Notes from a weekend

My girl refuses to nap at daycare so on half the days I pick her up she falls asleep in the car on the way home.  I always feel a little guilty not waking her up for dinner but if I can get her unbuckled, inside, through the herd of welcoming beasts, changed, and she's still asleep, then - um, yeah - let the poor girl rest. 

Friday her head bobbed in the car but she stayed awake long enough to reach the dinner table - where she promptly put her head down on the table in the middle her food.  Bedtime!  Which left me & her brother to roam the travesty that is our back lawn (we have THREE dogs) in the setting sun and to plan a movie night.  Good times.  Getting changed he said, "I'm going to put on my Mario pajamas for special nights like movie nights but if they aren't clean then I'll just wear my Christmas pajamas 'cause Christmas pajamas are special too".  

His $9.99 Mario PJs from Target, bought after we were stranded in LA, are his prized possession of the moment.  Deprived child, much?  His comment also appears to have referenced the state of our laundry pile but I'm pretending I didn't catch that. 

I wish I had a voice recorder - how odd would it be to tape a mic to your kid?  I want to do a better job of remembering his funny little comments.  I suppose that's what this space is for. 

Right now he's playing Club Penguin next to me singing "Spring is here, spring IS hheeeerrreee", while we wait for his sister to finish napping.  Earlier he asked if plants need rocks (see above re:  the travesty that is our back yard).  I said no, they need dirt, water, & sun.  "And love?"  (which he is still asking, albeit sadly less often). Yes buddy, and love.  Adore that kid. 

Turns out I did have a few extra vacation shots after all.  These are the last ones - promise!

Bruiser! 

Decisions made under Emotional Duress

I'm back!  Thanks for all the love over the last couple days.  I was fine, really - a few stealthy hiccups, a couple tissues, but there was no wailing or rending of garments in public*.   One of the advantages of being obnoxiously busy at work. 

Although...  in a sign that I had actually probably been driven clinically insane by grief, on Tuesday my brother talked me into running a half marathon with him.  In two months.  [Black humor anyone?  Too dark?]  Since my last post was so very long, I won't try to explain quite how hopeless, logistically impossible, and BATSHIT CRAZY this is.  It would be epic, a tome - the unabridged Oxford English Dictionary of reasons this is Not A Promising Plan. 

But the 26.2 mile run is on my bucket list.  Running half that will either be a good start or enough to convince me my list needs revising.  I'm turning *cough* soon (read: Major Milestone Birthday).  And since I have little'uns to care for I won't be jumping out of an airplane anytime soon ever.  Bit of a midlife stereotype, yes, but cheaper than getting a convertible.  How bad could it be?  (mirthless laughter).  I'm posting the plan here only to keep myself honest.  Though if I never mention it again... well, be kind.

I have photos of the most-cutest dress ever on my gorgeous gal but cannot find my camera (nor my sunglasses. See above re:  midlife), so the last of the vacation photos are below. 

      *Cate posted a link to this article by Emily Rapp a few days ago.  The author described exactly what I was trying to - using a lot less space.  She also wrote this:  "[It] felt straight out of a Victorian novel:  I was hysterical, inconsolable, stricken.  I had the urge to run down the street in pajamas (for lack of a period nightgown) tearing at my hair and wailing."   Which I wish I'd written. 

Miss CA's Bougainvillea



The Long Road.

 

That which does not grow in Missouri



The World's Smallest Puddle



Travelers (both kinds)

On our first unsuccessful break for home we were stripped of our luggage and arrived at Gigi's with nary a set of PJs.  Yet one more reason to love Target.  Of course I bought the kids summerish clothes, not thinking it would be cold in LA of all places, so they're looking a little Gyspy-like here. 

Too busy to stop & smile for mom.

Stripes & plaid, winter coat & shorts - A Study In Contradictions

What I wouldn't do to be able to take an action shot!

Remiss-ness Rectified

In a terrible TERRIBLE parenting fail, we realized mid-vaka that my son has NEVER been on a boat before.  The girl hasn't either, but she's only been living in dire neglect for a couple years, not almost 6 like her woebegone older brother.  Poor children, living in a plastic bubble devoid of color or Life Experience the Midwest.  How could this have happened?  Where did we go wrong?  Cone.Of.Shame.   

So we took the ferry across the San Francisco Bay, passed a Famous Landmark, walked around, drank hot cocoa, and took the ferry back.  *Phew*   All is right with the world again. 

Dancing Queen!





 Famous Landmark:

The infamous San Quentin prison - note the PRIME real estate!

8 airports, 6 planes, 4 states, and 1 small set of islands in the North Atlantic

Well…. We’re home!  I know everyone was waiting with bated breath, huh?  Mixed reviews on the vacation.  Seeing the family was great & long overdue.  The traveling part?  Not so much.  Am also regretting the 10 days of uninhibited eating a bit this morning – especially our unplanned but much loved extra 4 days at Gigi’s.  Who regaled us with lemon cream pie and rack of lamb, amongst other delicacies.  Mmmmm.

Lest I singlehandedly depress the US travel market with my tale of horror, please note we were victims of a perfect conflux of bad timing, bad luck, and no experience.  Better known as the Bermuda Triangle (hence the post title).  Traveling ticketless during spring break?  Bad.  Traveling ticketless on any day but Tuesday or Wednesday?  Bad.  Traveling in a pack of 3?  Bad.  Trying to pick up a connection in Chicago?  Bad.  Trying to fly the one plane in the entire fleet that needed a new thingamabob, resulting in a 6 hour mechanical delay?  Bad.  Trying to fly the day after an unnamed airline’s computer system crashed, cancelling 150-odd flights?  BAD.  [We were on a different airline but there was apparently Spillover.]

Anyway, we learned many Important Standby Travel Tips, saw all my CA peeps, got lots (and lots. and LOTS) of people watching in, burned an extra 2 days of vacation I had no use for, and, as a bonus, I did NOT abandon my children in the terminal (temptation aside).

Nor did I smother my husband after he flew in to join us for two days, and shared that not only did he get to sit in the emergency row aisle with acres of leg room (on his direct flight), he also got a warm inflight cookie.  Really. 

First highlight from the trip:
On our way west, random woman walks by, glances at us, stops dead in her tracks, spins around, & starts gushing over my girl.  My two random moms-of-kids-with-DS encounters up till now have been awkward (well, one was the awkward and the other, which should have been my first, was incomplete & eventually abandoned.  Because I suck).  But this was natural, beautiful, and easy.  I don’t really like people.  I was slow to embrace the “members of the club” concept because I’m not a joiner, don’t like cliques, and I don’t like people.  But I knew immediately why she stopped, what we had in common, and we chatted like old friends.  Tragically [for us - assuredly not for her, since this was early in our 16 hr ordeal], she was soon off to Disneyworld with her daughter who is in 1st or 2nd grade (oops! forgot), reading at grade level, inclusive setting, etc.  Guess this is why people go to those DS playgroups & conferences (& blog?!).  Community -  Understanding - Acceptance.  Genius!  

More later, since I only got 4 hours of sleep last night & must toddle off, but in the meantime will smoothly start working in the vaka shots:

Tima & the boy at Steinhart Aquarium/Academy of Sciences, Golden Gate Park

Brilliantly executed action shot of.... a fin?  A wing?  A partial penguin.

No son, we didn't fly THAT far.  Travel time notwithstanding.

Over the Hills and Thru Security, to Gigi's House we (now) go

If I ever ever ever mention the possibility of boarding a plane again, y'all have my permission to mock, scold, and/or refer me back to this particularly over-wrought, fraught, excessively dramatic little vacation of mine.  Though it might be like childbirth - the memory of the pain subsides and you're left with the cute baby vacation photos.   

Reaching home base has been abandoned.  We've now hit hour eight of trying to reach Gigi's, so we don't have to sleep in random airport.  She was more excited about the idea when we were going to arrive at 10:40am, not 4:30pm.  My son is stretched out on the terminal floor using my pretty scarf as a blanket - and he's insisting his nasty Sketchers be covered up too.  I don't care enough to argue with him about either the shoes or the floor.  The girl is on viewing 113 of Signing Time and I've spent well over $20 at Starbucks, plus $16 on two hamburgers.  The bag of chocolate easter eggs also seems to have been decimated by person or persons unknown.

Matt assures me that as soon as we find my daughter's birth certificate tend to some administrative issues we'll have much better options (read:  direct flights) but I'm going to circle back 'round to paragraph #1. 

I also remember thinking that the boy's spring break was exceptionally early but, as it turns out, it coincides with Peak Travel Time.  So in the unlikely event of an actual re-emergencyt (see what I did there?  No?  *sigh* am probably not at my most coherent right now)  ...So in the unlikely event of renewed wanderlust, I'll just pull him out of school, wunder-mother that I am.

Anyway, yes, massive sinkhole of self pity right now.  It'll pass.  As Cate's sign says, Keep Calm and Carry On.

C.A.L.I.F.O.R.N.I.A.

C Chocolate bunnies in airplanes, brought special to the kids all the way from Switzerland by the ever awesome Auntie M.

A  Adventures, attempted alone.

L  Looking glass, for dancing.

I  Interest in a new game, thanks to Papa.

F  Family, of course.

The only photo approved for publication.

O Outside, at the park, being adorable.

Check out the park - Pretty AND fenced. Not that my children would ever try to bolt. Nooooo.

R  Rainclouds, naturally, the one week we're here.

N  Nincompoop, who packed at 4am and brought two things of hair gel for herself, but not the girl's antibiotics, nor an extra pair of pants for the boy. 

[Ha!  No photos here ... not a chance!]

I  Into the rabbit hole, sort of.

A  Amazing acrobatic feats.

16th Circle of Hell

[No, not really.  But that's what I would've said as we were getting off the last plane]

We’re heeeeerrre!  Beautiful, beautiful California.  Oh, how I miss thee.

Marin Headlands

We.traveled for.sixteen.hours.  SIXTEEN HOURS.  Just in case it’s not clear, we live in the Midwest, not Asia.  Five airports*, three planes, SIXTEEN HOURS.  This might qualify as a my-tiara-is-too-heavy story, as we didn’t pay for our tickets and I know that flying standby is part the deal but…wow.  Flying standby on a direct flight would have been a better plan.

*We switched destinations at the last second so we landed in SFO; our luggage was happily (!) waiting for us in OAK.

Shockingly, my children were reasonably well behaved.  They needed attention, especially the one who didn’t have a fully charged DVD player (mom fail) and is not yet old enough for the Nintendo, but neither one of them collapsed into a sobbing puddle on the floor in the middle of the terminal.  Not that that either has ever happened before.  I think there was only once a couple times I ended up hissing-with-clenched-teeth, “just stop doing that RIGHT NOW”.  And only one random crazy person scolded us (for having the stroller on the moving sidewalk - wtf?) so win-win for me.

Also, the Southwest staff could not have been nicer, plus the random college guy, who all took pity on our bedraggled selves and hauled the car seat up various aisles.  And all the passengers' shoulders I bumped along the way with my maximum-sized three carry-ons, who didn’t grumble at me.  Or at least not within earshot.

More later but I wanted to say hi.