New Jersey, The Big Apple, and a tummy bug...

  After two days on the road with two little ones, our friend's home was a very welcome sight.  As we pulled into Chris and Emily's driveway, I breathed a sigh of relief.  Home away from home, at least for four to five days.  We had a lovely evening briefly catching up, and making plans for the next day.  We decided to take it easy, hit a few local sights, and save the big city for Friday and Saturday.  The Bryan family retired to the upstairs of the home, and all attempted to get a little sleep before our big vacation really got started.

   The next day was spent outside at Van Saun Park.  Sandra had already informed me that it was a great family friendly sight in NJ, and luckily, it was only 15 minutes from where we were staying.  Chris had graciously taken a few days off from work to be our tour guide and was ready to head out first thing.  I was still in shock, looking for a coffee pot.  Molly and Colin do not make great sleeping buddies to say the least.  If I get out with only a few bruises and a concussion after sharing a bed with them, I count myself lucky.  Of course, for some  reason, we traveled 900 miles north, but the Georgia heat followed us.  The temp outside was expected to reach triple digits while we were in town.  Awesome, perfect sight seeing weather.  We load into the car, and I pry myself between the two car seats in the back.  I am unable to get to the seat belt, but sadly, I think I will be fine.  If we are in an accident, there is no way that I will be thrown from the vehicle.  My shoulder and right breast are wedged behind Molly's car seat so tightly, I am wondering if I will be able to get back out.  Our first stop was an awesome playground.  Of course, due to the temp, the kids only played for a few minutes before complaining that the slides and bars were "too hot."  We decide to head into the Bergen County Zoo.  The kids had a blast checking out the animals, playing in the sprinklers, and simply chasing each other around.

   That evening, we visited a local restaurant famous for their giant pancakes.  The food was indeed giant and yummy.  That was actually the child sized pancake that Colin was attempting to eat in the above photograph.

  By the end of the day, Molly was starting to get kind of fussy, but I didn't think too much about it.  By that night, she had a fever of 103. I gave her Motrin, and hoped that our day in the city would not be ruined by a sick child.  In the morning, Molly still was not herself, but I thought we could give NYC a shot.  With a drugged Molly, 95+degree temps, and our fabulous tour guides in tow, we hit the city.  We drove about 20 minutes to a train station, caught a train into the city, and then used the subway and our feet to get around the rest of the day.  We grabbed some New York Pizza on the run, made our way to Times Square, ventured into a giant Toys R Us, and we were marveled by all of the sights and sounds around us.  The kids looked overwhelmed to say the least.  Neither one of them made a single attempt to get out of the stroller. We all know that is highly unusual at the age of 3 and 4 y/o.  For once, Molly seemed to have an appropriate fear of her surroundings...or maybe it was just the lingering fever and the illness still to come.  We took the subway over to The Museum of Natural History and Central Park, but a huge thunderstorm came out of no where.  The storm passed relatively quickly, but Molly had hit her breaking point.  She was snuggly, and getting warmer by the minute.  I decided we needed to call it a day.  We had plans to return to Central Park the next day to meet friends that live in the city, so I consoled myself with the fact that we would be back soon enough.

   That night, the vomiting started.  Molly was sick as a dog, and Colin had a very mild temp as well.  I spent the entire night huddled in a "sick bed" with my pitiful daughter.  When I asked her if anything hurt, she said "yes Mommy, everything...just be with me please."  My heart broke for sweet little girl.  Tummy bugs are the worst. I attempted to keep our sick, contaminated children away from Chris and Emily's two small babies.  They have twins.  Quinn and Avery, who are 11 month old girls.  It was bad enough my daughter was throwing up all over their towels, the last thing they needed was for me to share the viral love with their little ones.  Luckily, Molly was more than happy to stay upstairs, hug pink wankie, and watch TV.  Colin's fever seemed to pass without much fanfare at all.  I was incredibly grateful that the vomiting was limited to one child.  We had to cancel our second day in NYC, but by the evening, Molly perked up enough to have few bites of dinner, and then she went back upstairs to "rest" some more.  It was her quickest recovery from a stomach bug ever.  Only 24 hours of vomiting...not bad for my professional puker.  And, she only managed to yarf on their carpet one time.  Yarf...my new favorite word for vomiting.  Combination of barf and yak.  I think I made it up myself, but I am sure someone else has used it before.  Colin and the babies spent time playing in the water outside while Molly hung back and took it easy.  Something tells me the girls would like for Colin to get out of their pool :)  Not sure there was nearly enough room for him to join in the water play time.
  After a brief side trip to Nyack to see some extended family, it was time to think about heading home.  We seriously considered heading into the city to see some more sights, but due to a massive parade for PRIDE weekend, we decided it was just better to leave NYC for the next trip.  I just couldn't imagine attempting to navigate the city in those kinds of crowds.  Not to mention the inappropriate costumes and floats that I might have to explain to the kids...Sadly, it was nearing time to go back to Atlanta.  Of course, now that the temp had dropped back into the 70's and 80's.  I am still confused by some of the strange laws in NJ...For instance, it is against the law to pump your own gas.  When I asked Emily, a NJ native, "Why can't you pump your own gas?"  Her response "Well, because it is against the law." Again I ask "No, I get that it is against the law, but why is it against the law?"  Emily "Well, I don't know, it just is. It has been that way forever."  Strange...I asked Sandra when I got back to Georgia about it as well.  I got the exact same response...like I was the one that said something odd.  Oh well.  I am just going with that this southern girl just doesn't get it...I suppose I should be glad to let someone else pump my gas, but it just seemed odd.  Other than that, I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by people in the city.  I have lived in the South the majority of my life.  I have always been told to expect people to be rude, and unwilling to help, that Southern hospitality should not be expected up North, especially in NYC.  Not only did I find that people were willing to hold the doors on the train for my family, they offered helping hands to my kids, and frequently helped us lug our stroller onto the subway or train we were attempting to board.  More than once, some one put out a protective arm to keep my child or our stroller from crossing the street when it was unsafe.  This kind of stuff was not at all what I was expecting.  Just goes to show you that not everything you hear is true.
   We left Monday morning planning to drive the 900 miles straight through.  Needless to say, we stopped overnight in Blacksburg to see our friends Dave and Paul again.  It was just too much togetherness for this family.  We needed a break, and the boys had adopted a new puppy while we were in New Jersey.  After some puppy snuggles, a six pack of beer for the men, some chocolate for me, yet another "poop labor session" with Colin, and a slap happy Molly, we were able to get a little rest, and hit the road first thing in the morning.  The second  half of the trip was slightly better than the first half of the return trip.  At least we managed to avoid any "Code Browns" on the way home.  As I walked through my front door, I enjoyed the sights and smells of a fabulously clean home.  I had Anne come and clean while we were gone.  Best...Treat...Ever.  Sadly, it only lasted for a few hours with my crew around.  Today, I have already cooked two meals and messed up the kitchen, loaded the dishwasher and washed dishes twice, and the washer and dryer have been running since we came home.  The carpet is covered in toys and dog fur all over again.  But for a few brief moments...it was clean.  Now, it is time to head back into work for the weekend :( Actually, a shift at the hospital with an angry, laboring woman sounds much easier than 900 miles in the car with my kids...

Two toddlers, a dog, and 900 miles...

  In case you were wondering, I have been MIA due to a week long road trip with my family.  The family and I hit the road last Tuesday.  Destination, Fair Lawn, New Jersey.  We were off to spend time with some friends, and check out the Big Apple.  I have never been to NYC, well, outside of a quick airport stop.  I certainly have never seen the sights, per se.  We planned on stopping in Blacksburg, Virginia for a quick overnight to break up the trip, and also to see some other dear friends of ours.  I have to say, I really don't enjoy road trips.  I have fun once we get there, but nothing about sitting in a cramped car for hours, not being able to stretch out the way I would like, and sitting still for that long actually appeals to me in any shape or form.  And then we added the challenge of kids.  Kids add a whole new layer of torture to the equation.  Not only am I bored and completely ready to be where ever we are headed, I am in charge of convincing two little people that this is fun and keeping them entertained for hours on end.  Almost impossible.  especially when you take into account that the hubby and I have completely different attitudes about the kids and road trips.  No surprise there...Mike thinks the kids should watch the DVD player as little as possible.  In fact, the tablet and DVD player should only be used as a last resort.  The children should be eating healthy fruits and vegetables, and they should be completely content listening to his audio version of "The Economist," thank you very much...His argument, we never had movies in the car, we survived.  They should be able to entertain themselves.  Let's face it...if our parents had had the chance, they would have played movies for us in the car.  They only came up with license plate Bingo and stupid car songs out of desperation, and possibly because they were drinking heavily at the rest stops.  When I took the kids to Maryland to see my brother by myself, we watched movies whenever the kids wanted, ate their favorite snacks, and my head hurt so much less.  Not only does "The Economist" give me a headache, the whining that is caused by the children's extreme boredom does as well.  Car seats are the equivalent of baby jail.  It is actually torture for a 3 y/o and 4 y/o to sit still for 900+ miles.  They deserve some Dora the Explorer and Thomas the Train as escapism, in my humble opinion.  So, we try and meet in the middle.  There were times when the children were completely quiet and happy (while the DVD player was on), and times they whined until I thought my eardrums would explode (during Mike's forced Economist periods.)  No matter what, 900 miles is a long time to be in the car...all together...unable to escape from each other.

   Our first stop was very welcome.  Not only did we get to spend some time with our awesome friends Dave and Paul, but we were all able to escape the confines of our SUV for a several hours.  Paul took us out to the river where he works.  The area is beautiful, and the kids, both furry and not, were able to run around and burn off a little energy.  Abby, our family dog, discovered she is a water dog.  She had a blast wading through the water.  Sadly, I didn't quite plan for our side trip, and we spent the rest of the trip to NJ smelling the fabulous aroma of wet dog.  I couldn't complain.  Abby was by far the best behaved child the entire trip.
   Some where just outside of Hershey, Pennsylvania, it became obvious that it was time for yet another potty break.  Colin's legs started to twitch, and then he would kind of make this little whiny sound.  He never said he had to go, but we figured out that it usually stopped after we took him to the bathroom.  I took him inside the rest stop, and he began to freak out about the bathroom.  The poor kid has a horrible fear of public restrooms and the automatic flushing toilets.  After I finally convinced him that the potty "wasn't scary," and that I would wait to flush until he was out of the stall, I realized he had a skid mark in his underwear.  Fabulous...the kid needs to poop.  For any other kid, this would be no big deal, but for Colin, pooping is a huge production that must be performed in exactly the right setting.  He gets horribly constipated and it actually hurts him a great deal, so he puts it off as long as possible, which only aggravates the problem.  I wind up sitting in front of him, coaching him like a labor patient, counting, and begging him to push harder.  It actually borders on ridiculous at some points, but a mommy has to do, what a mommy has to do to get the job done.  He of course refuses to sit on the potty at the rest stop, no big surprise, but he agrees to give the "car potty" a chance.  I proceed to stand at the back of the SUV begging and bribing my son to poop, while Mike releases Molly and the dog for a few minutes of outside play time.  I have no idea exactly what happened, but as Molly rolled down the hill at the rest stop, Mike realized she was pushing poop out of her pull up from every direction.  Houston, we have a serious Code Brown situation, just outside of Hershey, Pennsylvania.  The irony was impossible to miss.  Mike snatches the diaper back pack out of the car, and takes Molly up the hill to a picnic table.  I am still on poop watch at the SUV.  All I can see in the distance is Mike stripping Molly completely, and using what appears to be every wipe in the bag to clean her up.  I venture over to take a peak at her car seat, only to discover poop all over her seat belt.  All I am wondering at this point was how he missed the giant pile of poop seeping out of our daughter.  We have now scared a family of 5 away from their play time on the hill, as well as horrified an older man in his car.  The older man continues to stare at me as if I have four heads as I continue to cheer my son on to a successful poop and my husband strips our daughter outside on a picnic table. After all of the pooping is completed and cleaned up, We all get back in the car, and finish the last couple of hours to NJ.
    We finally reach our destination, and we crawl into bed.  We make loose plans for hitting some NJ sites the next day, and NYC for the two days after that.  Until then, I may or may not have slipped my children some Benadryl and poured myself a glass of wine.  The rest of the story will be continued in the next blog post...Suffice it to say that more drama and adventures continued to unfold.
 

He can be taught...

Conversation on my way home from work the other night...
Me: "So, how did things go tonight?  Did the kids behave?"
Mike: "You know, the usual.  They laughed, they played, they destroyed.  The house is a wreck.  I am just now starting to clean up."
Me: "Wow, did they just fall asleep?"
Mike: "Not too long ago.  I just got out of the shower.  Let me go so I can get dressed."
Me: "Or, you could just stay that way until I get home..."
Mike: "Really?  Nah...I like my chances better if I actually finish the dishes, and I need to get dressed to do that."

Ladies...they can be taught.  Like Pavlov's dogs.  Do the dishes and clean up and you will be rewarded :)

Texts before the gym...

Monday morning, I roll over to check my phone for a text that has just come through...It's from Sandra

Sandra  "Quick, send help!"
(I assume the kids are giving her a rough time)
Me  "Oh my...I think I may give mine a sedative and hog tie them so they can't hit and kick each other.  They have been at it all morning"
Sandra  "Lol!!  Mine are fine, but I am a zombie.  Gonna get my blood pumping though...Still on for the gym at 10:15?"
Me  "Sure, I am a serious case of zombie land as well..."
Sandra  "Maybe we can drop them off at the kids place and then go for naps in the locker room??"
Me  "Do you think they would notice if I brought a pillow and a blanket??"
Sandra  "Lmao!!"
   Instead, we got a great workout, and then went for Mexican food : )  No judgement please...we even got a yummy grilled chicken and steak salad...And it is still better than not working out and going for Mexican, right??

How do you forget to eat?? Because I need to learn

  While Sandra and I were working our butts off on the elliptical, we began conversing about our day.  She had a play date earlier in the day with a friend with a little baby.  He is right at a year old.  They hit the pool together with all of the kids in tow.  We chatted briefly about how it went, and then Sandra says...

Sandra : "You know, she was in a bikini, and she looked fabulous.  Her son just turned a year old..."
Me:  (huffing and puffing on elliptical) "That bitch...I mean, good for her. What is her secret??"
Sandra:  "She says she has been working hard, but that she still has more to go.  I looked at her shocked.             She told me that she forgets to eat and that she doesn't have time to eat."
Me:  "Ahhh, one of those.  I NEVER forget to eat.  If I forget anything about eating, it is that I have already eaten, and then I do it again.  This morning was a perfect example.  I had a Nutra Grain bar, got the kids ready, poured my coffee, and made myself a bowl of cereal.  I didn't remember until halfway through the bowl that I had already eaten."
Sandra: "No matter how busy I am, I can always find time to eat."
Me: "In fact, that is when I make the worst choices.  I inhale food in a hurry, and then I eat something else, before I even realize I am full."
Sandra : "yep, same here."
Cue incredibly fit girl with massive, fake breasts in tiny gym clothes.  She struts by as we sit on the ab machines covered in sweat...
Me: "I think she forgot some of her clothes..."
Sandra: "I would have to agree..."
Me: "I bet she forgets to eat too..."
Sandra: "agreed..."

  I wish I dealt with stress by forgetting to eat...until then, back to LA Fitness.

Herding cats...I mean kids

   Getting my two children out the door is frequently akin to herding cats, or at least, what I imagine herding cats would be like.  Speaking as someone who was a cat owner first and a parent second, sometimes I can see the similarities.  I have flashes of attempting to put my cats in a carrier at times while strapping my kids into their car seats.  Molly even gets vicious at times, and uses her claws, just like a cat...A toddler on a leash also resembles a cat on a leash.  Not only do they look offended, but they will frequently refuse to move, and may even lay down on the ground.  My cat Oscar wanted to be an outside cat.  He wanted to go outside in the worst way, so I bought him a leash.  I tried multiple times, and it resulted in what could only be called a very large, angry, dust mop.  Molly, same thing...So as I am volunteering at Vacation Bible School this week, I am getting practice at herding other people's cats...I mean kids.  I have a group of four and five year olds that were assigned to me.  I am actually having tons of fun, and I am really enjoying myself.  I am just a "Camp Counselor."  I don't have to plan activities, or teach any lessons.  I am just there to herd them from activity to activity, provide encouragement and comfort, and keep an accurate head count.  It is quite the challenge at times.  My partner in crime, or co-counselor is in 7th grade. She is awesome and great with the kids.  I plan on getting her number if she babysits at all on the side.  But she is tiny...like really tiny.  I have had to physically rescue her from the attacks, all be it loving, but attacks still the same from our campers.  I think a few of the five year olds might be able to take her.  Molly has a doctor's appointment tomorrow, so I have to skip a day.  I am little worried for my tiny friend.
   My little friend and I agree on one thing for sure...the snack mommies are not the counselors.  The snacks are adorable.  They are cute. They go along with a short bible story, and the kids get to help prepare them.  Of course, for two days now, one of the main snack ingredients has been frosting.  Yep...frosting.  The first day, the kids created "Noah's ark" out of a rice crispie treat, smothered it in frosting (because marshmallow goo isn't sweet enough), and then topped it with animal crackers.  Today, we made an "ocean" with a graham cracker, covered it in blue icing, and sprinkled gummy fish on top.  Now lets just get something straight.  I NEVER complain about snacks.  I am laid back when it comes to food and my kids.  In fact, my husband thinks I am way too laid back. I consider chocolate milk and fruit loops a perfectly acceptable breakfast.  But even I am beginning to question the forethought put into this snack.  Yummy... fun... lesson appropriate, and yet, seemingly a graham cracker smeared with "kiddie crack" and topped with a side of sugary goodness.  Suffice it to say, within an hour, herding the cats becomes much more chaotic.  Not to mention the severe lack of a coffee station for the adult volunteers so that I can have some "adult crack" to keep up with them.   And then by the end of the day, the kids have bottomed out, and are tired and starving.  So, like I said, the snack planners...well, they don't have to lead the kids around the church while they are on their sugar high.  Oh well, no permanent damage done from yummy snacks.  I think I am just packing some cheese sticks and protein snacks for my little guys tomorrow.  Maybe I can balance out the sugar rush??
   So, I am blaming VBS for what happened earlier today.  I am really trying to take this training for the half marathon seriously.  I knocked out some decent times on the elliptical in the last few days, and I have started trying to jog outside.  And of course, after having a very reasonable turkey sandwich for lunch, the container of leftover frosting was calling my name.  It taunted me...it knew that I had already been tempted by frosting goodness earlier in the day.  I caved..I had two tablespoons of frosting...so I am blaming the church :) That's my story, and I am sticking to it.  Now, off to play Wii Sports Resort with my babies, and figure out how to repair a styrofoam jellyfish that Molly both made and destroyed in the same day.  In other words, just another day being Super Mom.

My son actually said "man boobies"

   Yes, yes you read that correctly...my four year old son said "man boobies" today.  His obsession with all things boobie continues.  He was sitting in my lap, snuggling.  Nothing unusual there.  Then, as his new obsession continues, he complimented my boobies.
Colin "Mommy, I like your boobies(he says as he pats them)"
Me "Well, thanks bud. But remember, you can hug mommy, and use them as pillows, but touching them in public is just a little odd.  And grabbing them is just rude..."
Colin "OK Mommy, your boobies are squishy."
Me "Yes they are little dude.  Now, lets talk about something else."
Colin "alright Mommy, what are these?? (lifts his shirt, points to his belly)"
Me "that's your tummy..."
Colin "no mommy, what are these? (points a little higher, but still on his tummy)"
Me  "that is just your belly little man, why?"
Colin "nope, those are my man boobies..."
   I just shake my head...what do you say to that?  And where did he learn that term?  I suppose there are much worse things he could call them, but seriously, man boobies??  I suppose he at least used it correctly...I mean, if they are going to curse or say something bad, it should at least be conjugated correctly and used in the appropriate context.