I just put the husband on his last flight to Toronto; it is his last solo two-week stint in the great white north. The next time he crosses the border, he will have a van full of loud children and a smiling wife in tow, headed towards our HOME. Our brand new home. I will, once again, for the first time in A YEAR…have my family back and, you know, I kind of dig them (most of the time).
For this last leg of the journey, we have changed the scenery up a little bit, just for shits and giggles.
For the last eleven months, we have been living in a small living space at my dad’s in Atlanta, and now we are living – for the next month – in a small living space at my mom’s in Milwaukee. Incidentally, both houses are frozen tundras and I have to wear hoodies and flannel pants around the house lest I start getting that black nose thing people get on Everest. Yes, changing it up is good. But, you know, I am now trying to get three crazy hyenas and one crazy dog to settle down a little bit. You’d die if you saw me. I am currently sitting outside of Isabella’s room waiting for her to fall asleep, and walking her back to her room every time she gets up. I need her to fall asleep so I can get the next crazy kid to bed.
(Ladies and gentlemen, the part of the PRISON WARDEN will be played by Alimartell)
You guys, remember when I complained about how awful my kids are on road trips…and asked you, nay, begged you for advice on how to keep them occupied? Well, it turns out that I underestimated them. We forced them to participate in three back-to-back-to-back days of travel. Myrtle Beach -> Atlanta on Friday (6+ hours). Atlanta -> Louisville on Saturday (6+ hours). Louisville -> Milwaukee on Monday (5+ hours)
(You are twitchy just thinking about it, aren’t you?)
(Will it help if I distract you with really, really ridiculously cute photos of my children and my nieces?)
We stole each of their ipods and gave each of them a surprise movie. We made each one a travel bag that included their own markers and crayons and pencils and paper and coloring books and stickers and drinks and snacks. And they were happy. They shared (my children shared!) and traded ipods and DSs and colored and smiled and laughed and sang along to all the Glee songs and helped me BOOOOO! when the husband tried to put on The Black Crowes. They were mildly interested in my obsession with farms and even indulged us by playing the license plate game. We got 34 plus 3 unexpected provinces.
I don’t even know where these Stepford children came from.
I am fairly certain that they left them somewhere in Illinois because ever since we hit Wisconsin, there has been fighting and yelling and screaming and OMG Josh gave Emily a hickey and hair pulling and arguing over melty beads and whining and toy breaking and ….oh yes, my kids are back. The kids who want to play with melty beads all day long (MAMA! make me an Inuit woman! Make me a robot! Make me a millenium falcon!) and who want to play Catan and eat cookies and who want me to get them drinks and more drinks and more drinks.
On second thought, maybe I should just put them back in the car.
Stepford road trips forever!