My internet was down till last night, but I'll do my best to cover the good stuff. Sorry, people.
A close relative of Jim's was having a semi-surprise bash for his 60th birthday at his home in Virginia. My mom was out visiting us just prior to the big event, so we decided to pack up the monsters and road trip up there. I hadn't gotten to know that side of the family very well yet, and besides, Matt wouldn't be home for a couple more weeks and the boys could use the distraction; it was only a six hour drive. Oh, my. How very wrong I was.
Entertainingly enough, Jesse is in his I-throw-the-toy-and-you-pick-it-up-or-endure-my-wrath phase. So in an effort to instill some sense of value in my son (and avoid everlasting arm cramp), we all got to enjoy the wrath. Cool. Luckily for us (my mom & me) though, Gabe is the perfect travel baby. Or, he was. An hour or so into the trip it became apparent he'd caught a bug that was going around and was NOT a happy boy. But you've got to give it to the kid- he doesn't do anything half-heartedly, which, unfortunately, makes for some vigorous and continuous car seat protesting. And so, we stopped for a break. A lot. You see, my darling little offspring tend to have unbelievably tender butt flesh, and sitting in a messy diaper for any amount of time in excess of, say, the blink of an eye tends to inflict their little tushies with extreme irritation, and often actual burns. Makes you wonder what's going on with their poop. (More than you wanted to think about, I'm sure.) So anyway, I had to be really careful not to risk sitting in any dirty diapers. Well, I had to risk letting GABE sit in any dirty diapers. When mine get soiled I'm pretty good about telling a grownup. But basically, we had a lot of pulling over to do because I could never be sure that wasn't the reason Gabe was screaming. And every time we stopped, of course, Jesse had to get out and stretch, and I might as well go potty cause I've been drinking gallons of water the entire way (how else can I truly fulfill my "Human milk jug" calling?), and since we were out anyway maybe I'll just run in and get some treats or more tissues or just stop really quickly to file my taxes. LLoonngg story short, despite the diapers, snacks, trips to the head, screams, feedings, hot flashes (yes, they're still there- lucky Donna) and speeding tickets, we made the first two-thirds of the trip in just twelve short hours. Twelve. I'm not kidding. So much for the day we'd planned for Colonial Williamsburg and Busch Gardens. After all this mess we wisely surrendered and spent the night in a hotel and finished driving the next day. We managed to make the last "two hours" in just under six. And by that time it was considered a success. We met up with Jim and stayed in a great hotel that had a hot tub and a pool, which we used every night to exhaust the rest of Jesse's energy before bed- (or, some of it). I was having a great time swimming with the boys till Jesse stepped off the seat in the hot tub and shot strait to the floor like a hydrodynamic boulder. After that I was a bit too worn out to handle any more swimming. I have a little thing about watching my children drown. I'm sensitive, I know.
Anyway the trip went well. Jes had a lot of fun playing with the kids up there, running in the sprinklers, etc. and beating up on kids three times his size. (Daddy is now working with Jesse on the non-violent approach to recreational activity. -At least while I'm looking.) And Little (okay, Big-) Gabey must have had his thighs nibbled on by seventeen different people up there. (Oh come on, you would too if you had the chance.) The days passed quickly and the trek home was a bit better than the one out there (how could it not have been), and we stopped near the airport over night to send Grandma back home to Utah. The last three hours home I was on my own with the kids, but our God is a merciful one and they slept most of the way. Many prayers of thanks were uttered that evening when all three of us arrived home without any instance of suicide OR murder. Sometimes mere survival is a gift. Praise the Lord.
P.S.- I'll put up new pics tomorrow, so quit nagging!!!!! I'm going to bed with my man. (Not like that, you pervert! Well, maybe... if I'm lucky.) Here's wishing you the fun I'll get to have. Goodbye.
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