Two funny and precious conversations from last night:
I was tucking Carson into bed and laying beside him. He was looking at me and looked so cute and innocent. And sweet.
Me: I'm such a lucky mom to have such a special boy!
Carson: (After a pause and whispered) And I'm a lucky boy.
Whilst watching old home movies with Annie, my brother Abe kept standing in front of the camera and whispering trash-talk about his perfect younger sister Sarah on the video. Annie was giggling about it and kept asking me to rewind them. And then later, she looked up at me and said, "that Abe needs to get himself some manners." Ha ha ha ha ha. Priceless.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
The Top Ten of Travelin'
Sorry there are no pictures, but I gotta journal this trip!
So a few weeks ago, my dad and I were lamenting on the phone about how much I miss Connecticut, and how much I can't wait for next summer to visit. We'd been talking about my driving instead of flying, for several reasons. The main reason is that I really want to provide adventurous experiences for my kids. We used to drive to Texas every year to see my dad's family, and I have such fun memories of doing that. Granted, the road between Connecticut and Texas is markedly shorter than the one stretching east to Connecticut from our front door. However, we were discussing it. My dad had recently returned from his own recent road trip to Texas to see his family, participate in a family reunion, try out that new back of his (he's been in constant pain for YEARS and just had surgery a few months ago), and have some serious bonding time with his beloved Sport Track. Well, he said to me, "what if I drove out and picked you guys up, drove back here?"
silence (well, a few days of serious pros/cons list-making and mental shenanigans on my part)
"Let's do it!"
So, on Monday morning at about 5:30 AM, the Sport Track began its trip East. In the front were a "what did I sign myself up for" Grandpa, a "I must be crazy" Mom and two fully-charged cell phones. In the back were the three bounciest, most excited and wide-eyed kiddos ever.
It took us two full days of driving, one overnight motel stay somewhere just west of Des Moines, Iowa, and about 12 diet Dr. Peppers and as many Cokes, but we made it! We rolled up to the awaiting beach house and its resident sleepy-eyed, bed-headed Grandma at about 4 AM on Wednesday. What follows are the highlights (in Top Ten format) of our trip. There were many, and I've had to be brutal in selecting the list:
10. Are we there yet? I had to start with a classic. No road trip is complete without this much uttered phrase and ours was no different. However, we didn't hear it the first day. Just every 10 minutes on day two. The question took a few different forms: Are we getting closer? Yes. Will we be there soon? Depends on your frame of reference. Soon to me? yep. Soon to them? probably not as soon as they'd like, ya know? The nice thing was that they weren't whiny about it. They actually traveled really really well. I credit a healthy respect for The Road Trip and the casual "It'll be fine" attitude on the part of both adults as well as the portable DVD player and bag-o-snacks. I'm really quite proud of them. But no, we weren't there yet.
9. The Tunnel. Shortly after our departure (in the Evanston, Wyoming vicinity) we had the luxury of traveling through a tunnel. It was somewhat brief, but being a rare treat on a road trip, it must not be trivialized. It was both enjoyed and appreciated. Once through, the request was submitted for another go. Sadly, it was refused. "We'll catch it on the way home," I offered to the disappointed children. I omitted the part where they'll probably be asleep from my assurance.
8. Bargaining. You know the five stages of grief? Denial, bargaining, anger, depression, and acceptance? Well, we dealt with some of them on this trip. I'd like for just a paragraph, to focus on one: bargaining. We had been in the car about a third of the whole trip. Like I mentioned before, there was hardly any complaining on day one (other than "Rhett is kicking me" or "I'm foostee" which is Carsonese for "I'm thirsty" and I don't really call that complaining). So I wasn't too surprised when after the novelty of The Road Trip began to wear off a little, Carson requested that we go home. "I want to go home." This (as you will later read) mostly had to do with pooping. He needed to go, but doesn't like the automatic flushing toilets. So, according to his logic, we could go home, he could poop, and we could drive back again to where we currently were (Eastern Nebraska). Piece of cake, ya? A few minutes passed and he asked "Hey Papa Foof, wanna see my chickens? Wanna go feed my chickens?" He'd figured out Papa Foof's money and was going for the gold. Great idea, but it didn't quite work. I think he'll be a great negotiator someday.
7. My midnight snack. While we're sort of on the subject of poo, I'll share a little funny. We were driving late late late on Tuesday through the dark rainy mountains of Pennsylvania. It was my turn to drive so when we stopped for gas, I grabbed a fresh diet Pepsi fountain drink(no diet Dr Pepper on tap anywhere here-dang it) and a nice little bag of Reese's Pieces to go. We were barreling down the highway when my father informed me that he calls them Reese's Feces. Nice. But funny enough to make my top ten.
6. The Bates Motel. Okay, so that's not really where we stayed, but to Carson, might as well have been. The hour or two preceding the stop was filled with questions about when we were going to go to the hotel. So they were pretty excited and relieved that we were finally there. It was a small motel, and good enough for 5 to 6 hours of sleep, but I wasn't in love with it either. But, hopeful for rest and a nice potty stop, Carson grabbed his beloved pillow and bounced happily across the parking lot, through the door, and down the hallway. As soon as we walked through the door, saw the two queen beds, saw my pillow and Annie and Rhett on bed #2, looked at Papa Foof and did the math, he looked back and forth a few times, up at me, and said, "I don't like this place. " He then paced slowly around the room muttering to himself, "I don't like this place." Poor Papa Foof. Or lucky Papa Foof, depending on how you look at it. This leads me to number 5.
5. Sleeping Family Style. Because we needed our rest, my "what Mom say goes" policy was tossed out the window in favor of the new temporary travel policy which states "I'd rather my dad and I get some sleep so we don't die at the wheel tomorrow." So I had Rhett between me and Annie, Carson at our feet, and Papa Foof stretched out comfortably on his queen-bed-for-one. The four of us tossed and turned (and Rhett had to be placed back down on his tummy about 35 times once he figured that the picture above the bed wasn't super-glued to the wall) for what seemed an eternity but was probably no more than a half hour. Then we were out.
4. Arby's: The Grasshopper and the Snake. This was possibly my least favorite moment on the trip. We were trying to outrun a thunderstorm and make good time, but the natives were getting a little restless, so rather than grab dinner on-the-go, we decided to let them out of the car and eat inside the only food place available: Arby's. I'm not knocking Arby's, it's just not the easiest fast food for kids. So, I was getting drinks and holding Rhett and asked my dad to take Annie and Carson and find a table. I was on the other side of the partition when I heard wild laughter and saw my father's stern face. Carson was hopping up and down on the chairs and Annie was slithering through the area between the tables and the benches. We both later agreed that they needed to blow off some steam, but it didn't necessarily need to be an Oscar-worthy performance. They had the attention of every person in that entire place. We were a little embarrassed to say the least (even though I think both my kids are highly entertaining, I don't want perfect strangers thinking for even a moment that I normally allow such antics in public or don't discipline my kids). And then for the next hour, I was overcome with guilt about chewing them out and being impatient with them (all for the sake of defending my competent parent status) when they really had been so good all day. sigh.
3. Oatmeals. Carson was absolutely delighted, to say the least, by the sight of hundreds of windmills dotting the landscape from Wyoming as far east as Ohio (I think). The first time he shrieked "LOOK AT THE OATMEALS!!!!" and pointed furiously out the window, I laughed. I don't know where he got "oatmeals" from, but that's what he continued to call them even after I pronounced "windmill" for him over and over. It's cute I guess. It was so funny. He would point them out (sometimes they were really far off in the distance) and he'd ask: Will we pass by those? His follow up question was so mature, so well spoken. Yet he called them "oatmeals." A couple of times we got to see them really close. They are huge. Pretty cool.
2. New York City. I won't give it top status, because as I mentioned before, the experiences make the journey, but I can't deny the importance of the destination. Since I was a little girl riding in the car to and from Texas or Utah or wherever, and even more as a college student flying into La Guardia after every semester of college or grad school, there is nothing quite like the lights of The City when you are coming home. I know my parents' house is another 40 minutes past NYC, but for me, it has always signified that I'm finally home. It's minutes from the Welcome to Connecticut sign, but it thrills me every time. I woke Annie and Carson up to see it because when we head back, it will be light and I didn't want them to miss that sight. We crossed the GW bridge (they've never been on a bridge like that) and they were in awe. Annie looked out her window and asked, "is that where Uncle Abe and Aunt Kate live?" (the whole city). Yes, they live over there! Later, when I asked what her favorite part of the trip was, she said, "New York City." I absolutely agree! Carson, no surprise here, said, "the oatmeals!" Rhett just sucked his thumb and smiled.
1. Urination On-the-Go. This is inevitably a part of any lengthy road trip. Especially when said lengthy road trip involves the diapered or recently potty-trained. Our potty tales began in the mountains of Wyoming, when Carson suddenly "had to pee." The dynamic wiggling of his legs indicated it was pretty imminent. Luckily, there was a scenic area pull-out in the median of the highway. Unfortunately for those of us (me) standing by to guard against "peeping" and the youngster being clipped by a passing vehicle, there was A LOT of wind. This turned out to be most fortunate, however, for the 3-year-old who now thinks he's got great game when it comes to range. I must say, it was pretty impressive. The potty tales continued a few hours later when he indicated he had to up the ante and go number two (heck, I'm just going to say it: he had to poo). I told him we'd stop in a minute, could he hold it? To which he replied, "No! I want to go home to poop!" I explained to him that my option would bring him the most speedy relief and that going back home just wasn't practical, and he had it all figured out: "I know! How about we drive home, I'll go potty, and then we can drive back here!" If only it worked that way. . .
We're still not done: Later, we found ourselves in Nebraska, great state of endless cornfields. Carson once again announced that he needed to go. Now. There was a rest area about 10 miles away and I asked him if he could wait. Sure enough. We pulled over, unbuckled him, and I stood there holding out my hand for him to hold and walk toward the building when to my shock and horror, he (in perfect nightmare slow-motion) ran over to the middle of the grassy area and in front of everyone, dropped trou right there, smack dab in the middle of Nebraska. Classic. If his little cheeks weren't so cute, I might have been traumatized. But fortunately, it was there in that very spot, the slight humor of the situation inspired me to take notes so that I could provide this very top ten.
Our fourth and final urination dictation involves this son once more. And how he duped not only his somewhat intelligent mother, but also his grandfather, who once prided himself on being able to solve any mystery, outwit any would-be sneakster. So there we were enjoying a calm stretch of quiet road: Rhett was sleeping, Annie was reading, and Carson was playing with his cars. One of them fell down, and because we couldn't possibly stop every five seconds, I told him to wait a few minutes and I would lean over the seat and see if I could find it. A few minutes passed and I sort of forgot about the car. " I HAVE TO PEE!" he exclaimed, accompanied by the wiggling and bouncing tell-tale signs of approaching urge. So we pulled over as best we could and I helped him out of his seat and got him ready. And waited. And waited. And waited. "I don't have to go anymow." "Are you SURE?" I questioned with that tone that suggests the rest of the sentence. . . ('cause we're not stopping again!) He was sure and we turned so he could climb back up into his chair. "Wait! Let me get my car." My dad started laughing. "We've been duped," he chuckled. Carson never did have to pee. He just wanted us to stop so he could retrieve his beloved toy. He's only 3.
Well, there you have it. The joys of vehicular travel with the Droubay children. Stay tuned, there will be more from this trip! We miss everyone!!!!
So a few weeks ago, my dad and I were lamenting on the phone about how much I miss Connecticut, and how much I can't wait for next summer to visit. We'd been talking about my driving instead of flying, for several reasons. The main reason is that I really want to provide adventurous experiences for my kids. We used to drive to Texas every year to see my dad's family, and I have such fun memories of doing that. Granted, the road between Connecticut and Texas is markedly shorter than the one stretching east to Connecticut from our front door. However, we were discussing it. My dad had recently returned from his own recent road trip to Texas to see his family, participate in a family reunion, try out that new back of his (he's been in constant pain for YEARS and just had surgery a few months ago), and have some serious bonding time with his beloved Sport Track. Well, he said to me, "what if I drove out and picked you guys up, drove back here?"
silence (well, a few days of serious pros/cons list-making and mental shenanigans on my part)
"Let's do it!"
So, on Monday morning at about 5:30 AM, the Sport Track began its trip East. In the front were a "what did I sign myself up for" Grandpa, a "I must be crazy" Mom and two fully-charged cell phones. In the back were the three bounciest, most excited and wide-eyed kiddos ever.
It took us two full days of driving, one overnight motel stay somewhere just west of Des Moines, Iowa, and about 12 diet Dr. Peppers and as many Cokes, but we made it! We rolled up to the awaiting beach house and its resident sleepy-eyed, bed-headed Grandma at about 4 AM on Wednesday. What follows are the highlights (in Top Ten format) of our trip. There were many, and I've had to be brutal in selecting the list:
10. Are we there yet? I had to start with a classic. No road trip is complete without this much uttered phrase and ours was no different. However, we didn't hear it the first day. Just every 10 minutes on day two. The question took a few different forms: Are we getting closer? Yes. Will we be there soon? Depends on your frame of reference. Soon to me? yep. Soon to them? probably not as soon as they'd like, ya know? The nice thing was that they weren't whiny about it. They actually traveled really really well. I credit a healthy respect for The Road Trip and the casual "It'll be fine" attitude on the part of both adults as well as the portable DVD player and bag-o-snacks. I'm really quite proud of them. But no, we weren't there yet.
9. The Tunnel. Shortly after our departure (in the Evanston, Wyoming vicinity) we had the luxury of traveling through a tunnel. It was somewhat brief, but being a rare treat on a road trip, it must not be trivialized. It was both enjoyed and appreciated. Once through, the request was submitted for another go. Sadly, it was refused. "We'll catch it on the way home," I offered to the disappointed children. I omitted the part where they'll probably be asleep from my assurance.
8. Bargaining. You know the five stages of grief? Denial, bargaining, anger, depression, and acceptance? Well, we dealt with some of them on this trip. I'd like for just a paragraph, to focus on one: bargaining. We had been in the car about a third of the whole trip. Like I mentioned before, there was hardly any complaining on day one (other than "Rhett is kicking me" or "I'm foostee" which is Carsonese for "I'm thirsty" and I don't really call that complaining). So I wasn't too surprised when after the novelty of The Road Trip began to wear off a little, Carson requested that we go home. "I want to go home." This (as you will later read) mostly had to do with pooping. He needed to go, but doesn't like the automatic flushing toilets. So, according to his logic, we could go home, he could poop, and we could drive back again to where we currently were (Eastern Nebraska). Piece of cake, ya? A few minutes passed and he asked "Hey Papa Foof, wanna see my chickens? Wanna go feed my chickens?" He'd figured out Papa Foof's money and was going for the gold. Great idea, but it didn't quite work. I think he'll be a great negotiator someday.
7. My midnight snack. While we're sort of on the subject of poo, I'll share a little funny. We were driving late late late on Tuesday through the dark rainy mountains of Pennsylvania. It was my turn to drive so when we stopped for gas, I grabbed a fresh diet Pepsi fountain drink(no diet Dr Pepper on tap anywhere here-dang it) and a nice little bag of Reese's Pieces to go. We were barreling down the highway when my father informed me that he calls them Reese's Feces. Nice. But funny enough to make my top ten.
6. The Bates Motel. Okay, so that's not really where we stayed, but to Carson, might as well have been. The hour or two preceding the stop was filled with questions about when we were going to go to the hotel. So they were pretty excited and relieved that we were finally there. It was a small motel, and good enough for 5 to 6 hours of sleep, but I wasn't in love with it either. But, hopeful for rest and a nice potty stop, Carson grabbed his beloved pillow and bounced happily across the parking lot, through the door, and down the hallway. As soon as we walked through the door, saw the two queen beds, saw my pillow and Annie and Rhett on bed #2, looked at Papa Foof and did the math, he looked back and forth a few times, up at me, and said, "I don't like this place. " He then paced slowly around the room muttering to himself, "I don't like this place." Poor Papa Foof. Or lucky Papa Foof, depending on how you look at it. This leads me to number 5.
5. Sleeping Family Style. Because we needed our rest, my "what Mom say goes" policy was tossed out the window in favor of the new temporary travel policy which states "I'd rather my dad and I get some sleep so we don't die at the wheel tomorrow." So I had Rhett between me and Annie, Carson at our feet, and Papa Foof stretched out comfortably on his queen-bed-for-one. The four of us tossed and turned (and Rhett had to be placed back down on his tummy about 35 times once he figured that the picture above the bed wasn't super-glued to the wall) for what seemed an eternity but was probably no more than a half hour. Then we were out.
4. Arby's: The Grasshopper and the Snake. This was possibly my least favorite moment on the trip. We were trying to outrun a thunderstorm and make good time, but the natives were getting a little restless, so rather than grab dinner on-the-go, we decided to let them out of the car and eat inside the only food place available: Arby's. I'm not knocking Arby's, it's just not the easiest fast food for kids. So, I was getting drinks and holding Rhett and asked my dad to take Annie and Carson and find a table. I was on the other side of the partition when I heard wild laughter and saw my father's stern face. Carson was hopping up and down on the chairs and Annie was slithering through the area between the tables and the benches. We both later agreed that they needed to blow off some steam, but it didn't necessarily need to be an Oscar-worthy performance. They had the attention of every person in that entire place. We were a little embarrassed to say the least (even though I think both my kids are highly entertaining, I don't want perfect strangers thinking for even a moment that I normally allow such antics in public or don't discipline my kids). And then for the next hour, I was overcome with guilt about chewing them out and being impatient with them (all for the sake of defending my competent parent status) when they really had been so good all day. sigh.
3. Oatmeals. Carson was absolutely delighted, to say the least, by the sight of hundreds of windmills dotting the landscape from Wyoming as far east as Ohio (I think). The first time he shrieked "LOOK AT THE OATMEALS!!!!" and pointed furiously out the window, I laughed. I don't know where he got "oatmeals" from, but that's what he continued to call them even after I pronounced "windmill" for him over and over. It's cute I guess. It was so funny. He would point them out (sometimes they were really far off in the distance) and he'd ask: Will we pass by those? His follow up question was so mature, so well spoken. Yet he called them "oatmeals." A couple of times we got to see them really close. They are huge. Pretty cool.
2. New York City. I won't give it top status, because as I mentioned before, the experiences make the journey, but I can't deny the importance of the destination. Since I was a little girl riding in the car to and from Texas or Utah or wherever, and even more as a college student flying into La Guardia after every semester of college or grad school, there is nothing quite like the lights of The City when you are coming home. I know my parents' house is another 40 minutes past NYC, but for me, it has always signified that I'm finally home. It's minutes from the Welcome to Connecticut sign, but it thrills me every time. I woke Annie and Carson up to see it because when we head back, it will be light and I didn't want them to miss that sight. We crossed the GW bridge (they've never been on a bridge like that) and they were in awe. Annie looked out her window and asked, "is that where Uncle Abe and Aunt Kate live?" (the whole city). Yes, they live over there! Later, when I asked what her favorite part of the trip was, she said, "New York City." I absolutely agree! Carson, no surprise here, said, "the oatmeals!" Rhett just sucked his thumb and smiled.
1. Urination On-the-Go. This is inevitably a part of any lengthy road trip. Especially when said lengthy road trip involves the diapered or recently potty-trained. Our potty tales began in the mountains of Wyoming, when Carson suddenly "had to pee." The dynamic wiggling of his legs indicated it was pretty imminent. Luckily, there was a scenic area pull-out in the median of the highway. Unfortunately for those of us (me) standing by to guard against "peeping" and the youngster being clipped by a passing vehicle, there was A LOT of wind. This turned out to be most fortunate, however, for the 3-year-old who now thinks he's got great game when it comes to range. I must say, it was pretty impressive. The potty tales continued a few hours later when he indicated he had to up the ante and go number two (heck, I'm just going to say it: he had to poo). I told him we'd stop in a minute, could he hold it? To which he replied, "No! I want to go home to poop!" I explained to him that my option would bring him the most speedy relief and that going back home just wasn't practical, and he had it all figured out: "I know! How about we drive home, I'll go potty, and then we can drive back here!" If only it worked that way. . .
We're still not done: Later, we found ourselves in Nebraska, great state of endless cornfields. Carson once again announced that he needed to go. Now. There was a rest area about 10 miles away and I asked him if he could wait. Sure enough. We pulled over, unbuckled him, and I stood there holding out my hand for him to hold and walk toward the building when to my shock and horror, he (in perfect nightmare slow-motion) ran over to the middle of the grassy area and in front of everyone, dropped trou right there, smack dab in the middle of Nebraska. Classic. If his little cheeks weren't so cute, I might have been traumatized. But fortunately, it was there in that very spot, the slight humor of the situation inspired me to take notes so that I could provide this very top ten.
Our fourth and final urination dictation involves this son once more. And how he duped not only his somewhat intelligent mother, but also his grandfather, who once prided himself on being able to solve any mystery, outwit any would-be sneakster. So there we were enjoying a calm stretch of quiet road: Rhett was sleeping, Annie was reading, and Carson was playing with his cars. One of them fell down, and because we couldn't possibly stop every five seconds, I told him to wait a few minutes and I would lean over the seat and see if I could find it. A few minutes passed and I sort of forgot about the car. " I HAVE TO PEE!" he exclaimed, accompanied by the wiggling and bouncing tell-tale signs of approaching urge. So we pulled over as best we could and I helped him out of his seat and got him ready. And waited. And waited. And waited. "I don't have to go anymow." "Are you SURE?" I questioned with that tone that suggests the rest of the sentence. . . ('cause we're not stopping again!) He was sure and we turned so he could climb back up into his chair. "Wait! Let me get my car." My dad started laughing. "We've been duped," he chuckled. Carson never did have to pee. He just wanted us to stop so he could retrieve his beloved toy. He's only 3.
Well, there you have it. The joys of vehicular travel with the Droubay children. Stay tuned, there will be more from this trip! We miss everyone!!!!
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