We always keep a small blanket under the seat in our van. Maybe it's because I read a book about a guy who was trapped in his car at the bottom of a ravine for weeks. If that ever happened to me, at least I'd have a blanket. When I was packing up the car to go to Tahoe, I saw that there was an extra blanket under another seat. I almost took it out but decided that I didn't need the space and it could stay. But I pondered that blanket for a solid minute before making a decision.
It's inexplicable, really, why my toddler decided that sleeping was optional on our recent trip. He's been sleeping through the night for more than 10 months so I'm not sure why he woke up--more often than not--in the middle of the night, shouting, "Ah duh!" If we ignored him because, no, son, we are not all done with our sleep at 3:15 am, his pleasant conversation turned to hysterical sobbing.The walls were paper thin. You could clear your throat in the next room, with doors closed, and everyone heard it. My mom and I had full conversations through the shared bathroom wall as we did our hair. So leaving him to "cry it out" wasn't really an option. Unless we wanted two grandparents, two parents, two brothers, and a dog crying it out in their own beds as they endured the shriek of the banshee.
At first, we thought it was because he was in our room with us. Perhaps the curtain we'd hung from the cabin's roof wasn't fooling him as to our whereabouts. So we played musical rooms and moved him into his own space. A couple of times, we gave him a bottle, hoping he'd grow weary as he quietly guzzled his pre-dawn snack. This wasn't really a solution though. He hasn't needed a bottle in the middle of the night in many, many moons. Sometimes he'd snuggle up to us and be just about asleep when, "Bing!" he'd sit straight up and grab a nose or squeal in delight that we were still there.
One particular night, Troy had gone out to the couch with him. After an hour had passed with Will fussing or wailing or full on summoning any nearby coyotes, I went and got him so that Troy could tap out. I'd been lying in bed, not really sleeping anyway.
I tried all my tricks. With Will, I've developed an almost fool proof way to get him to sleep. It works at least 9 times out of 10. On this particular night, as I bounced and rocked and gently swung--simulating an experience that can only be described as hopping on the top of a working washing machine while riding in the back of a school bus--he stared at me with wide eyes, letting out a cry every once in awhile.
"That's it," I thought. I'll take him for a drive. We have never once taken Will for a drive in the middle of the night with the intention of getting him to sleep. Come to think of it, I'm not sure we've ever done that with any of our children. I texted Troy, in case he woke up while I was gone, letting him know that I was out driving. I put my glasses on and grabbed the keys, closing the door behind me.
That's when I realized I didn't have my wallet and that I probably shouldn't drive around the lake at what was now 4:15 in the morning without it. I went to put the key into the cabin doorknob when I realized that I'd grabbed the wrong keys. I had my key ring, which did not possess a way to get me back inside the locked cabin. I stood, tired and confused about what to do next.
I thought about knocking but no one knew I'd gone outside. I assumed I'd scare the crap out of anyone who heard me. In the light of day I can't say that I really care much about scaring the crap out of my husband or my parents but, for some reason, in the middle of the night, this seemed like a mean and potentially dangerous idea. I imagined them jumping a mile--thinking everyone was safe in their beds and being very worried about who was rapping on the door at an inhuman hour. Or, perhaps, they'd hear me, whisper about what intruder was attempting to rattle them in the dark of night, and finally open the door and clobber me with a rolling pin before realizing who I was--their only daughter, his beloved wife.
One thing was for sure. I wasn't standing out in the middle of the Sierra Nevada mountains before dawn. Those mountains are deadly--ask the Donners. I will, probably, meet my death at the paw of a bear because I am not actually afraid of them and have been known to follow them for photo opportunities. But, I was standing out in the open with a small crying child and I feel like that is infinitely more tempting for a bear than a lady with a camera.
I buckled Will into his seat and decided to forego the wallet. It took nearly 45 minutes of driving before Will fell asleep. His shrieking escalated to war time loud and I was slowly losing my tired mind. I drove around the neighborhood. I drove from just north of Carnelian Bay to Tahoe City and back. Three minutes before I got back to the cabin, he fell asleep.
And because I didn't know that he'd transfer if I tried to move him, and because I was still worried about terrifying the whole house, and because I knew I had those two blankets in the back, I decided to stay in the car. I covered up the now snoring baby. I reclined my seat. I tried to sleep. And I could not.
Sometime, just after 6:00, I managed to drift off. At 7:00 my alarm went off so that we could meet my brother's family for breakfast. Will awoke with my alarm, poked his head around the side of his car seat and grinned the sweetest, happiest smile of delight to discover himself in such a situation. Sleeping out in nature, the way God intended it. Sort of. Except, not really. That's the trouble with that kid and it's going to be the death of me (unless it's the bear). He is the wildest of wild men, getting in to trouble wherever he can find it. And I don't expect him to grow out of that any time soon. But his smile can literally reduce to mush even the strongest of mamas.
I texted my own mama. "Are you up yet?"
"In the bathroom, doing my hair," she responded.
"Can you let me in? I'm on the porch."
Her bewildered look when she pulled that front door open was hilarious. Everyone wanted to know why I didn't knock. It was hard to explain in the light of day. But it was okay. We'd camped out in the van. The baby had slept. And I'd burrowed under the blanket I'd apparently left there for a reason.
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Friday, August 4, 2017
Thursday, April 13, 2017
Arizona
I had grand plans to visit multiple national parks this year. My kid is in the 4th grade and, as part of an effort to get Every Kid in a Park, 4th graders get their vehicle in for free. It is, as my son says, "Boss."
This was also the year that my kids (ever so thankfully and PRAISE the LORD!) switched from a year round schedule to a traditional one. People told me I would desperately miss the track system. People told me to be careful what I wished for. People were wrong. I've loved every second of the traditional year and am SO excited that my kids are getting out in early June and aren't going back until mid August. More than 7 weeks of summer? Yes, please!
But, with the absence of those pesky and disruptive year round breaks (okay, okay, the January one sure was nice because I got to go to San Diego to thaw out), came the absence of the ability to visit all the parks I'd planned to see. Sure, we still have summer, but our summer plans are already shaped.
With spring break looming, we decided to jaunt down to Arizona and see the sights and the grandest of canyons.
We spent the first full day of our visit just hanging around in Arizona. Driving in new places, soaking in new sights, experiencing new destinations.
Then we drove through places like this, which seemed like we had put ourselves directly into the Cars movie.
Perhaps Radiator Springs was just around the bend in the road. If our boys saw something they deemed an adventure, we let them get out and explore it. They scampered up this big boulder in no time flat. Their father went after them. I stayed in the car with the crying baby who does not understand his own inability to climb.
It was a relaxing time of, "You want a mocha from McDonald's?" "Yeah, I could go for one of those right now." And, "Hey, can we pull over and look at that?" "Sure!"
On Sunday we took the boys to see Bearizona Wildlife Park in Williams, AZ. Everyone absolutely loved it.
The first part of our trip was driving through the wildlife without fences or barriers. The animals just walked beside you or lounged just off the road. It was incredible. We saw bears, wolves, burros, bighorn sheep, and so much more.
This burro stuck his head right up to the car window. Garrett pleaded for his dad to pet the guy but we weren't sure that was something we were allowed to do. So Troy tried to make it move along while I rattled a plastic bag to continue attracting it. We work well that way, me undoing all his hard work. It's payback for when I clean the house and he builds a pile on the counter only moments later.
After the amazing drive through portion, they have a small zoo. We watched a fun bird show and then visited the various animals. One of our favorite parts was watching this little guy show off for us. He kept swimming up to the glass where Will was standing, pushing off, doing a flip, and then coming back to do it again.
They also had a petting zoo, foxes, javelinas, a jaguar, and so much more. It was really a fun place to see and I highly recommend it if you're ever in the Williams area.
The rest of our trip was spent visiting the Grand Canyon. We got our 4th grader his free pass and off we went.
I'd been to the canyon once, as a nine-year-old, but I was the only one in my family who had seen it. The pictures simply do not do it justice. I would snap a shot, glance at my phone, glance back at the canyon, and shake my head. You simply cannot capture the grandeur.
We want to shelter them, to get them to adulthood in one piece and as unscathed as humanly possible, but what is life if not to be lived and lived fully? What is exploration without adventure?
So many men I have been blessed with. They will grow up and leave me (well, except for the tallest one, I hope) and forge lives of their own. But I want them to say of their mother that she instilled a great faith in them, that she taught them to experience life and not to sit on the sidelines, afraid to live, and that she gave them an opportunity to blaze their own trails.
I am learning, slowly and by the grace of God, that it takes a dedicated person to mother only the wild man. This trip gave me a glimpse into what is required of me. It is allowing them to satisfy their craving for scrambling up the face of a rock just because it is there. It is accepting their passionate plea to climb to the very edge of a canyon just to say they looked down. It is taking their outstretched hand because there is just a small amount of fear and mama would never let them fall. It is knowing that the world needs a few good men, a few brave men, a few wild men and that those good, brave and wild must first be boys of endless curiosity.
I have learned to let them sit on the edge.
It was a good trip.
Monday, September 12, 2016
Looking Back on the Time We Traveled Internationally With a Seven-Year-Old and His Younger Brother
As was largely detailed here several years ago, we took our small children to Israel. We received overwhelming support from friends and family who thought it would be an incredible experience for our boys. Of course, there were also more than a few naysayers who thought we were absolutely OFF OUR METAPHORICAL ROCKERS.
"What if they won't eat anything?" Um...I don't think they will actually starve to death in a country with plenty of food.
"What if they are awful travelers?" They're great travelers so far so I think we'll be okay. If they're awful, I will eat my words and tell you that you were right all along and I shouldn't have wasted my money.
"What if you get shot or bombed?" You people are too dependent on your western news. And also, too driven by fear. I've been there. I was neither shot nor bombed.
"What if you spend that money and they don't remember?" Hmmmm...
We knew that was HIGHLY likely to happen. We also knew that God provided a way to take them when they were little. Given that, even though I'm not afraid of being bombed in Israel, I am aware of its frequent travel advisories, we decided to take them while we could.
It was one of the best decisions we ever made.
I knew before we left that we would make them Shutterfly books so that we could always remind them of their trip.
My friend is traveling internationally with her son soon and asked me for some tips for getting him adjusted to the time change as fast as possible. We messaged back and forth and I got so jealous of her trip to London and Italy and so nostalgic for our trip to Israel. After chatting with her, I went into their rooms and grabbed their Israel books down from their shelf.
I started flipping through Garrett's. He was seven when we flew him halfway around the world. We bought him a drawing pad and, at some point during our travels on the following day, we asked him to color a picture of his favorite thing from the previous day. We then took pictures of his drawings and included them in his Shutterfly album. Nearly three years later, I was looking back on these drawings and it hit me what a great idea that had been.
Now, while we did tons of things every day and there were many things every day that he loved (and sometimes he had a really hard time choosing), we have a glimpse into what really impacted our seven-year-old on his historical and biblical tour of Israel.
Our first day was spent alone with just our family. We arrived in Israel and spent the night right by the Mediterranean Sea. Garrett's favorite thing from the entire day was when his daddy threw him, repeatedly, into the sea. I sat on the shore, nursing a raging case of airsickness and the beginning of a sinus infection while three guys hit on me in Arabic.
On day two, Garrett drew a picture of him, his brother, and a women we'd just met who became a fast friend, standing in the ancient remains of Herod's Pool. Turns out they weren't really, actually, exactly supposed to get in it but it's his favorite memory from that day and no one threw us into an Israeli jail so I consider it a win.
Our third day was filled with sites. Among them, Tel Dan, which is stunning. People think of dirt and dust and heat when they think of Israel. That's there, but there is also water and trees and beautiful country. Garrett took off his shoes and waded through the streams and pools that come together to form the headwaters of the Jordan River. His picture, sketched with first grade hands, shows him standing next to a tree in the middle of a pool on our nature hike. The tree looks like a big person with blue hair. Just go with it.
One of the things we did on day four was visit a working replica of a Nazarene village. This kind of things was, is, and will probably always be right up Garrett's alley. I'm certain if he had any idea that places exist where people reenact the Civil War, I would have to move him to the battle field where he would set up permanent residence. He LOVED Nazareth Village.
Our fifth day was filled with archaeological sites and places with deep biblical history. I'd begged Troy to beg our tour guide to stop at Gan Hashlosha, a spring that they've turned into a type of natural water park. It's refreshing, beautiful and SO FUN. In the middle of a busy tour schedule, it was nice to take a dip. I'm so glad I pushed the issue and got it worked into our trip because it was my son's favorite thing that day. He didn't actually go fishing but there were fish so his picture shows some dude trying to catch them. Even though they were, like, the size of my toe.
Day six was also filled with sites. We took a boat ride across the Sea of Galilee. The captain and his crew tossed fishing nets into the sea, the crew and some of our group danced a traditional dance, and the ride was what my kid chose to draw. His little brother ate a bunch of fish eyes that day. I might have drawn that.
On day seven we did so many fun things. Garrett stood in a waterfall in En Gedi, floated in the Dead Sea, and rode in a cable car. But, he was also baptized in the Jordan River. And THAT was what made the biggest imprint on his mind. The picture kinda looks like a couple of praying mantises playing in a pond but is, in fact, his daddy submerging him in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Day eight was spent relaxing in Eilat. I was in the horrendous stages of my sinus infection and we just went to the beach for a few hours before I slept all afternoon and the boys played in the hotel pool. I think it was one of his most favorite days. The picture shows Troy and me on top of a short retaining wall. The beach was below and you can see the boys playing beneath us.
On day ten, among other things, we visited the Garden Tomb. Likely not the actual site of Jesus's resurrection but beautiful, peaceful, and impressive, the Garden Tomb stood out in Garrett's mind above everything else from that day. That's a tree you see. Not a giant carrot guarding the tomb. He must have been going through a very Picasso-y tree phase.
Day eleven was filled with so many Jerusalem sites. We walked the Via Dolorosa, saw Gethsemane, went to the western wall and more. But Garrett was seven. And Garrett rode a camel. Not a hairy elephant, a camel. I mean, he rode a donkey, too, but, apparently, the camel made a bigger impression.
On our last day, we walked a third of a mile through an underground, water filled tunnel that may have been used as an escape route out of the walled city. It didn't matter what else we did that day. Walking through an underground tunnel was most impressive to a seven-year-old. And to his then 32 year old mother.
I'm so glad we did this trip with them and so glad we had Garrett draw pictures. They're hilarious and also so telling of the things that might stick permanently in his mind. If you get the opportunity to travel with kids, DO IT. Jet lag, interesting foreign foods, scrapes and cuts and one kid barfing on the tour bus and all, I wouldn't change it for the world. They both talk--always--of wanting to go back and of wanting to see the rest of the world.
I'm also glad that his carrot/blue hair person tree phase will forever be remembered in this photo album.
"What if they won't eat anything?" Um...I don't think they will actually starve to death in a country with plenty of food.
"What if they are awful travelers?" They're great travelers so far so I think we'll be okay. If they're awful, I will eat my words and tell you that you were right all along and I shouldn't have wasted my money.
"What if you get shot or bombed?" You people are too dependent on your western news. And also, too driven by fear. I've been there. I was neither shot nor bombed.
"What if you spend that money and they don't remember?" Hmmmm...
We knew that was HIGHLY likely to happen. We also knew that God provided a way to take them when they were little. Given that, even though I'm not afraid of being bombed in Israel, I am aware of its frequent travel advisories, we decided to take them while we could.
It was one of the best decisions we ever made.
I knew before we left that we would make them Shutterfly books so that we could always remind them of their trip.
My friend is traveling internationally with her son soon and asked me for some tips for getting him adjusted to the time change as fast as possible. We messaged back and forth and I got so jealous of her trip to London and Italy and so nostalgic for our trip to Israel. After chatting with her, I went into their rooms and grabbed their Israel books down from their shelf.
I started flipping through Garrett's. He was seven when we flew him halfway around the world. We bought him a drawing pad and, at some point during our travels on the following day, we asked him to color a picture of his favorite thing from the previous day. We then took pictures of his drawings and included them in his Shutterfly album. Nearly three years later, I was looking back on these drawings and it hit me what a great idea that had been.
Now, while we did tons of things every day and there were many things every day that he loved (and sometimes he had a really hard time choosing), we have a glimpse into what really impacted our seven-year-old on his historical and biblical tour of Israel.
Our first day was spent alone with just our family. We arrived in Israel and spent the night right by the Mediterranean Sea. Garrett's favorite thing from the entire day was when his daddy threw him, repeatedly, into the sea. I sat on the shore, nursing a raging case of airsickness and the beginning of a sinus infection while three guys hit on me in Arabic.
On day two, Garrett drew a picture of him, his brother, and a women we'd just met who became a fast friend, standing in the ancient remains of Herod's Pool. Turns out they weren't really, actually, exactly supposed to get in it but it's his favorite memory from that day and no one threw us into an Israeli jail so I consider it a win.
Our third day was filled with sites. Among them, Tel Dan, which is stunning. People think of dirt and dust and heat when they think of Israel. That's there, but there is also water and trees and beautiful country. Garrett took off his shoes and waded through the streams and pools that come together to form the headwaters of the Jordan River. His picture, sketched with first grade hands, shows him standing next to a tree in the middle of a pool on our nature hike. The tree looks like a big person with blue hair. Just go with it.
One of the things we did on day four was visit a working replica of a Nazarene village. This kind of things was, is, and will probably always be right up Garrett's alley. I'm certain if he had any idea that places exist where people reenact the Civil War, I would have to move him to the battle field where he would set up permanent residence. He LOVED Nazareth Village.
Our fifth day was filled with archaeological sites and places with deep biblical history. I'd begged Troy to beg our tour guide to stop at Gan Hashlosha, a spring that they've turned into a type of natural water park. It's refreshing, beautiful and SO FUN. In the middle of a busy tour schedule, it was nice to take a dip. I'm so glad I pushed the issue and got it worked into our trip because it was my son's favorite thing that day. He didn't actually go fishing but there were fish so his picture shows some dude trying to catch them. Even though they were, like, the size of my toe.
Day six was also filled with sites. We took a boat ride across the Sea of Galilee. The captain and his crew tossed fishing nets into the sea, the crew and some of our group danced a traditional dance, and the ride was what my kid chose to draw. His little brother ate a bunch of fish eyes that day. I might have drawn that.
On day seven we did so many fun things. Garrett stood in a waterfall in En Gedi, floated in the Dead Sea, and rode in a cable car. But, he was also baptized in the Jordan River. And THAT was what made the biggest imprint on his mind. The picture kinda looks like a couple of praying mantises playing in a pond but is, in fact, his daddy submerging him in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Day eight was spent relaxing in Eilat. I was in the horrendous stages of my sinus infection and we just went to the beach for a few hours before I slept all afternoon and the boys played in the hotel pool. I think it was one of his most favorite days. The picture shows Troy and me on top of a short retaining wall. The beach was below and you can see the boys playing beneath us.
On day nine, the boys climbed a hill. I mean, they did WAY more than that but that's what Garrett drew a picture of. We'd gone all over and, eventually, ended up at the valley of Elah where David fought Goliath. Troy took the boys up a steep hill and they ended up having to kind of slide back down on their bums. Garrett got some scrapes and scratches, had a blast, and drew all about it.
On day ten, among other things, we visited the Garden Tomb. Likely not the actual site of Jesus's resurrection but beautiful, peaceful, and impressive, the Garden Tomb stood out in Garrett's mind above everything else from that day. That's a tree you see. Not a giant carrot guarding the tomb. He must have been going through a very Picasso-y tree phase.
Day eleven was filled with so many Jerusalem sites. We walked the Via Dolorosa, saw Gethsemane, went to the western wall and more. But Garrett was seven. And Garrett rode a camel. Not a hairy elephant, a camel. I mean, he rode a donkey, too, but, apparently, the camel made a bigger impression.
On our last day, we walked a third of a mile through an underground, water filled tunnel that may have been used as an escape route out of the walled city. It didn't matter what else we did that day. Walking through an underground tunnel was most impressive to a seven-year-old. And to his then 32 year old mother.
I'm so glad we did this trip with them and so glad we had Garrett draw pictures. They're hilarious and also so telling of the things that might stick permanently in his mind. If you get the opportunity to travel with kids, DO IT. Jet lag, interesting foreign foods, scrapes and cuts and one kid barfing on the tour bus and all, I wouldn't change it for the world. They both talk--always--of wanting to go back and of wanting to see the rest of the world.
I'm also glad that his carrot/blue hair person tree phase will forever be remembered in this photo album.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
10 hours 35 minutes
The boys are off track and we decided at the last minute to make a quick road trip to San Diego to thaw them out. The boys had a bounce back pass to Universal Studios and they got to go have a blast with their grandparents and cousin, Kaylie. Then we got to hang out with more cousins later in the week. Then I got a stomach bug and threw up in my parents' toilet which I hadn't done for, oh, 14 years at least. So, fun times for everyone.
But then...
I left this morning at 4:30 am because Troy and I are presenting at an adoption conference on Saturday and we need to do some prep work tomorrow.
My parents live 45 minutes up a hill in eastern San Diego county, CA. I live in the Salt Lake area of Utah. I am a road ninja. Also, I have mini ninjas for children. I made it home today (from driveway to driveway) in 10 hours and 35 minutes. This is, seriously, amazing. I mean, I think it's amazing for a full grown man with a bladder the size of a five gallon drum. It's practically a miracle for someone with children.
I've always longed for the perfect trip. I'll be making great time when, POOF! a semi is on fire on the side of the road and traffic is backed up for miles. Or POOF! there's a chemical spill just outside of Vegas and traffic is stopped dead. Or POOF! road construction in the gorge. Or POOF! southern California conspires against me and no one is going anywhere fast.
Not today, friends. Today I left at 4:30 so that I could get through southern California before the infamous traffic. That put me through Vegas just after their morning commute. The mini ninjas and I stopped twice--once in Barstow and once in St. George--for gas and bathroom breaks. (Just because I'm keepin' it real) I drove five miles over the speed limit most of the time. (BUT ONLY FIVE!) Cars were still passing me quite frequently. Traffic slowed around the 91 and the 60 in California but I was still cruising at a pretty good clip. There weren't many trucks on the roads to cut me off while it took them ten minutes to pass the slower truck in front of them. It did happen, but only a handful of times instead of the usual 5,726.
It was great. I was hoping all day that I would somehow manage to come in just under 11 hours and, thus, setting a record. I never dreamed I'd crush my goal.
This blog post is brought to you by Lori Is Insane and Needs Some Kind of Driving Intervention. However, now that I've set such a solid record, perhaps I can retire the dream and operate like those other freaks who take 14 hours to get to Disneyland.
But then...
I left this morning at 4:30 am because Troy and I are presenting at an adoption conference on Saturday and we need to do some prep work tomorrow.
My parents live 45 minutes up a hill in eastern San Diego county, CA. I live in the Salt Lake area of Utah. I am a road ninja. Also, I have mini ninjas for children. I made it home today (from driveway to driveway) in 10 hours and 35 minutes. This is, seriously, amazing. I mean, I think it's amazing for a full grown man with a bladder the size of a five gallon drum. It's practically a miracle for someone with children.
I've always longed for the perfect trip. I'll be making great time when, POOF! a semi is on fire on the side of the road and traffic is backed up for miles. Or POOF! there's a chemical spill just outside of Vegas and traffic is stopped dead. Or POOF! road construction in the gorge. Or POOF! southern California conspires against me and no one is going anywhere fast.
Not today, friends. Today I left at 4:30 so that I could get through southern California before the infamous traffic. That put me through Vegas just after their morning commute. The mini ninjas and I stopped twice--once in Barstow and once in St. George--for gas and bathroom breaks. (Just because I'm keepin' it real) I drove five miles over the speed limit most of the time. (BUT ONLY FIVE!) Cars were still passing me quite frequently. Traffic slowed around the 91 and the 60 in California but I was still cruising at a pretty good clip. There weren't many trucks on the roads to cut me off while it took them ten minutes to pass the slower truck in front of them. It did happen, but only a handful of times instead of the usual 5,726.
It was great. I was hoping all day that I would somehow manage to come in just under 11 hours and, thus, setting a record. I never dreamed I'd crush my goal.
This blog post is brought to you by Lori Is Insane and Needs Some Kind of Driving Intervention. However, now that I've set such a solid record, perhaps I can retire the dream and operate like those other freaks who take 14 hours to get to Disneyland.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Warrior Diva
I'm not dead!
I know that's the conclusion you all jump to when I don't blog for more than a week. "Huh, welp, she must be dead."
But I'm not dead. I just took off to southern California for the holiday because my husband took off on a missions trip to Haiti. He is gone so now is the time for all the ax murderers to come over and kill me. I feel like I should warn you though, the littlest one is impressively strong for his age and, also, slightly violent. The older one has a penchant for war documentaries and is armed with both a Red Rider BB Gun AND an airsoft gun so, while he is not likely to kill you, he may stun you just long enough for us to get away.
Anyway, so Troy's in Haiti and I've decided that it is a darn good thing I'm not a military wife. Military wives, I salute you! He's been gone before but not without ANY contact. We can't talk or email or text or send smoke signals or anything. It's been THREE ENTIRE DAYS SINCE I'VE HEARD HIS VOICE OR COMMUNICATED WITH HIM AT ALL AND IT IS KIND OF KILLING ME SLOWLY.
I got home today and found little notes all over the house. I love yous in the bathroom and on the kitchen counter. More of them in the boys' room. Garrett almost cried when he was getting our vitamins out for dinner and he didn't need to get any for Troy. That led to me wondering if my absent minded pastor remembered to take his vitamins to Haiti and I landed solidly in the I HIGHLY DOUBT IT camp. As long as he remembered to take his Malaria medicine, I am not going to worry about a multi vitamin. And I don't see his Malaria medicine lying around so I'm crossing my fingers on that one.
We left this morning at 5:00 am and I drove through post Thanksgiving traffic, snow, and some kind of pinched (or otherwise terribly wounded) nerve thingy in my back and/or neck that alternates between being a dull ache and a burning sensation as though someone suddenly threw a fireball onto the very top of my spine. The only thing that relieved the pain when the fireball came on was lifting my arm up into the air and holding on to my own head rest. I'm sure it was a sight to behold.
But I got our crew home--one tired mama, two hyper children, one six-month-old golden retriever puppy, and a partridge in a pear tree. I made it in such good time that my friend said she was going to write a musical about it and call it The Road Warrior Diva of I-15. Or something like that. I don't know. It sounded just riveting!
I'll let you know about ticket sales as soon as there's a script and a score and a space to perform it in. I have a feeling though that we might have to shelf it due to lack of funding. It'll be a crying shame because it otherwise had such potential.
So, for now, I'm just sitting here missing my husband and humming would-be notes to a would-be masterpiece. But I'm alive, so it's all good.
I know that's the conclusion you all jump to when I don't blog for more than a week. "Huh, welp, she must be dead."
But I'm not dead. I just took off to southern California for the holiday because my husband took off on a missions trip to Haiti. He is gone so now is the time for all the ax murderers to come over and kill me. I feel like I should warn you though, the littlest one is impressively strong for his age and, also, slightly violent. The older one has a penchant for war documentaries and is armed with both a Red Rider BB Gun AND an airsoft gun so, while he is not likely to kill you, he may stun you just long enough for us to get away.
Anyway, so Troy's in Haiti and I've decided that it is a darn good thing I'm not a military wife. Military wives, I salute you! He's been gone before but not without ANY contact. We can't talk or email or text or send smoke signals or anything. It's been THREE ENTIRE DAYS SINCE I'VE HEARD HIS VOICE OR COMMUNICATED WITH HIM AT ALL AND IT IS KIND OF KILLING ME SLOWLY.
I got home today and found little notes all over the house. I love yous in the bathroom and on the kitchen counter. More of them in the boys' room. Garrett almost cried when he was getting our vitamins out for dinner and he didn't need to get any for Troy. That led to me wondering if my absent minded pastor remembered to take his vitamins to Haiti and I landed solidly in the I HIGHLY DOUBT IT camp. As long as he remembered to take his Malaria medicine, I am not going to worry about a multi vitamin. And I don't see his Malaria medicine lying around so I'm crossing my fingers on that one.
We left this morning at 5:00 am and I drove through post Thanksgiving traffic, snow, and some kind of pinched (or otherwise terribly wounded) nerve thingy in my back and/or neck that alternates between being a dull ache and a burning sensation as though someone suddenly threw a fireball onto the very top of my spine. The only thing that relieved the pain when the fireball came on was lifting my arm up into the air and holding on to my own head rest. I'm sure it was a sight to behold.
But I got our crew home--one tired mama, two hyper children, one six-month-old golden retriever puppy, and a partridge in a pear tree. I made it in such good time that my friend said she was going to write a musical about it and call it The Road Warrior Diva of I-15. Or something like that. I don't know. It sounded just riveting!
I'll let you know about ticket sales as soon as there's a script and a score and a space to perform it in. I have a feeling though that we might have to shelf it due to lack of funding. It'll be a crying shame because it otherwise had such potential.
So, for now, I'm just sitting here missing my husband and humming would-be notes to a would-be masterpiece. But I'm alive, so it's all good.
Monday, October 19, 2015
California Travels
I'm in California.
It was blazing hot.
Now I'm wearing a hoodie.
We were camping for seven days. Three days at a lake and four days at the beach.
This is why I haven't been blogging.
Because...
surfing and boogie boarding and fishing and celebrating my dad's birthday.
Now there are going to be things like...
Universal Studios and ghost towns!
So to recap, there is one good thing about year round school and its TRAVEL.
It was blazing hot.
Now I'm wearing a hoodie.
We were camping for seven days. Three days at a lake and four days at the beach.
This is why I haven't been blogging.
Because...
surfing and boogie boarding and fishing and celebrating my dad's birthday.
Now there are going to be things like...
Universal Studios and ghost towns!
So to recap, there is one good thing about year round school and its TRAVEL.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Freezing Summer
Summer is so short. Especially with year round school. And we're lucky because we stayed on the same track so we get a longer, six week summer, instead of the shorter three week ones. I already find myself dreading that it's all going to start again in less than four weeks.
I want more long days of warmth.
More wiggling my feet in the sand.
More popsicles.
More waves and salty hugs and football tossing in the yard.
More tank tops and flip flops.
More chlorine and carefree giggles.
One more month isn't enough.
I want to say yes more.
Yes, you can have a sleepover.
Yes, you can turn on the sprinklers.
Yes, to that slurpee.
Yes, to that hike, that adventure, that dirty puppy.
I still get to watch my boys surf, listen to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, see that great expanse of ocean. I still get to hear their laughter as they draw all the marrow out of the bones of summer. And yet, I feel the creeping of the coming seasons. The grind. The months that pile on top of one another, over and over, until these boys are grown and gone.
Linger summer, for just a moment longer this year.
Let them halt their height for a split second, that I may freeze them in time.
I want more long days of warmth.
More wiggling my feet in the sand.
More popsicles.
More waves and salty hugs and football tossing in the yard.
More tank tops and flip flops.
More chlorine and carefree giggles.
One more month isn't enough.
I want to say yes more.
Yes, you can have a sleepover.
Yes, you can turn on the sprinklers.
Yes, to that slurpee.
Yes, to that hike, that adventure, that dirty puppy.
I still get to watch my boys surf, listen to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, see that great expanse of ocean. I still get to hear their laughter as they draw all the marrow out of the bones of summer. And yet, I feel the creeping of the coming seasons. The grind. The months that pile on top of one another, over and over, until these boys are grown and gone.
Linger summer, for just a moment longer this year.
Let them halt their height for a split second, that I may freeze them in time.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
New York, New York
Our trip was fantastic. The boys were off track so my dad stayed with them so that my husband could continue working while I gallivanted all over New York City. He did so many fun things with them that I don't think they missed me for a single second. We got back into town late Sunday night and, on Monday morning, Garrett crawled into bed with me and barely came up for air as he described the incredible time he'd had with his Grandpa. Obviously, my husband was around for some of it but my kids probably barely noticed him.
Meanwhile, my mom and I were visiting The Empire State Building, Times Square, Liberty and Ellis Islands, the Holocaust museum, the 9/11 Memorial and Museum, The Cloisters, The Cathedral of St. John the Divine, Rockefeller Center, Central Park, The Brooklyn Bridge, The Metropolitan Museum of Art and many flagship stores. We enjoyed Grimaldi's, Magnolia Bakery and Serendipity. And we saw It's Only a Play and Phantom of the Opera.
Also...this happened.
Which really just meant that I went into a wax museum but I posted it on Instagram and Facebook and had a couple of people wondering what the heck had happened in my life to warrant an appearance on Fallon.
But alas...I only met Fallon in the way that I met Spiderman.
It is important to note that if I actually met Spiderman (or Jimmy Fallon, for that matter), I would not drape myself over him.
When I bought that shirt, Garrett told me that if we ever get another baby, all my kids will be represented in giraffes with Kate being the one that looks different from all the rest because she's a ghost. I corrected his theology. We do not become ghosts. (Nor do we become angels but that's a whole different theology lesson.) Still, I LOVE the shirt even more now and I'm just waiting to see what God might do about that last giraffe.
You know what? I used to look JUST like my dad. I still do in the fact that my hair is like his, my coloring is from him, and I have two giant smile lines running down the length of my cheeks which look just fine on a dude but are maybe not the most attractive thing on a female. But now, when I walk past a mirror, I sometimes see my mom looking back at me. This was evidenced by the fact that people on Facebook said we were twins. This is a nice compliment for my mother, if people are implying that she looks like she's 33. It is not really a nice compliment for me in event that people are saying I resemble a 50+ year old. Still...
Yeah. I guess I see it. Fifty, here I come!
We saw THIS SHOW and it was hilarious. The pastor's wife in me cannot endorse the language as it was not so great with the not cussing. But the comedic timing was just phenomenal and the script was incredibly witty.
The next night we saw Phantom of the Opera for two reasons. 1. I had never seen it before which is unacceptable for someone who holds a degree in Theatre. 2. It was super inexpensive. Given the people around us, it really was more like we were at the circus. There's a pending blog post dedicated just to that evening.
On Thursday morning we went north to The Cloisters. It was a beautiful day. The gardens were gorgeous and the experience was breathtaking.
The GW Bridge is beautiful when it's not a crazy storm and you're not trying to walk across it and your umbrella isn't inverted and trying to take you away Mary Poppins style.
This cathedral is huge. The pulpit is approximately 37 times the size of my husband. He would need phone books to stand on.
Turtles in Central Park! I wanted to box one up and bring it home to my boys but decided there were probably rules against that sort of thing.
We went to the top of the Empire State Building and then we went to the Top of the Rock so that we could look at the Empire State Building. It was all included on our City Pass so why not?
You guys. This frozen salted caramel hot chocolate changed my life. I'm not kidding. I'm a better person for having met this drink. My associate pastor's wife is a better person for having told me about it. Congratulations Sonrise! Holly and I are BOTH better people because of a chocolate beverage. You're welcome.
On our last full day, we went to Grimaldi's under the Brooklyn Bridge and had delicious pizza!
We walked across the bridge. It rained a little. This leads me to the conclusion that I cannot walk across a bridge in New York without summoning the rain.
On Sunday we went into Greenwich Village so that we could obtain cupcakes to bring home to our men. I decided that if I lived in the city, I could go for having an address in Greenwich Village.
Then we made our way to the airport and flew home. I was very happy to see my vehicle. I mean, sometimes it decides not to start but USUALLY it starts when I want it to. I don't have to walk a quarter mile to get to it every time I want to use it and, TYPICALLY, there are not dozens of people in it with me.
But if I could have my own car and a magic traffic genie, I could TOTALLY live in New York.
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