Trail of Blights....Austin Roadtrip

So road trips are always good blog material.... Let me share one with you!

Let me start by saying my husband is a very spontaneous and generous man. It's part of what I love about him, so when he wanted to drive to Austin this season to see the infamous Trail of Lights, I was happy to comply, and we waited for the ideal opportunity....but since there has been so much illness in the family the last two weeks, that opportunity didn't come until yesterday, when my mom took Baby Bear overnight. And so we jumped, and quickly strapped the Bean into the Silver Rocket and were on our way. Ok ok ok.....those of you with kids aren't buying it. Of course it was more like this: wait for the kids to wake up from their atypically long naps..... Find out the Big One didn't nap but has been unceremoniously destroying his room the whole time.... Chase down and put pants on said kiddos...And with a one-year old, it would be easier to put pants on a cat..... Strap kiddos in the car....make eight more trips back and forth from house to car....walk and corral the dogs....feed the cat...thank our lucky stars the baby didn't mess up his fresh diaper....nevermind....well played, Murphy, well played....unstrap and change baby....restuff him into pants. Ok, you get the idea.

Twenty minutes later.

I go to plug in the Christmas lights, only to realize something is seriously amiss..... Not only are we missing another extension chord, but we are also missing the Santa Dalmatian that tied the whole display together. So after a heated call to the neighborhood PD, we are finally, tediously, on our way.... To my mom's. To drop off Baby Bear. It's 4 o'clock and we aren't even out of town yet. But no worries! The magical Trail of Lights awaits and we are all merry with our Trans-Siberian Orchestra theme music.

5:00pm A quick dinner at Sonic. Tyler and I congratulate ourselves for a smooth trip so far with a chili cheese coney and a bathroom break.

6:15pm Tyler slams on the breaks as he almost misses the last lone gas station within a 15 mile radius... As we thank our lucky stars for the noisy gas gauge light, Tyler realizes while filling up that the  car key is missing. Now, since his car is the kind that starts when the key is near the car, we are encouraged by the rumble of the engine. And so ensues the only kind of turning your car upside down that occurs in a frantic, possibly game changing, God bargaining key search.... In the middle of nowhere.... three quarters of the way to our destination. So now that the car is cleaned out....I begin to mentally formulate Plans B and Plans C.

Plan B: Because we have no idea where the keys are, we know that we may not be able to restart the car (in the event the key was tossed in the Valero trash by the car, for example) once the engine is killed, one possible scenario plays out like this- We finish our drive to Austin, don't cut the engine when we get there, leaving one adult in the car while Bean and the remaining adult enjoy the Trail of Lights and then drive the three-and a half hours home (to the spare key) without stopping to cut the engine. Surely this Trail of Lights would just be an hour tops. You have to realize we country folk are envisioning something like .... Well.... A cornfield with lights to be honest. An hours of waiting in the Park Parking lot with a view of the legendary lights. Doesn't sounds so bad, right? I consciously prepare myself for this kid-pleasing scenario.

Plan C: We cut our losses and head home with a disappointed and possibly screaming Bean-man.

In true Tyler fashion, he decides to take one last futile look before resorting to either plan - which he undoubtedly has parallely conjured in his own mind. Nothing.

I go to strap Noah in, breathing defeat and girding myself for the long wait in the parking lot (plan
B).....and somehow, my eyes stumble upon the smallest glint of a key ring in a crevice between the
center console and the driver's chair. THANK YOU, JESUS!!!

7:00pm On our way once more, and feeling endorsed by the Powers that Be, we finish the remaining quarter and pull into Austin, triumphant and rejuvenated over the outcome of our key fiasco.

Cue Vegas Strip style traffic.

We all know how traffic makes us react after a long drive. Skip ahead.

8:15pm We are literally three blocks from where we were an hour ago. Defeated, but not dispirited, we park in some extremely safe looking gypsy back alley in the heart of town. And walk the final mile and a half the the park. We should have read the warning signs (the traffic.....the hoards of people.....the makeshift Event Parking) but we were in denial, telling ourselves there must be some other event in the vicinity that same moment. Wrong-O. So much for my corn field mental picture. Think more in terms of Astro's game with only one parking lot and only one ball park entrance. Got it? Good.

8:30pm We cram ourselves into Zilker Park.... Literally some poor college student with a mic wavers
out the lyrics for We Wish You A Merry Christmas (eyes glued to the paper.... Which I found a tad eyebrow raising) to entertain the one hundred thousand people and their rug rats while squeeze-chuting into the overhanging light tunnel entrance. I cannot even describe the amount of humanity in this small space. A somewhat merry bunch regardless, but as the march wore on, it became a less merry clamor for the square foot of light visibility. Noah, on Dad's shoulders, had the only good seat in the house. People .... It took thirty minutes to make it ten feet. I.cannot.make.this.stuff.up.

After an hour of pressing cheeks (all kinds) with humanity on all sides, and having only seen three light scenarios, DH and I non-verbally agree to take off ...off the trail and split for the exit, snagging a hot cocoa and a light sword on the way through the chain link perimeter. At least Noah is happy. And I, his cup holder, decide to test his cocoa to be sure it is adequately cooled, and promptly dump half of the
sticky, scalding material down the front of my shirt. Having somehow held it together this whole
time, this last straw of steam and syrupy processed liquid sugar dripping onto the pavement from my
once dry shirt unleashes the barbaric war cry I've been holding back for hours. More than a few fellow cattle bolting to the exit stare.

I'm fine. We are leaving.

Amazingly, we found the car right away,

Shove Noah into his footies,

And make a break for 290.

By the way, have you ever shoved an almost four year old, high on sugar, adrenaline, and lack of sleep , who refuses to stand into a pair of footie pajamas while trying to keep him out of a puddle of garbage and his own urine? I'm sure we leave no shortage of entertainment for those around us.

10:30pm We finally make it out of Austin. I make a poor attempt to remove the now crusty cocoa from my limp locks, and give up on the hope of a dry shirt, bearing down for the long, wet drive home. Noah has finally succumbed to his sugar crash and lack of nap..... Shortly followed by DH who has to leave for work by 4am.

So as I drive blasting my Neil Diamond, and expelling lungfuls of harmoniousness intended to keep me awake, it luckily has the opposite effect on the sleeping beauties in the cab.

No matter....

1:30am I'm welcomed by the warm glow of our home's Christmas lights..... minus a Santa Dog. And Tyler got his four hours of sleep (that's two in the car, and two in the bed). Ahh.... the things we do for our kids, right? The least Bean-man could have done was slept in as a small "Thank you." Yeah, I know. Stupid idea. He thought it was a stupid idea too.


To say "Never again" seems moot at this point.

And whoever said it was "Worth the drive" needs to be reckoned with.

Laundry Day....week....month....year

I'm hungry.

That's what happens when you skip dinner to put the kids to bed early instead.
Where to start..... The was a little bit of everything today.... Crisis.... Silliness..... And plenty of poop.
Maybe the best place to start would be to explain laundry day. But first to explain laundry.
In my house, we don't have a laundry day.... It's basically laundry day everyday and whenever the hampers are so full we can barely close the lids. Yup.  I really try to resist taking a little off the top and continuing to fill the same hamper - getting them washed is easy. It's remembering to move them to the dryer and then fold and put them away ..., yeah that part is the clincher. I can't even remember how many loads I've had to rewash due to the simple fact that I'm highly distractable.... Look a penny!
What was I saying? Oh yeah. And the best part is that after all the washing, rewashing, drying, rewashing, redrying, fluffing, piling, and folding going on, most of it ends up on the floor in front of their respected closets. And inevitably mixed in with the smellies that can't seem to make it the extra foot into the hamper. No wonder it's such a daunting task. Sometimes I think those nudist are on to something. So while my goal is to allot separate laundry days for separate family members (because in my head I'm way more organized than I am in physical life),  it has yet to work out that way.
Moving on. Why were we talking about laundry again?

Oh yes. The poop.

So there is the distinct order to things... Somehow.... And then there is the screwball factor. More like a constant (ie the laundry cycle) and the variable little boyism to factor in. So in the midst of all the folding and refolding (if you have pets, you'll know what this means), Bean comes barging into my tranquil Grey's Anatomy/Folding time/Nap time, very sweetly asking for more toilet paper. To wipe his butt with. So as I'm taking a much needed break from tranquility.... to help my three year old, I realize, the is no way this big of a mess ensued from one simple, routine potty time. A few questions later reveals the need for a pair of rubber gloves .... So while my Bean enjoys a Hollywood shower (during his allotted nap time, no less) I tackle the boy's bathroom. Let's just leave it at that. Anything to get out of nap time, right?

And more laundry. Including the bath mat.

At least the boy had the sense to use a few well-placed (and now very soiled) hand towels. Too bad they were my dear departed Grammy's hand laced set. What was I thinking putting those in the boy's/guest bathroom? And on that note, whoever thought it was a good idea to share the kid's bathroom with guests?! The inventor of bleach must have had little boys.

When I told Noah I was going to wash all his clothes today ... He got very worried... And said, "No Mom! I need some of my clothes still...... "
So i proceed to explain that what i meant was... not all of his clothes... just all of his dirty ones. switching gears, he says, "Well, that's good. I'm out of underwear! I think I must have packed them all!"

Uh yeah. Newsflash: You didn't pack em. They're with sweet Grammy's hand towels in the belly of the soak cycle.

So while you're cleaning up your very dirty laundry and trying to keep from bleaching your boys - remember.... Someday they'll be tricking some other poor, lovelorn sap into doing their laundry for them .... In about twenty years..... True story.... DH was very good at convincing poor unsuspecting college girls to do his laundry. Wait....now it's me! Ooooooohhhhh man...... He's a tricky one! I guess I'm not gonna get the last laugh in this episode.

What do ya know....I'm not hungry anymore.

And now to our new section:
Noah ism of the day:

Me: Noah, what's our brain for?
Noah: To keep our heads puffed up!

Feeling Sentimental

Christmas time is my favorite time of year. And it goes without saying that it is also the craziest time of year - barring summer vacation but we'll get to that. I've been barely hanging on the last few weeks with pageants, teacher gifts, extra cooking... all while the kiddos are sick and Tyler, who is also sick, works six days a week. It sure doesn't help when we literally celebrate four birthdays, my in laws anniversary, and Christmas all alongside of eachother. But we take it all in stride, along with the rest of the busy families out there, thankful for those we have this holiday season. When I started writing this, I had lots of funny anecdotes to share but somehow it has taken a sentimental turn as we mourn with the nation this week. This is further evidenced by the fact that I let my oldest lay down with me for a nap instead of in his own bed where he will actually get some rest.... (never mind that in his glee, he woke the baby, who demanded to be held and my Big Boy was then left to play in my bed alone.... Not that he minded that one bit.

All the Christmas parties are making the babies a little on edge. So as my Youngest bangs his head on the floor screaming because his little nerves are frayed by extra sugar, I bid you all a good afternoon and hopefully a more cheerful mood than I am in right now.

Cheers

Time Saving Tips to make you Less than an Hour Late

Running late...this is basically every morning..... Noah has grown to believe that "I'm late!" is the lingo required for getting in the car..... Thirty minutes later. Kind of like "Open Sesame."So today was no exception.

So here it is: time saving tips on how not to be an hour late:

1) Dishwashing is inevitable. If you're like me, you will wait till it is overflowing  before you do them.... and inevitably the dishwasher is clean so you just wash the one or two items taking up the most room. Bingo. Dishes saved for another day. Im a master dish procrastinator. Because I went to college. I know what you're thinking.... yeah yeah, you stickler - Here comes your tip -  Sometimes combining up your chores will save you time (and money!) Ever wash your face w dawn dish soap? Just a dab'll do ;) Take that, Mary Kay! Plus you can use all your pretty unused soaps as presents for your friends. See? Double time saving. Dishes, check; Face freshened, check; Christmas shopping, check.

That way, your coffee doesn't end up on the floor while you take a sixty second trip to the back of your house to slather your greasy visage.

2) Skip the mug. Just go ahead and pour that coffee on the floor. Get that inevitability over and done with. Got it? Ok, moving on. Now you can pour the second cup.... Wait for it.... In a travel mug. Since you'll end up pouring that coffee in a regular mug, leaving it somewhere, then pouring it in a travel mug to have your first (er.... Second) cup in the car. May as well skip the middle mug. Moving on.

3) Keep as many things as possible in your car. Makeup has never been possible till I started strapping in the kids, doing my makeup and then backing out of the garage. Kids contained, face contained. You can take this as far as you want.... Have you ever seen Mr Bean Goes to the Dentist? Yeah, that was based on me. You're welcome, Rowen Atkinson. (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, KIDS!) Ok, ok, so I I would never drive down the road doing those things, but in your garage before backing up, live it up!

4) Locate your keys BEFORE getting behind the wheel. Yeah, yeah. Seems understated. Better yet, just skip getting in the car, assume they are not where they should be and start looking in the weirdest places you can think of. After knocking the ice off of the keys you found in the freezer, you're good to go.

So as you guzzle your son's half eaten yogurt over the sink on your way out the door, remember, there are only 12 more hours till bedtime!

Cheers

some crappy evening

It's been one of "those days" ..... Actually it's been one of those days for a few years now..... But you know what I mean. One of those days that sounds like a great country song .....
Ornery kiddos
pee pee pants
Broken ATM
No 5% back hahaha

Yeah bad joke. Whatever. Where's the bottle opener?

No but seriously, to be clear, some jack wagons ganked our lawn decor extension cords. Which makes me want to scream. It's not the $3 cord. I know, hard to believe. I just feel icky about someone coming up on our property while we were sleeping and messing with us.

And the dogs - who bark when a leaf hits the roof - were sleeping like babies. Dog fail.

According to my son, the mean Halloween black cat did it. He must be in cahoots w the dogs.

But there is a cherry (or rather cranberry) on top of this day because I know, at the end of it, even though I'm still in my pajamas, that there is a cranberry coffee cake waiting for me when the kiddos heads hit their pillows (where IS that bottle opener?!?) BUT guess what big mess awaited me when I got home from the drugstore? Yup. Cake. Dog fail #2.


So while daddy's out on the lawn with his BB gun tonight, I will be enjoying my glass of wine without the coffee cake. Out if a solo cup. So I dont have to do the dishes

Cheers