Admiral, I salute you

Usually if something weird is going to happens with the kids, it happens on my watch. 

For example, I just recently took the kids to Target with me, (To which mini me says, "I love Target mommy.  That is where we buy all of the things."  Yes it is mini me, yes it is.  I am raising that girl right.)  we took the very long and windy road the 20 minutes it takes to get there. As we pulled into the parking lot (the very crowded Saturday morning parking lot) I realized I had left the diaper bag and my purse on the console table at home.  So we took the very long and windy road back the full 20 minute drive to the house, picked up the bag, and drove the whole windy 20 minute drive back to Target, stopping at Tim Hortons for some Timbits for them, and an iced capp for Your Royal Highness and myself.  (Yes I let the kid drink coffee once in awhile.  No judging.)  As we get into Target, we are going up and down all of the isles, because that is what I do. I want to see EVERYTHING, and as we get to the toy department, Little Man, who has been sitting in the cart, looks green.  Before I could even ask, he opens his mouth, and I do what any mom does, and puts her hand under his mouth just in time to catch the barely used doughnut that comes flying out.  But hands can only hold so much, so the cart, the twins shoes, and the floor also get hit.

 I look and see a glorious sight, an angel in a red shirt is just a couple of isles away from us.  So I say, "Highness, get the man in the red shirt! Quick!!"  He is panicked, "Who?  Me?"  "YES!!! GET HIM NOW!!!!"  He runs over, but the wonderful man had already heard me, and he was coming our way.  Fortunately we were literally right in front of a clean up station, and he pulled out paper towels, and trash cans and that sawdust stuff.  Then a very nice sympathetic mom stopped and handed me wet wipes and sanitizer (THANK YOU so much nice mom.  You seriously don't know how much that meant to me!)  Apparently Little man had been riding around a little too much, and got motion sick.  But like I said, the weird stuff always happens to me. 

Until yesterday.

It was a holiday, and I didn't have to babysit.  So I made a doctor appointment I had been meaning to have.  His Royal Highness was due for a med check at his pediatrician about the same time, so since the Admiral was on second shift, he said, "I will take him to the appointment, while we are gone, you can do the grocery shop, and I will meet you at the grocery and we can switch cars and you can go to the doctor's and I will take the kids to lunch, and put them down for nap.  After your appointment you can do the Costco run and have some time alone.  How does that work?"  DOES IT EVER!!!! 

So we did the grocery shop (because Costco doesn't have EVERYTHING you know.)  and I got the littles some cookies.  We finished early, so we sat in the parking lot, eating cookies, and watching Sesame street in the van.  Pretty soon, The Admiral pulls up and jumps in the passenger side.  "I was thinking, we should just double up the shop and then you don't have to do the Costco thing every two weeks, you can just do it once a month.  I know you hate it, and really so do I."  I heartily agree and jump into his car and went for my appointment. 

As I was leaving the doctor's, I call him.
"Where did you go for lunch?"
"Oh I met your sister and took them to Max and Erma's.  They ate a lot.  We are headed back for nap now. " 

I get to Costco, and start doubling up on everthing.  Then I thought, "Well, maybe he didn't mean now.  Maybe he meant next time.  Better check.  Because this is a crap load of food for me to lug around alone."  I Texted him.  He replied very curtly:

"No.  Don't double up,."

I reply to him, 'But I thought you wanted to only go once a month?"
His response,"I don't have time to fight with you now.  Thumbellina threw up, and I am cleaning up the mess." 

Now, I know we weren't fighting, so he must have been under serious duress.  I hurried through the store as fast as I could and then loaded up the car. As I got in, I called him.

"Hey.  How is it going?  You done cleaning?"
"Yeah, sorry.  It was everywhere.  We came back from lunch and they wanted a cookie. (Umm, I probably should have told him they had already had some in the car.  Ooops).  So they are at the table, and I give them their cold medicine, and all of a sudden Thumbelina says, 'there is something in my throat' and then proceeds to lose her lunch all over herself and the table.  As I pick her up to get her to the sink, of course the dog is under foot, because he has to be right in the middle of things and so she gets him right in the face and all over his back.  And naturally we are on the wood floor and she doesn't hit the flooring, she hits the rug."

 But he had lost me at the part about the dog.  I was trying to keep from laughing out loud, but I was having absolutely no luck.  I was howling.  "And of course what does the dog want to do? He starts shaking, hamburger and hot dog and fries are flying everywhere."  I can't stand it, I actually had to pull over because I was laughing so hard.  In his voice I could tell he was a little hurt I was laughing instead of sympathizing. So I try to back peddle,
"I am so sorry honey.  That is just awful.  Terrible.  Are you ok, do you need me to bring you anything?"  I am saying all of this through tears and peals of giggles. 
"No, I am ok.  They are all asleep now.  But I had  put the dog in our shower and closed the door so he couldn't shake all over, and Mini me went in there to use the bathroom while I was changing Thumbellina and let him out.  So he was walking around the bathroom trying to shake off the puke on his face, while MIni me was going potty.  I finally got them all down, and gave the dog a bath."
That did it, I was gone.  I had no restraint left.  I had to get off the phone.  I barely get out "Okhoneyseeyousoon." before hanging up.  I was crying with laughter.  I could just picture the whole scene.    

And for bravery in the midst of a crisis, Admiral, I salute you....

A Purchase we will NEVER make.

The other day the Admiral came to me with a question that I physically and mentally rolled my eyes at him about.

"Hey!  You know, next year we are going to have some extra funds.  We should get an RV!  How much fun would that be?  We could go camping all the time in the summer, wouldn't that be great?"

Acca-WHAT???? 

Ok, first of all, having extra funds, always a positive right?  But out of all of the things in the entire world that I would pick to spend said extra funds on, a giant metal tube on wheels, meant for sleeping in at a camp ground is NOT one I would have even put in the running.

There are several things I have boundaries on in my life.  I do NOT go near, touch, look at (even in books) or even want to hear mention of snakes.  At all.  Ever.  Snakes are my red zone area.  You come at me with snake talk, and I will run away, and then come find you in your sleep and do mean things to you.

I do NOT like to be tickled on the feet.  You will loose your hand and possibly an eye if you try.
Pedicurists be wary, you touch me too light, you are getting your face dunked in the little foot hot tub.

I do NOT like bugs.  One bug, ok.  I can deal with one bug.  You get multiple bugs around me, and I go into full panic mode.  Don't even get me started on bees.  Well, not so much bees, but their evil look alike twin, the freakin yellow jacket.  God, even the name sounds awful doesn't it?  Who wears a yellow jacket ever?  That alone makes them jerks.  Yellow jackets.  Hey, the 90's called, they want their jacket back.

I do NOT like to sweat, or be too hot, or be in the humidity.  Please see my earlier post about exercise for my hatred of sweat and what it does to my body.  I do not like to get too hot, because I sweat.  And I do not like humidity because, well, have you ever seen the Drew Barrymore movie, Firestarter?  Yeah, that is my hair when it is humid.  And the heat that is dispensed from my body when I get too hot could most likely start a fire.  Summer is not my friend.  It isn't.  Bathing suits, and tank tops, all they do is make me miss the body that I lost after I had kids.  Thank you summer, you are a jerk.

So with all of these in mind, WHY in God's earth would I want to spend money, and a LOT of money, on a vehicle that would be for the sole use of putting me right in the midst of all of those things (with the exception of tickling of feet) that I despise so much???  I feel like he doesn't even know me despite the fact that we have been together since my junior year of high school.  And you know what else?  I don't like sleeping in the same room as my kids!  And we would all be holed up in this giant test tube, unable to get away from each other for days on end.  God forbid it rains!

 I can't stand camping.  I feel like Jim Gaffigan said it best, "If the outside is so great, they why are all

of the bugs trying to come into my house?"

Needless to say, we are not getting an RV.  Nope.  Sorry Admiral.  I am with you most things, but we will have to agree to disagree on this one. 

I mean, really, ME?  The queen of air conditioning? The girl who only ventures outside when the temperature ranges between 50 to 78 degrees out? Owning an RV like an outdoorsy girl?  (All you all who know me, feel free to laugh maniacally at this point. )

Lets be honest for a minute

So I am going to let you all in on a little secret that I don't normally share with everyone.  Come here, come on closer, lean in and I will whisper it to you.  I am not the perfect wife and mother I let you all think that I am. 

I know. I will pause while you gasp at that revelation.



I know you are shocked.  I know I probably have let you down with those words.  But here is another secret I will let you in on.  Psst...I don't care anymore.

See, the thing I have come to realize lately, is that we all put waaaay too much pressure on ourselves to be awesome.  I know people blame the media, but you know what?  We wouldn't buy into the crap they sell if we didn't already think about it, every minute, of every day, all the time.  I don't need the media telling me I need to have the cleanest house, smartest, best dressed, most well behaved kids, sparkliest dishes, coolest crafts for my kids, best photos, and most awesome memories than all of the other moms.  I already put that pressure on myself daily!  They are just adding frosting to the crazy cake I have already baked for myself! 

So this weekend, as I held my daughters head over the toilet as she vomited for the umpteenth time, and then the power went out leaving us in the compelte darkness, so that she missed the toilet, and vomit landed on my sock, I came to the most wonderful truths in the entire world.  I am going to share them with you:

1. I can control almost absolutely nothing in my children's lives.

Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  We delude ourselves to think that we can.  We teach them manners, and life skills like dressing themselves,  sign them up for classes to hopefully teach them the meaning of teamwork,  feed them the best food that will nourish their little bodies, and hover over them as if their existance is completely hinged on the interaction during a play date that is happening in our house.  But you know what?  We can teach them manners, but chances are, when you are out in public, they are going to burp, fart, use their fork as a weapon and spill your glass of wine.  When you teach them to dress themselves, they will realize they have other options for clothing than what you laid out for them, and will most likely throw a tantrum if you don't let them wear that pink furry long sleeve shirt, purple polka dot skirt, striped leggings, and cowboy boots and it is 98 degrees outside.  You will sign them up for a basketball class, only to have them take themselves out of the game and lay on the floor under the basket in protest when the coach tells them  "Not yet son".  And the wonderful food you make daily?  I can tell you from experience, little to none of it makes it into their body most of the time.  Especially if you are packing their lunch for school, because they are just going to trade those peaches for a cupcake with their friend at the lunchtable. And that playdate?  Yes Johnny got his feelings hurt, but he won't remember it an hour from now. 

2. My house will never be clean

I can try.  I can give it the most valiant effort that I can, spend a whole entire day, week, or month completely cleaning and organizing and pairing down and weeding out all of our closets, and cupboards.  I can scrub all of the counters and sinks and bathtubs and showers until they shine, I can do every single load of laundry until my water bill is astronomically high.  But I will turn around and see in my wake almost EVERYTHING I have done, undone.  The sink I washed?  Cheeto fingers are all over the handles and basin.  The closet in the hall I just cleaned out and neatly hung all of the coats and scarves?  My kids went outside to play in the snow and I now have a huge pile of snow clothes all over the floor with the lovely addition to puddles of melted snow on my sparkly clean hardwood floor.  My kitchen island I just completely decluttered, is now completely covered with homework papers, mail, empty soda cans, and crayons.  And do not even get me started on the laundry, as Your Royal Highness apparently needs to change his clothes 11 times a day and is too good to wear the clothes that he had on for literally one hour, again after it has been worn.  I vacuum, the dog sheds.  I do all of the dishes in the house, my son brings me dishes he has been hoarding in his room.  I wipe smudges off the wall, and they go behind me and the smudges are back.  My house will never ever ever ever be clean while they are living here. I will never have that sense of being done.

3. I will never be Martha Stewart.

I like to do crafts.  I like to make things.  I gaze at Pinterst for hours on end and look at all of things things I would love to do and make.  And I try to do some of them.  They never turn out the same.  I had my kids paint big boxes so we could decorate them like a car, and then have a drive in movie that night.  I had visions of us them giggling, eating popcorn and watching a movie while lounging in their little perfectly decorated car boxes with headlights and bumper stickers, and license plates and cool little details.  I was delusional.  Oh we painted them alright.  And their clothes, and bodies and feet, and about halfway through two of the little ones got bored and gave up, so their cars are only halfway done.  The oldest decided to make his into a tank, complete with red solo cup cannon, and who knows what else but it is almost completely covered in blue painters tape.  He also refused to paint it because he felt it would take time away from all of the guns and ammo he wanted to put on there.  Oy vay.  So we have the movie, and sitting nicely in their cars, eating their popcorn lasted for all of 5minutes.  LIttle man, who really isn't even old enough for full length movies, was up and running around like a maniac spilling popcorn, and bugging all of the others who wanted to actually watch the movie, pulling off his older brother's solo cup guns, and dumping popcorn on his sister's head.  I watch in defeat as the paper plate "headlights" are torn off and used for weapns against each other. 

4.  I am not the picture of patience, and will never be one of those soft spoken moms.

I am loud.  I am a loud person, and I have just come to accept it.  I have to talk over these people everyday, all day long, and I am sorry, I just can't shut it off ever.  I also do not have the patience I should to be the mother of a tween, and two preschoolers and a toddler.  I get snappy when I am tired.  I snarl if they don't stay in bed at night.  I only can wait so long for them to "do it myself!!"  I tend to pick fights with the Admiral when I am frustrated, only so I can actually have a verbal battle with someone who can battle back, and I don't feel guilty about being sarcastic to.  I am not proud of this, but it is a truth none the less. I tend to yell a lot, sometimes because I feel they can't hear me, but mostly because they JUST WON"T LISTEN!!!  I guess I think if I say it louder, they will do it, instead of ignoring me and continuing to do what ever the hell it is they are doing instead of listening to the one who birthed them.

So there you have it.  My life truths.  It is actually a huge relief to say them aloud, and share them.  Because chances are, I am not alone.  Chances are there are others of you out there, like me, who are loud, and yell, and lose their cool, and  are bad at executing crafts, and have clutter and messes, and have furniture that doesn't match the drapes or plates that are all the same, or enough spoons for everyone, or can't get their kids to eat anything but cookies, nutella, and fruit (if you can get them to eat the fruit.  All of a sudden Mini Me is on a fruit hiatus.)  But the nice thing is, even though I have these truths, they are truths, not absolutes.  I can work on changing the parts I want to change, or just accept the parts I can't.  And there is going to come a time in my life where my kids aren't around to mess up the clean I do, or are too old to boss around as to what to eat or how to act.  And I will have time to craft to my heart's content.  But then, I won't have them here 24/7 anymore.  I won't be a full time mom anymore.  So I think for now, I will just accept my truths, love my kids, and do my best, and if that makes me less than someone else, I just don't care.  I am me, and this is my life, and I am happy in it.  And you should be happy in yours too.  Dont let yourself compare yourself to anyone else.  They do not have your life.  Your life is yours and yours alone, and you are the only one you have to answer to.  I have something I say to myself daily, and I want to share it with you.

"You would never dream of saying some of the things you say to yourself to anyone else.  Why dare say it to you?"

Love to you all moms and dads.  You are enough.  Don't let anyone, including yourself tell you any different.

About done with the freakin School Delays...

Sweet baby Jesus, we have another two hour delay for school.  I swear, I do NOT remember getting out of school because of cold when I was a kid.  In fact, I remember going to school, and it was so cold, my hair was a little damp, and it froze as soon as I walked outside into small icicles all over my head where it stuck out from my hat.

I remember being a kid, and listening to the radio in my room, from bed, waiting to hear if our school was closed.  We went to Newark High School, and so I had to wait until really far into the list to hear it, and the anticipation was completely exhausting.  By the time they got to the "N"s I was so stressed out, that if they did say our school's name, I definatly was not going to be able to go back to sleep.

 Now, we hear about it usually the night before, and I not only hear about it from the automated phone call we get on our land line, I get another one on my cell, my husband's cell, a text, and an email.  And because Your royal highness is just that kind of kid, he still has to see it on the news in order to really believe it is true.  Where is the anticipation?  The kids these days don't have to work for their information at all!  In fact, just this morning, my son had a delay, and he slept in until 8:30! First of all, I do not remember ever having delays.  Second, if we did get a day off, or something, I was still up at the crack of stupid because my mom didn't believe in kids "wasting their day sleeping".  To this day if I sleep in past 7am I feel completely guilty.

I will never forget when I was in high school, my senior year.  I got a job at Petland, a local pet store.
  I was a kennel tech (which is a really fancy term for cleaning up poo every day) and one night we had a huge snowstorm.  There was probably about 2 feet of snow.  I was so excited because we had a snow day, and I was being lazy in my pajamas eating breakfast, when I got a call from the manager, asking me to come in.  I was in disbelief!  It was a snow day!  What do you mean I need to come in??  I have the day off!  My father looked at me and said, "There are no snow days when you work.  Get dressed in your uniform, and get your fanny into work."  I was so angry! Work on a snow day!  What do you mean work on a snow day?  This was my first glimpse into reality.  There are no snow days when you are older.  Innocence gone.

Then I came to find out after college, you also don't get spring breaks!  Or summer vacations!  (now I already worked most summer and winter breaks, but it FELT like a break because I wasn't studying.)  Working when you are grown up means you do not get a real summer like when you were a kid.   Summer runs into fall, fall runs into winter, winter runs into spring and the circle goes on.  There is no real transition, it is constant.

However, now as a mom, not only do you not get breaks, you don't get vacations.  You don't get sleep, or time off, or sick days, or anything.  I don't even get a lunch break or dinner time.  I don't even get potty breaks!  I go to the bathroom AND THEY FOLLOW ME THERE!  I cannot imagine that happening at the school where I used to teach.  "I am going to the bathroom Julie."  "Oh, that is ok, I will just follow you and you can keep giving me you lesson plans for the week...."

So all this rant is to say that I get playing it safe and keeping kids home if the roads are bad, but I feel we are giving them all a false sense of entitlement if we keep them home on cold days.  Here is a hint:  Dress up your kid really warm, and don't send them out to the bus stop until it is time for the bus to arrive!  Otherwise if we keep having these "closed due to cold days," when they are
old enough to have jobs, they are going to be calling into the office, "I am so sorry, I can't come in today, it is just too cold."  To which the  boss will say, "Your royal highness, it is 40 degrees out.  Get to work."

Dear Children's programming, you have some explaining to do.

There are a lot of unanswered questions in the Preschool world when it comes to cartoons.  When I wake up in the middle of the night, it usually takes me a million years to fall back to sleep (because that is what happens when you become a mom.  After the baby starts sleeping through the night again, you don't.) I think about these unanswered questions. 

1. If the Bubble Guppies are at school, then how is it that they do all of these things at night?
 Mr. Grouper is their teacher right?  And we WATCH them go to school from somewhere at the start of the show.  But in every other episode they are out at night with him!  Camp outs, planetarium, the farm, the Shrimptenial Celebration, they go all over the place with this guy at night.  And major holidays too!  Even Christmas!  Is school never closed?  And when DO they go home?

2. Where do they get the budget for all of these field trips?

They go somewhere EVERY SHOW!  My kids believe you go to school, and then get to do field trips all of the time!  Where are they getting this money for all of these things they do?  And we need to seriously look at their model, because our public school system has nothing on these fish.

3. Does Mickey ever get tired of the Hot dog dance?

And how do they change their clothes so fast?  One second Mickey is in a space suit on the planet Pluto (don't get me started), and the next he is walking through the door of the clubhouse in his regular clothes singing " Hot Dog Hot Dog Hot Diggity Dog".  I need whatever apparatus changes his clothes so fast so I can get ready faster in the morning. 

4. Does Dora have a hearing problem?
She is constantly asking you questions in threes, and asking us to talk louder.  I think Dora's mommy needs to take her to the doctor. 

5. Swiper might just be a klepto., and what is so magical about telling him not to swipe three times?

So they fox is always trying to take their stuff, and if you tell him three times "Swiper no Swiping"  He will leave you alone.  First of all, what is wrong with Swiper that he feels he needs other people's things?  Talk about a serious coveting problem.  He doesn't want something like what you have, he wants what you have.  Little man is two and is the same way.  But I have tried the "Little Man no swiping" three time rule, and it is totally bogus.  He just takes it and runs on.  So what kind of hypotizing have they done to swiper to make him stop like that. 

6. What is up with Lalaloopsy? 
That is all.  No further questions.  Just what?  WHAT?  I don't get it.

7. Exactly what kingdom is Sophia supposed to come from again?
They say the tri kingdom area.  But where is that exactly?  And what are the other kingdoms that surround this area?  And are there more than just three?  And is their world round like ours is, or is it flat, because I just don't understand where I am supposed to be geographically.  Are they strictly a monarchy, or is it more like England, with a parliament? 

8. Where the HELL are Max and Ruby's parents?
Ruby is a child.  She is in the Bunny Scouts, and still has dolls and plays dress up.  How is she supposed to be old enough to be responsible for Max's upbringing day in and day out.  And it is not like they are at work and come home at night, because she is ultimately responsible for putting Max to bed too!  Grandma sees nothing wrong with this, because she is in and out for visits, still residing in her own house, and they remain for the most part unsupervised. I explained to Your Royal Highness (He is 10 and hates watching preschool TV.  I have to keep him entertained people)  that I believe Max and Ruby's parents have been eaten by a dog, and they are still in denial just waiting for them to come home, going on with life pretending they will be home soon.  I mean, they had parents at one time, there is a family picture on the wall in the living room with clearly a mom and dad. 

9. How is it that Spongebob goes to the beach and goes swimming?

THEY ARE ALREADY UNDERWATER!  Can't he just swim whenever he likes?  And why do they need lifeguards.  They live underwater!  They can't drown!

These are just a few of the things I think about at 3 in the morning.  Please feel free to comment any of your unanswered questions about cartoons in the comments.  I need some solidarity in that I am not the only one who has watched waaay too much Nickelodeon.

My inner cookie monster

It is Christmas.

I am a weight watcher, and recently diagnosed Gluten Sensitive.

And I am the official cookie baker for the family.  Sigh....

 I love to bake.  Let me say that again.  I LOVE TO BAKE.  It is relaxing, and it has all of the aromatherapy I need to put me in a good mood.  I like to bake cookies the most, because they are little bite sized pieces of love.  It is the most clean fun one can have in a kitchen.  I love the way the mixer whirrs, and the sound of eggs cracking.  I love the feel of the dough as I spoon it onto the baking sheet.  And I love, love, love the smell it makes.  Cookies to me, are just about the most perfect food.  I have found the perfect recipies for cookies that are not too cake-y, crunchy, and just the right amount of chewy.  I have done a lot of trial and error, and have mastered it. 

And this year.  I can't eat it. 

This is just about the saddest thing in the world to me at this moment. 

I have been trying to avoid them, but sometimes I just can't resist. Then everytime I try to eat one of my creations, I feel really ill afterward.  Great for Weight Watchers I suppose, no added pounds or extra points to count from cookies, if I really want to look at the bright side.  (there is no bright side to this people.  Spare me.)

And, it is not  memories of making cookies with my mom  that make cookies so special to me, my mom is not a cookie maker.  She is a pie maker (mmmmm....pie is good too...).  So I do not have some cherished memory thing going on there.  It is literally the cookie itself that makes me happy.  A round little piece of yummy-ness that just makes you smile when you eat it.  Try taking a warm cookie out of the oven, and (after it cools of course.  Been there done that mouth burn.  I am worse with waiting for cookies than I am with coffee!) take a bite and try to NOT be a little happier.  You can't.  You just can't be completely unhappy while eating a warm chocolate chip cookie.  I mean, I have had tears, and then taken a bite, and still not smiled, but my soul was grinning on the inside.  And we all think the same thing in our heads when we eat it.  "Mmmm.  Cookie.  Good.  Mmmm." 

I am not talking about the store bought variety.  It is not the same.  In fact, some of those store bought "cookies" are an abomination. You might as well just call them sweet crackers.  Pffft, calling themselves cookies.  No, a cookie is sort of crunchy, but sort of chewy and just a little soft.  It goes stale if you don't eat it in a few days, and therefore must be consumed fast.  Those storebought "cookies" will last forever.  There is no love in them.  No aromatherapy.  A cookie is an event, not a grab and go.  Real cookies are meant to mean something.

Which is why I am so sad about this stupid gluten intolerance.  I found a flour that will make a passable cookie.  It works for chocolate chip, but not sugar or gingerbread (my other two favs).  But even in the chocolate chip, the texture is not the same.  sigh.... 

Oh cookie...why have you forsaken me???? 

I guess I will just have to substitute dark chocolate love for cookie love.

The cons of travelling with my family

It is almost that time. Nearly every New Year's we head to North Carolina to spend the week after Christmas until New Years Day with my brothers and sisters. 

I mean, we are pretty awesome and fun.  There is always a lot of laughing and story telling that goes on.  Lots of cards, and cooking, and a whole lot of sampling of the egg nog, if you know what I mean!!

Two days after spending Christmas with my entire side of the family, just because we apparently love each other THAT much, the majority of my sibling gang (you know I am the youngest of seven right?) all take off to invade my oldest brother's house in North Carolina to spend the rest of Christmas week, and New Years together.  He is the sibling that lives the farthest away, therefore he is dubbed the "vacation house".  Plus it is normally about 20 degrees warmer there, so it feels like summer to us. (We actually hang out in his driveway in lawn chairs, in shorts, soaking up the sun.  I am sure his neighbors think we are completely crazy.)   I love going, because there are just that many more people available to help me with the kiddos, giving me a real sense of vacation, instead of the vacations we take alone, and I am essentially doing the same job in a strange place with none of the comforts of home.  As much as I love love love love this time, there are a few drawbacks to this trip. Not enough to detract us from going every year, but they are enough to give us pause every December to weight the pros and cons of making the trek.  ( Don't worry big brother, we always decide on going, this year is no different!!)

Cons to traveling post Christmas with my family to North Carolina:

1. The 8 hour car ride with 4 kids, 3 of them under the age of 4.
Now I am certainly blessed to have a DVD player in the van, and let me tell you, we play that sucker the WHOLE TRIP DOWN.  It is the one time of year I will let my kids watch 8 hours of TV nonstop.  The problem with this is finding something that will pacify not only my littles, but also not annoy the heck out of my 10 year old.  We do a lot of Disney movies, but some of them ( like Brave) are too scary for the little ones, and unfortunately the scary part is the only part the 10 year old looks forward to.  He is just on the cusp of not liking those movies any more, and so where he is totally getting into the "Goonies" type of movies, the little ones aren't ready for hearing Chunk say "Oh shit, what?"  when the penis breaks off of the statue. ( Though from the week I have had, I am sure they have heard that phrase anyway.)  Finding the balance is a slippery little dance.

2. Packing.
Now I love the Admiral very much, and he works super hard to provide for our family.  So I do not expect him to have to help pack for the trip, because once we are ready to go, he is the one that loads and unloads everything, and does almost all of the driving.  So I pack everyone but him.  This means, I PACK ALL 4 KIDS AND MYSELF.  And because I am me, I never pack ahead of time.  My bestie and I are so much alike this way. "Is it the day before the trip?  Oh, I will pack tomorrow morning, it will be fine...."  I realize that this is all my fault, and I don't intend for this to happen, it just does. 

Then we have to play the adult version of Tetris, and pack the van with everything for all 6 of us.  It is so much easier now, than it was a year ago, because the only portable crib I have to take is for Little man, and I don't need to take any exersaucers or swings anymore!  Hooray!  So it is all clothes and toys and videos and snacks, and pillows and blankets, and one portable crib, etc....  all in a van with 6 people already in it.

3.  The Dog.
It never ever fails.  I always forget until a week before we leave, to get someone to watch the damn dog.  Then I am like, "AW crap!  The dog!   What are we going to do about the dog?"  He has seizures when he is stressed, so he can't stay in a doggie hotel.  For the last few years, we have been able to count on neighbors at the last minute, because they all stay home.  But I don't know anyone around here yet, and the one person I do know, lives a block away, and I just can't ask for them to come over 3 times a day like that.  I just can't.  This year, though, I was lucky.  I remembered today, 2 whole weeks before the trip!  So I have a call out to one of my sisters who doesn't go down, to see if she would like to house sit.

4.  The children.
Now I know, the kids have to come with us. (But do they???  Kidding. )  There was a time when we could go down, before kids, and have a good time and drink ourselves silly, and stay up late, and not care.  But now, we do have kids, and these kids go to bed at 8.  And they are up at 6:30. Which means, so are we.  And have you ever tried to get up with a toddler while having a hangover, or even just after you have been up late sober?  It is no fun at all.   And usually there is someone sleeping in the living room at my brother's.  So I have to keep my loud kids quiet in the kitchen with videos on my Kindle until he/she wakes up (usually my middle sister, God love her.  She always wakes up with a smile, even though I know they woke her.)  We just are not a quiet people.  No matter how hard I try to teach them, Thumbellina does not know how to whisper.

5. The children.  part 2
With all of their aunts and uncles around, there is no shortage of people to ask for a cookie.  Or candy.  Or treats.  Or soda.  Or carried.  Or read to.  Or played with.  Or anything I say no to, to ask if they will yes indeed, give in to.  So when we come back, there is usually a 2 week de-tox that I have to do with them from being spoiled rotten, and out of routine.  Do not get me wrong, it is an aunt/uncle/cousin/grandparent's right, or obligation really, to spoil their niece/nephew/cousin/grandchild.  It just takes a while to get the entitlement out of their system.

6. The children. Part 3
At home, my kids have their own rooms, except the girls, who share.  So usually it is just them I have to stomp on to get to go to bed.  Over New Year's, they all sleep in the same room, so I have to usually sit out side of the room and be the "shush" police until they fall asleep. I am usually sitting in the hallway for an hour, playing Angry Birds, and wishing I could chuck one of those black bomb birds in there and knock them all out. 

7. The children. Part 4

Most of the week, I am lucky if I see Your Royal Highness at mealtimes, or really at all.  He is usually holed up with his cousins in the game room, playing or watching whatever video game they are trying to conquer.  Unfortunately, this year, his cousins are all grown and have jobs, and have moved away from home, or are in high school, and are not making the trip this year.  So I am going to have to get creative, and play entertainer if I don't want to hear "Moooooooom, I am soooooooo boooooooored!" all week.

But like I said.  None of that is enough to keep me away from spending time and having fun with my brothers and sisters for the week.  They are cool people, and though it usually involves us making some sacrifices in the comfort department, it is so well worth it, and it is hopefully teaching my kids how important a really good relationship is with your siblings, and HOPEFULLY they will continue the tradition, well after I am not on this planet anymore.  Because Christmas, is after all, a time for being together, and being with family.  And I sure do love mine to death!!