And It Is Done

Maybe we love traveling. Maybe we love having our children no more than two feet away at all times. I only know that as we drove through the nation, we were compelled to stop and stare at the breathtaking view more often than was logical.

Driving through Colorado was my favorite. Seriously. Everywhere I turned my eyes looked like a postcard. Not fair, Colorado. Not fair.

So we took a half day out of our "drive like the wind" schedule and went white water rafting. We were unprepared for this decision, and showed up in an odd assortment of clothing mixed with swimming gear. Riding a river through the mountains is even more breathtaking than driving through it at top speed, and our mouths were hanging open through most of the ride, which is how we ended up swallowing gallons of the Colorado River to bring home with us. We rode the river like Viking warriors. Until we reached the rapids. Then we rode the river like tourists who had never experienced rapids before. The rapids bossed us around, and only a couple of us managed to stay in the boat. Awesome!

We found ourselves soaked and much too exhausted to unstrap the luggage from the top of the Jeep. I voted that we build ourselves a house and stay forever, but, instead, we got our soggy selves into the Jeep and dripped until we crossed out of Colorado. I shed a tear and wiped it away with my pruny, wrinkly, finger.

As sad as it was to face the end of our trip, there is no better feeling than driving into your own driveway. Our dogs were waiting to tackle us, and Drake opened the door and ran to them before the Jeep had stopped moving.

Driving mostly involves sitting, but, for some unknown reason, it makes me so tired I turn into a lunatic. I've rarely been so excited as when I walked to my bed and climbed in. I slept as if my body had been petrified, and found it almost impossible to wake up in the morning. Which is why it is not my fault than when Mike tried to wake me up I told him, "You should be all the prepositions." He had no response to that, and I got to sleep an extra hour. And, since I don't remember the event happening, I do not feel that it should be held against me in the future. Amen.

Ocean!

I love the ocean. I was made to be near the ocean. When I hear the sound of waves and taste the salt, my heart swells with happiness and I feel like I am home.

I live in Iowa. It is a cruel twist of fate. I suffer.

That is one of the many reasons that I look forward to vacations with an unreasonable amount of excitement. Thankfully, God gave me children that also love the ocean, so I'm not being entirely selfish when I force them to spend endless hours jumping waves and lying in the sand.

This absurd love of all things beachy is what caused us to drive two more hours to San Diego. We laid in the sun, hopped waves, fought with seaweed that seemed determined to wrap its slimy self around our ankles, spent five dollars on a drink, and considered ourselves lucky. We stayed as long as possible and left sunburned and tired. We felt as if we had spent the day baptizing ourselves in holy water.

We are from Iowa. We don't see waves often. It makes us giddy.

Chocolate in The Sun

            We did it. We returned cans, sold lemonade, emptied piggy banks, scoured the couch for change, and are currently crammed inside the Jeep Commander en route to Palm Desert. Probably the hottest place in the country currently.

            Six people in a Jeep is about four people too many. And 26 hours in a Jeep is about 25 hours too many. However, we strapped our luggage to the roof, got cozy, watched about ten movies, and drove like someone was chasing us.

            By the way, it is a bad idea to stuff a suitcase full of food for the road and then strap it to the top of your car. Especially if some of that food includes chocolatey surprises for your children, and you happen to be driving through a place called Death Valley. You might find yourself reaching for the suitcase only to notice goo oozing out of the zipper. When anticipating a yummy experience, the last thing you want to encounter is a melty mess. It is not easy to cleanse your suitcase from its chocolate bath while at a rest area.

          
        We have walked in a waterfall, hiked on a mountain, driven through valleys, laughed together, snapped angrily at one another, slept in positions not recommended, and now we are nearly there. We are sore, tired, and smelly. And, we couldn’t be having more fun. It is vacation.

Skirts and Mopeds

I'm pretty sure the maker of the skirt didn't intend for the garment to be worn while mopeding. There are some serious design flaws pertaining to that particular combination. I'm sure this seems like obvious information, but sometimes I only notice the obvious stuff long after it is no longer helpful.

See, things are a bit nuts. We've been looking forward to a vacation to California all summer long, but because of some unexpected things that went down at work, we had to call the trip off. Telling four kids that their vacation is canceled is pretty much the worst thing a parent can do if they have any hope of smiling ever again. This discussion led to a lot of depression and devastation and then to a lot of fund raising ideas. That is why the kids have been trying valiantly to ignore the blazing heat and talk their friends into sitting for hours selling lemonade. They've also been collecting cans and raiding their piggy banks.

During all this fun, Drake has managed to break out in poison ivy from his neck to his toes. Every time I see him, I just wish I had a marker because he would make one great game of dot-to-dots. A trip to the doctor and three medications later, he developed pink eye.

Trying to rescue a vacation four days before the intended departure date takes an amazing amount of time. Trying to squeeze in doctor visits, pharmacy visits, and endless spreading of ointment makes a person feel like laying on the kitchen floor in a catatonic bliss. Probably. Not that I know or ever did that.

So when the eye drops were ready, I picked myself up off of the floor...I mean away from the pie I was making... and hopped on the moped to speed off to the pharmacy and save the day. When it is 104 degrees, attempting to do anything outside will cause instant heat stroke, immense amounts of sweating, and a lot of complaining. But, a ride on the moped actually feels pretty nice. I soaked in the quiet and enjoyed the wind. I took a few deep breaths and actually felt nice. Too nice. I felt a moment of pure alarm as I felt the sensation of rushing air where it should not be.

I've already discussed my lack of grace on moving articles of transportation. Trying to drive with one hand while the other hand held down my skirt seemed like asking for danger to come slap me in the face. So I enjoyed the cool sensation.


I'm not sure if it is a hint or not, but when I entered my kitchen I noticed my moped key.

Broken.

This is not over.

A Good Way to Repel Mosquitoes

A few years ago I went camping against my will. The humidity was high and the mosquitoes were thick. We did twice the amount of work we do when we are at home. I'm still mad. We took Mike's mom and dad because we figured it would be like returning to their childhood before the inventions of modern air conditioning, electricity, and the wheel. We are thoughtful like that.

We took them and our children eight hours away to a crystal clear lake on the border of Canada. We stayed in a contraption called a yert. Yes, a yert. A yert is a permanent circular structure made out of tent material. Inside were five bunk beds and a table. No bathroom. No kitchen. No couch. No microwave. No happiness. It was, however, apparently in the middle of a mosquito farm.

We fished by day and played cards by night. All in all, we were blessed with gorgeous weather, stunning scenery, special moments together, and lots of family bonding. Except for that one moment that I still get criticized for when Mike's mom tried to climb into her top bunk in her nightgown and couldn't quite make it and got her arm stuck between the mattress and the bed frame while suspended helplessly in the air violently kicking her feet in a mad attempt to gain momentum, and, instead of helping, I just video taped her. I still think I made the right call on that.

One morning, Josiah was rolling out of bed when his grandpa told him, "Hey, Josiah, do you know that you toot in your sleep?" He had to say toot because he is a g rated grandpa.

"Are you sure, Grandpa?" Josiah asked skeptically.
"I'm sure," Grandpa confirmed. "You toot all night long and really loud too."
"I can't believe that. I fart in my sleep?" Josiah is not g rated.
"It is true."
"That is so AWESOME!! I have to go tell Drake!"

To Grandpa's surprise, Josiah ran out of the yert and was heard explaining the exciting news to Drake.

"Wait," Drake responded. "Do you mean you fart really loud all night long?"
"Yep!"
"You are so lucky!"

I wasn't sure that this outcome had been what Grandpa had originally intended and was wondering if I should intervene when Emery looked up at me and said in her baby voice, "Mom, the ways of boys are strange. Don't try to mess with it; it just makes it worse."

Motorcycles and Groceries

I fell in love with my husband while on the back of his motorcycle. It was summertime and we were home from our different colleges just wasting time until the new semester started. None of our old friends had returned, and my best friend, Lori, was practicing being a siamese twin with her boyfriend.

Mike taught sailing lessons at a lake and rode a motorcycle. I thought he was fascinating.

We rode all around town for countless hours on that motorcycle. By the end of summer, I didn't know it, but I was in love.

Four kids and a mortgage later, we still love to ride around on the motorcycle. I think we like it so much because we can pretend that we are still those carefree college kids we used to be. We can pretend we don't have dishes stacked in the sink and bills stacked on the desk. We can pretend that the kids are merely cute, not future citizens whose lives we are shaping.

But, it doesn't always work out the best. The last time we took a long ride, the day was glorious. It was sunny and the warm wind blew all my troubles away. We rode for a long time and felt like adventurers discovering places we had never been before. Then we decided to stop by the store and pick up some bread. However, I saw that barbeque sauce was substantially marked down. I got four bottles. Then I remembered we needed a gallon of milk. And juice. And I kept seeing reduced prices on all the kid's favorite foods.

Seven. We bought seven bags of groceries. We got onto the motorcycle and drove through the pick up lane. The helpful man who was paid to load groceries into cars looked at us kind of crooked, so I told him to just load the bags onto our arms. With seven bags of heavy groceries balancing in odd places, we rode home to our dishes and bills.

Oh Yes I Did

I love my bike. I love to ride my bike. I am a terrible bike rider.

If I lived in a place where biking was the main means of transportation, I would be happy. I love to feel the wind in my face, I love to be in nature, I even love working to get where I am going. I love everything about it. 

I have no grace when I am on my bike. I can't hop curbs on my bike. I fall. I can't turn sharp corners on my bike. I fall. I don't like riding next to anyone. I am afraid I'll fall. I only feel really confident when I am alone on a wide, flat area. I can't remember that scenario ever happening.

A couple months ago my kids bought a moped. I think I love the moped. I told my husband I was going to learn to drive it. He encouragingly responded, "Oh for the love of God, please stay off that thing!" With that kind of support, how could I stay away from it?

When he was at work, I heard the moped call to me. I took the key and sat on the moped. Emery saw me in the driveway and said, "MOM! You should definitely never ride that!" It was OK because I couldn't figure out how to start the thing. It is apparently dummy proofed. 

I figured out the trick to starting it, and the next day I grabbed the key to the moped and headed out the door. Just before I closed the door, I heard Makenna say, "Oh Dear!" My family believes in me. Feeling all warm and fuzzy, I sat on the moped. I started her up. I practiced going and stopping a bit in the driveway, and I liked it. With a huge smile, I took off into my street. I revved her up and flew like the wind. Four houses later, my heart seized up in panic as my speed had increased to a ludicrous 30 mph, and I squeezed on the brakes and stopped like nobody has ever stopped before. 

But then I took some deep breaths and eased back into a forward motion. I eventually reached a corner, and the panic of needing to turn almost did me in. I looked in every direction and was very assured that nobody was anywhere near me. So I breathed deeply and found the button for the turn signal. I signaled, looked both ways, and, oh yes, I turned. I didn't fall. After that nothing could stop me, and me and my moped conquered the streets of my neighborhood.

Today I am riding my moped to Target. 

So, basically, I'm a mopeder. I moped.

Sharks

Emery has always been a bit timid. She was scared of the dark, scared of movies, and terrified of riding a bike.

So, when we went to a water park a few years ago, I thought that she would hang out in the kiddie area with me all day while the older three kids tackled the water slides. But, to my surprise, she grabbed a tube for the slides and got into line. After several warnings that at the end of the line was a SLIDE and she if she continued in the line she would go DOWN it, she insisted that she knew what she was doing and, with great focus of mind, stood her ground.

I stood at the bottom of the slide ready to comfort my wailing child when she exited the catching pool, but she came out of the water with a smile and said, "That was better than I thought! Now that I know there are no sharks in the water, I want to go again!"

I was proud of her, but at the same time very concerned about what she had been thinking at the top of the slide. I can just imagine her standing there thinking, "Well, there are probably sharks in this water so sliding down here is a big risk. But, I am willing to do it!" Somehow in her mind, she had decided that going down this slide was worth risking a shark attack.

I am either terrified of the risks she deems worthy of attempting, or astounded at her bravery. I'm not sure which.

J Lo

Marriage is a complicated and strange arrangement. If being married was a job, I think it would be the highest paying occupation on the planet because so few people are really good at it. That is because weird things happen, and the other person is left to deal with it. We expect them to do it well, but they have no manual and are purely winging it.

 One time I had a dream that my husband went on vacation to Hawaii without me, and I was so mad at him when I woke up that I barely spoke to him all day. I realized that it had all been a dream when he said, "I have absolutely no idea what on earth you are talking about!" It's just that realizing it had been a dream did not take away the anger. Somehow, I ended up receiving flowers out of the whole deal, so everything was fine.

So, I wasn't surprised when I had another weird dream a few nights ago. In my dream my husband and I, together, married Jennifer Lopez. Yep.

And that wasn't the weird part. I stood in a field of daisies wondering how I had ever been talked into agreeing to such an arrangement when the thought hit me, "If I am married to Jennifer Lopez, I can probably travel around with her and go to concerts!" Then I felt better.

So, apparently, Dream Me is very open-minded as long as I am allowed to travel to fun places. Dream Me can be bought with good times. I am very concerned about Dream Me.