases "Oh my God" and "Unreal" echoing in my head, I realized that the storms were more than 7 weeks ago. So much work had already been done and yet the devastation was still staggering. That pile of rubble -- broken brick, twisted metal, and splintered wood -- wasn't a pile on April 28th. Then it was spread over the landscape and the road. As we left Tuscaloosa and went through Birmingham, it was already dark. I was certain that there would be no visible damage in Birmingham and Cullman now that the sun had sunk behind those Alabama hills I have missed so much, but I was wrong. As we came through Birmingham, even in the darkness, it was clear where the monster tornado had crossed the Interstate. The first clue hit my nose with a fondness before I realized it -- freshly cut pine. Images of the woods at my grandparent's home in Shelby County flashed in my mind and I looked up. The huge interstate light-posts that stood hundreds of feet over the road's surface, were bent over like pipe cleaners and laying down on their sides. The endless shadowy trees that whizzed by stopped abruptly and for what seemed like a half a mile there was nothing but the silhouettes of the broken, stripped, tree trunks that hadn't been uprooted or snapped by the winds. The freshly cut pine was from workers cutting up the downed trees to be burned or carried away.
This afternoon, we drove through the areas nearest and dearest to me -- neighborhoods where my husband had worked when he had owned his own fencing business and others where I had babysat so many children growing up in Huntsville. We drove through Anderson Hills and my dad pointed out how much work had been done since those first few days when he and my mother were out volunteering. We drove down Old Railroad Bed Road, to Countyline Road, to Hwy 72 and we'd see entire small neighborhoods where every house was damaged or destroyed and so MANY huge, beautiful, old trees that were snapped, uprooted, stripped of branches and bark, either cut up for disposal or removal or waiting to be dealt with. Occasionally, in the midst of the destruction, there would be a house that appeared untouched and all I could think was "How?!" or "Why?" I know the owners of that house were beyond thankful, but it drove home the illogical randomness of it -- the storm did not discriminate, but it did not get everyone. There was no reason for why your house was destroyed and yet your neighbor's house was not. That is just the way it is.
Facebook pages dedicated to storm recovery and assistance and seeing how many teams of people had been out every weekend, every day, since the storms hit, I assumed that there wouldn't be anything much for me to do once I got here. I was WRONG. These areas were devastated -- they look like war-zones. People lost EVERYTHING. So, as I reflect tonight, I am saying a prayer. I pray that those who lost loved ones will be comforted. I pray that those who were injured will be healed. I pray that those who lost homes will find shelter. And most importantly, I pray that you will all know, remember, and share with others that this is not "fixed" -- far from it. If you can volunteer, I hope you will. If you can donate, I hope you will. But we can ALL pray. And I hope you will.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Life's Not Fair. Thank God.
As much as I know you all want to hear the story about driving from Texas to Alabama, it's Father's Day. So today's post is dedicated to all the great dads out there including my own, my husband, and my father-in-law. The Driving 13 1/2 hours with 4 kids and a dog will have to wait a day or 2, but I will tell it -- promise.
My dad raised me with a firm hand, a strong sense of humor and a healthy dose of sarcasm. Thanks to my dad, I learned early on that life is not fair. Wait....let me rephrase that -- I BEGAN learning that life is not fair at an early age, because even at 37 I sometimes need to be reminded of that. I am pretty sure that my dad said "Life's not fair" to me at least twice a day for 18-20 years. When I was 8 years old, I wanted to have a Halloween party and my parents said that I could. I immediately began imagining elaborate costumes and decorations complete with black fabric draping the walls, a coffin to use as a table for snacks, and most importantly DRY ICE. It was essential for any good Halloween party to have copious amounts of spooky smoke on the floor. I went to my dad with my plans and he (of course) laughed at me. I began to scream and wail about how it wasn't fair. I had seen Halloween parties on television and they had strobe lights and fake skeletons and SMOKE ON THE FLOOR!! I HAD to have smoke on the floor, it wasn't fair. My dad told me (not the first or last time) that life's not fair. I had my party. It was at 2:00 in the afternoon. We bobbed for apples and ate donuts off of strings suspended from the ceiling. There were no strobe lights and no dry ice, but we still managed to have a good time. To this day, my family still teases me about my "smoke on the floor" party plans. I feel a little sorry for my dad having me as a kid because Bella is ten times worse than I ever was on the whole drama level. I foresee MANY requests for "smoke on the floor" parties from Bella in my future. I will try to do what my dad did for me -- teach her that life isn't all about YOU and that you have so very much to be thankful for even if life isn't fair.
Because I had such a strong example of what a loving husband and father was supposed to be it was not difficult for me to recognize those same characteristics in my own husband. I was blessed to find a man who shares my vision for our family and who is willing to put up with my often neurotic behavior and still share in the parental responsibilities. Anyone who reads my blog knows I am half nuts most of the time and my kids are crazier than me -- it takes a very special man to put up with this crew. He works a job he doesn't like very much to support our family of 6, backs me up, picks up as much of the load at home as he can, shares my sense of humor, and most importantly, lets me and our kids know that we are loved. He is a wonderful husband and father and I am blessed to have him in my life and as father to our kids. He reminds me, and helps to teach our kids that life is not fair, but that it is a gift -- everyday.
With my husband came his family. While they are (like the rest of us) far from perfect, they are perfect for us. My father-in-law is easily the hardest working man that I have ever met. He is the reason that my husband is the man that he is. He is the reason that my husband works 10-12 hours a day, often 6 days a week to support our large family. My father-in-law works 14 or more hours a day most days now that he is retired from the military. He runs his own small pool company and does remodels and repairs. He sleeps maybe 5 hours a night, and works all the time. He once finished a swimming pool with light from his truck headlights because he had promised the customer that he would finish it by that day. It did not matter to him that it had rained for 3 days straight making it impossible to work -- he had given his word, and if it was at all humanly possible, he was going to keep it. My in-laws are Puerto Rican. You need to know this to properly envision this next story. I was working in an office when my husband and I first got married. I do not do well in office environments full of other women. Very few women can handle my personality. I'm smart, I'm loud, I'm outspoken, and I'm sarcastic. Most women don't like that -- they prefer other women to be as fake as they are. So after dinner one night at my in-laws, I was complaining to my father-in-law about the other women in my office -- how they were nosy, busy-bodies who were gossips and I didn't want them all up in my business. I'd probably been going on for about 15 minutes. He was listening intently. When I finally stopped for a breath, he reached across the table and put his hand on top of mine, looked at me very seriously, and in his rich, thick, Puerto Rican accent said "Lemme tell you whatchoo need to do. Tomorrow, you go to work, COMPLETELY NAKED. I guarantee nobody bother you all day." I laughed for at least 30 minutes and I got over it. He was, once again, reinforcing that lesson that I so often try to resist: "Life's not fair."
If life were fair, I'd have gotten the father I deserved instead of the one who taught me humility, patience, and humor. If life were fair, I'd have gotten a husband I deserved (or no one at all) instead of one who loves and supports me and our kids. If life were fair, I'd have gotten the father-in-law I deserved instead of one who reinforces the lessons and values that I often need reminding of and that I want my kids to know. Life is NOT fair. It IS a blessing. It IS what you make of it. It IS a great ride. But it is rarely (if ever) "fair." Thank God.
My dad raised me with a firm hand, a strong sense of humor and a healthy dose of sarcasm. Thanks to my dad, I learned early on that life is not fair. Wait....let me rephrase that -- I BEGAN learning that life is not fair at an early age, because even at 37 I sometimes need to be reminded of that. I am pretty sure that my dad said "Life's not fair" to me at least twice a day for 18-20 years. When I was 8 years old, I wanted to have a Halloween party and my parents said that I could. I immediately began imagining elaborate costumes and decorations complete with black fabric draping the walls, a coffin to use as a table for snacks, and most importantly DRY ICE. It was essential for any good Halloween party to have copious amounts of spooky smoke on the floor. I went to my dad with my plans and he (of course) laughed at me. I began to scream and wail about how it wasn't fair. I had seen Halloween parties on television and they had strobe lights and fake skeletons and SMOKE ON THE FLOOR!! I HAD to have smoke on the floor, it wasn't fair. My dad told me (not the first or last time) that life's not fair. I had my party. It was at 2:00 in the afternoon. We bobbed for apples and ate donuts off of strings suspended from the ceiling. There were no strobe lights and no dry ice, but we still managed to have a good time. To this day, my family still teases me about my "smoke on the floor" party plans. I feel a little sorry for my dad having me as a kid because Bella is ten times worse than I ever was on the whole drama level. I foresee MANY requests for "smoke on the floor" parties from Bella in my future. I will try to do what my dad did for me -- teach her that life isn't all about YOU and that you have so very much to be thankful for even if life isn't fair.
Because I had such a strong example of what a loving husband and father was supposed to be it was not difficult for me to recognize those same characteristics in my own husband. I was blessed to find a man who shares my vision for our family and who is willing to put up with my often neurotic behavior and still share in the parental responsibilities. Anyone who reads my blog knows I am half nuts most of the time and my kids are crazier than me -- it takes a very special man to put up with this crew. He works a job he doesn't like very much to support our family of 6, backs me up, picks up as much of the load at home as he can, shares my sense of humor, and most importantly, lets me and our kids know that we are loved. He is a wonderful husband and father and I am blessed to have him in my life and as father to our kids. He reminds me, and helps to teach our kids that life is not fair, but that it is a gift -- everyday.
With my husband came his family. While they are (like the rest of us) far from perfect, they are perfect for us. My father-in-law is easily the hardest working man that I have ever met. He is the reason that my husband is the man that he is. He is the reason that my husband works 10-12 hours a day, often 6 days a week to support our large family. My father-in-law works 14 or more hours a day most days now that he is retired from the military. He runs his own small pool company and does remodels and repairs. He sleeps maybe 5 hours a night, and works all the time. He once finished a swimming pool with light from his truck headlights because he had promised the customer that he would finish it by that day. It did not matter to him that it had rained for 3 days straight making it impossible to work -- he had given his word, and if it was at all humanly possible, he was going to keep it. My in-laws are Puerto Rican. You need to know this to properly envision this next story. I was working in an office when my husband and I first got married. I do not do well in office environments full of other women. Very few women can handle my personality. I'm smart, I'm loud, I'm outspoken, and I'm sarcastic. Most women don't like that -- they prefer other women to be as fake as they are. So after dinner one night at my in-laws, I was complaining to my father-in-law about the other women in my office -- how they were nosy, busy-bodies who were gossips and I didn't want them all up in my business. I'd probably been going on for about 15 minutes. He was listening intently. When I finally stopped for a breath, he reached across the table and put his hand on top of mine, looked at me very seriously, and in his rich, thick, Puerto Rican accent said "Lemme tell you whatchoo need to do. Tomorrow, you go to work, COMPLETELY NAKED. I guarantee nobody bother you all day." I laughed for at least 30 minutes and I got over it. He was, once again, reinforcing that lesson that I so often try to resist: "Life's not fair."
If life were fair, I'd have gotten the father I deserved instead of the one who taught me humility, patience, and humor. If life were fair, I'd have gotten a husband I deserved (or no one at all) instead of one who loves and supports me and our kids. If life were fair, I'd have gotten the father-in-law I deserved instead of one who reinforces the lessons and values that I often need reminding of and that I want my kids to know. Life is NOT fair. It IS a blessing. It IS what you make of it. It IS a great ride. But it is rarely (if ever) "fair." Thank God.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)