My Own...

Personal Version of Hell is this:

12 hours in the car with the kids.

If, for some unforeseen reason, I end up in the Eternal HotSpot instead of at the Pearly Gates, I have to imagine that I will be sentenced to ride in the car with an 19-month old vicious beast and her overly-grown-up, tattle-tale brother for eternity.

We took off the day after Christmas to visit the fam in Baton Rouge. Now, I am not a good car person, so I dread almost any trip longer than a couple of hours. K, it seems, dreads them more than me... also because I'm not a good car person.

The first trip that K and I took to Baton Rouge was probably the most fun... for me, at least. After eight hours of playing The Question Game, K began to resemble Jack Nicholson's character in "The Shining"... so I stopped talking. That seemed to do the trick.

Needless to say, we don't play The Question Game any more....

Which means that I sleep... a lot. Once Ethan came into the picture, I thought things might change, but he is The Ultimate Child Traveler as long as he has his movies, sufficient snacks, and an occasional potty break.

I didn't think twice about traveling once Princess Laney arrived, but apparently, I should have. She is not a traveler... like her mother. She has a short attention span... like her mother. She likes to eat a lot and stop a lot... like her mother. Unlike her mother, though, she has not learned to suppress these urges in fear of launching her normally-almost-comatose father into a fit of road rage (which, apparently, 8 hours of The Question Game will do).

So, she whines. And cries. And makes a lot of noise.

While I am trying to read. Or sleep. Or tune out life as I know it in the car.

We finally made it, after 12 long hours... the last 2 1/2 of which consisted of:

1) Ethan announcing every five minutes, "I can't wait so long!" For what, we don't know, but dang it, he can't wait so long. We found that out.

2) Laney whining in that ear-splitting screech (that I now realize also sparks that involuntary muscle spasm up the back of my neck) until I would look at her. I also discovered this trip that looking back at her for any extended period of time makes me carsick.

3) Me trying to read while listening to my i-pod (a Valentine's gift from K that I didn't really know what to do with at first but now consider a God-sent blessing for trips because I can turn it up loud enough to drown out the sounds of two kids, two movies, the radio, and a grouchy husband who wants to know why I'm not listening to the 742 demands being made by the kids. Why am I not listening? Because I can't hear them or you. My i-pod is too loud. Sorry.)

4) K trying to deal with the kids (with occasional help from me because I feel guilty that I've left him in the world of the hearing... although I do now understand why my grandparents tried to rebel against getting hearing aids for so long... sometimes, it's wonderful to just not have to listen to the noise pollution) while becoming increasingly irate with me (also easy to ignore by closing my eyes and pretending to sleep... at least until Laney let lose with an ear-piercing shriek that triggers that involuntary spasm, making me jump and thus blowing my "sleeping" cover..)

By the time we got to BR, none of us were in any shape to visit anyone... Ethan was wired like he had been sipping liquid crack. Laney was in Primo Ultimate Diva Mode. K looked like he'd just come off of a 5-day drunk, and I was pretty much mute and unable to conduct any kind of intelligible conversation... always a great first impression with the in-laws...

In the days since, the kids have completely recovered, being resilient and young. K and I are on our way, although we were almost catapulted back to Square 1 after a trip to New Orleans today (the 50 minute trip took over 2 hours... anyone have a plastic spoon??? I'd rather gouge out my eyeballs than do that again...).

I do hold hope that the trip back will be pleasant and uneventful... but that doesn't seem to be the norm for us. (Out of the last three trips, we've managed to rack up two catastrophes, including a really expensive automotive breakdown and a nasty cracked windshield... both occurring in almost the same spot on two different trips... I would like to caution you against traveling anywhere close to Meridian, Mississippi, as I'm pretty sure that The Devil has taken over that town as his earthly headquarters...)

Who knew parenting could be this much fun?!?!?!

I think...

I have writer's block.
I cannot think of anything to write about. I mean, most of the time, the subject pops up, I start writing, and VOILA! a lovely blog appears on my screen.
Not so much right now.
I think it's because I'm distracted by the holidays. It is December 17 as I write this, and we still don't have all of our decorations up.... including those essential ones that go on the tree...
Yes, I know. We have failed mankind in the most serious of ways because we didn't have our tree up and decorated the day after Thanksgiving.
My bad.
On top of it all, I had to go find more decorations (because I can't find all of mine), when apparently everything lovely and attractive was snatched up by those out shopping the day after Thanksgiving...by all of those people who have been able to enjoy their fully decorated trees for several weeks now.
All of this -- my lost decorations, my sluggish start to the holidays -- requires me to go out into the "hustle and bustle" -- which is really more like a preschool free-for-all. Every ridiculous and annoying person on the planet is out, being excessively ridiculous and annoying, while I am just trying to get from Point A to Point B without cursing or killing someone.
Really? That 4th of July lawn decoration was on a 120% off Clearance rack but is ringing up .50 instead of .49, like it should? I will give you the bleepin' penny and wrap it for you to give to your great aunt Hilda if you will just get out of my way and stop holding up the line!
I think the hustle and bustle is zapping my creativity, so... I have -- after this year -- relinquished all Christmas duties to Keith.
I feel it only fair to publish this on a public domain so that you are all aware that you may never receive another picture of the kids, Christmas card, or normal Christmas gift... and our house may be decorated in a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree kind of fashion...
Now this sounds good in theory, but there are a few minor problems here...
1) I don't think that he thinks I'm serious.
2) I am a little bit of a control freak, and I may worry so much about how things are not getting done the way I would do them that it may ruin the whole rest-and-relaxation angle.
3) I don't want the kids' recollections of their early Christmases to be, "We never had decorations when we were little."
4) I wonder what he would send to the kids' Christmas parties for gifts... golf balls? Chips and salsa? Whatever spare change we have laying around the house? And would he wrap it up in brown paper lunch sacks? Would the kids be the laughing stock of preschool and kindergarten or would they think that Ethan and Laney's dad is the coolest?
5) Would he use big bulb lights, and if he did, could I still enjoy Christmas, or would I feel compelled to recite lines from "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" throughout the holidays? ("Say the blessing!")
Ok, well that stresses me out just thinking about it. We'll re-evaluate after this season... Maybe I'll let him start off with something small like Valentine's Day or picking out Easter outfits...