First I will tell you that my husband had business in Utah earlier in the week, so he flew out and planned for us to join him in a couple of days. The joining him part was my job.
It was also my job to schedule the floor guys for a final coat while we were away and ensure all scheduling of contractors and house checkers was done. (This was futile as it turns out because we came home to find that they had not done anything. I'll rant more about this later.)
4 a.m.
Go ahead, blink a few more times and read that purported time, again. I woke up at 4 a.m., without an alarm, after sleeping for a full 7 hours. Tylenol P.M. is the bomb. People who know me well will truly be shocked by my waking up and functioning this early in the morning. Hell, people who know me really well will assume this is both a guest blog entry and a guest driver.
Now that my boys weigh 50 pounds a piece there was not a chance that I would be carrying their slumbering bodies up a flight of stairs, through the door, down the garage steps, out to my death-by-incline driveway and buckling them into car seats. Instead I shook them awake from their camped-out positions on the sofa and ordered them to get dressed and get in the car.
While they giggled and squealed like it was Christmas morning I loaded two sacks of sewing orders into my car and the last of the bags and coats into the back. Once they loaded up I locked all the doors and said farewell to my little house on the corner.
4:40 a.m.
Make clandestine delivery to Cutie Petutie's warehouse before hitting the freeway, all the while Mason is chittin' and chattering about our adventure.
"Mama, is Utah close to the other side of the world?"
"No; it's just on the other side of Wyoming."
"Oh, that's not that close."
A mere moment of silence -- I think just enough for him to take a breath.
"Mama, just a reminder, are you going to set the timers?" This is in reference to the prize timer that I set on long road trips. Basically at timed intervals if my children have played quietly in the backseat and not fought with each other they both earn a prize. Usually a LEGO minifig or theater-sized box of candy. I tell them the interval is 1 hour, but it is actually 1:20. Will this ruin them for life?
"Hey mama, have you ever seen me shiver and fall asleep?"
"Nope. But I would really like to see that."
"Hey mama, I wish you wouldn't have told me we were going on vacation because then I couldn't sleep. Next time just wake me up and then tell me we are leaving right now," suggests Mason.
4:52 a.m.
We are actually on the freeway, now. Mason has momentarily stopped chatting and is humming four measures of "Deck the Halls" over and over again. I haven't had any coffee, yet.
Cooper says, "It's kinda fun to be the only people who are awake because you don't get stuck in traffic." City boy.
"Hey mama," interrupts Mason, "Do you know that when I get woken up by someone I talk a lot?"
4:56 a.m.
"I think I know why I heard someone say, 'Reset the alarm.' on the walkie talkie." This is a reference to our IKEA evacuation earlier this week. But before I can ask why he says:
"Hey mama did you know the moon is the lightest thing at nighttime?
"I think you mean it appears to be the brightest."
"Yeah, that."
4:58 a.m.
Mason asks, "Hey mama I don't remember, did you remember to set the timer?"
"I did."
"OK if we are asleep and we don't wake up for the timer, will you save our prizes for when we wake up?"
5 a.m.
The alarm on my watch goes off. Both kids sit straight up. I attempt to calm them, "Stand down, that's the alarm to wake up. We're just ahead of schedule."
Cooper resigns himself for waiting another 40 minutes for the prize timer, "I'm going to open my backpack." This is followed by Ooooohs and aaaahs! And an, "Awesome!"" (I hid new coloring books and a Wimpy Kid Diary in there.)
"Say, 'Thank You Mommy'."
Both,"Thank You, Mommy."
5:05 a.m.
"Hey mama have you ever had a song mash up?" asks Mason and before I answer follows with, "I was singing Batman and then all of a sudden I was like singing Black Eyed Peas. And, I didn't notice so then I was singing Put Your Hands Up in The Air."
5:08 a.m.
Excitedly Cooper gasps, "Look! It's the Broncos' stadium."
Mason dryly responds, "Go Broncos."
5:20 a.m.
You may think this represents 12 minutes of silence. Don't be fooled.
In fact, after 12 minutes of enthusiastic humming he has stopped and I think Mason actually fell asleep for a second.
5:33 a.m.
First McDonald's stop/drive through for the day. Among other indulgences I order both a small coffee and a large coffee and neither are intended for Mason.
5:59 a.m.
"Mama how do you spell Plymouth?" asks Cooper and I believe this might be the start of our first holiday relevant conversation.
"P-L-Y-M-O-U-T-H."
"Where is it?"
"Hmmmm... I think it's actually a rock on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean right by Massachusetts." And this is where I start to panic because I realize I'm one of the historically illiterate that my idol David McCullough pities.
"Is that where they built their houses?"
"Pretty sure they just docked their ships there. Then they kinda spread out to build their houses in the woods." Oh jeez I'm botching this.
"What happens on the 4th Thursday?"
"That's Thanksgiving." Then I realize I don't actually know FOR SURE if it's always the fourth Thursday or the third Thursday and I wish he would just ask me about Duck Dynasty.
"Why do they call it that?"
"If you count all the Thursdays that happen in November it's the fourth one, so they call it the fourth Thursday. Wait, did you mean, why do they call it Thanksgiving?"
6:16 a.m.
I realized about 4 minutes ago that I forgot to inject Lovenox -- an anticoagulant that I must use on long road trips and flights -- so I start looking for a safe and well-lit gas station. I settle on a dive in Fort Collins just in time for the first prize timer. When we pull up to the pumps Cooper sees a woman filling up her car while smoking.
He growls, "Get in your car and never come back."
Mason pleads, "I'm too little to die."
He growls, "Get in your car and never come back."
Mason pleads, "I'm too little to die."
This gas station only has an outside bathroom that is approximately 26 degrees, so I elect to inject myself in front of my kids in the car. I hate doing this because they get really scared for no other reason than they don't realize not all injections feel like immunizations. So they cry and I hurry and fumble with the sharp in the dark. Super annoying and cause for a little more bruising than usual.
I fill up the car with gas and ask if anyone wants to use the restroom. Both boys decline.
6:30 a.m.
We're back on the road, the sun is up and it is 2 degrees warmer. (balmy 28)
6:42 a.m.
Mason, "Whoa, look at the sky!"
Coop, "I need to pee."
Because 12 minutes ago you didn't?!?!
6:49 a.m.
We pull over at the only gas station I see on 287. We don't need gas, so we rush in the Shell station for a restroom, gum, and another coffee (don't judge). The gas station attendant is so cheerful and nice to everyone in her station. She's simultaneously listening to some old farmer's drama, running a credit card for something like $400 worth of gas, being sweet to my boys, and encouraging me for my long road ahead. Let it be said, I'm thankful for people like her. Sunbeams shined from her face.
6:56 a.m.
Now that it is light enough to see, we start playing the license plate game.
Also, in my hand-written notes I wrote something followed by an exclamation point. This is rare. So I suspect this was super funny. But I can't read my handwriting and I was really tired so I don't remember what it said or what happened. That's a bummer.
Oh wait, I think I pointed out it was 33 degrees! That wasn't worthy of an exclamation point.
7:16 a.m.
We cross the state line into Wyoming.
7:23 a.m.
Mason begins to experiment with tempo. Which is to say he hums the theme of Harry Potter in a staccato rush of notes and then draws out each note so long I can hardly recognize the song. This experiment isn't appreciated by everyone in the car.
Cooper is chomping on one of the apples I brought. I need to say they are the best tasting, crispiest apples I have ever tasted. I bought them at Target. Best ever.
My phone says this part of the drive is called Granite Canyon, Wyoming. And I think it also says, "It's freaking cold here, turn around and go home!"
7:42 a.m.
Both boys are reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid books. Silence.
7:46 a.m.
Mason sternly asks, "Is there anything I can do?"
"Color in your Angry Birds coloring book?"
"Naw, I'll just count to 36, sixty times."
7:58 a.m.
I see a huge bald eagle sitting on a fence post! A-MAZ-ING!
8:10 a.m.
Our first Idaho license plate sighting followed by Cooper shouting,"That's where we are going!"
Uhhhhhhhh.
Uhhhhhhhh.
8:23 a.m.
Prize time, squeals of delight for the mini LEGO batmobiles I found at Target. (Yes, I'm telling you I love Target today.)
8:37 a.m.
We pass Wolcott and my stomach does a little flip. I lecture to the boys, "Do you remember when we had to stop there because the road was closed for a wreck and the gas station was closed because this town is lame and it was super cold because Wyoming has wicked weather and we forgot to bring blankets?"
They both nod yes.
I continue, "The lesson here is that we always take blankets, even if it is warm when we leave."
They both nod yes.
On second thought maybe they were just looking down at their LEGOs. Either way, I capitalized on my opportunity to teach road trip safety. Yes I did.
9 a.m.
We cross the continental divide and receive a phone call from husband.
9:26 a.m.
We spot our first international plate -- Ontario.
9:43 a.m.
Prize time.
10:05 a.m.
We see our first Wisconsin plate and send good thoughts to our very own cheeseheads. Also, I switch to iced coffee. Which is to say that all my hot coffee is now cold and I'm drinking it anyway.
10:17 a.m.
Stop for gas in Rock Springs. The gas station attendant calls me, Hon. She doesn't know me, so I'm not sure why she does this.
10:32 a.m.
Back on the road after extensive candy aisle contemplation. I also try to fill their garbage cans with all our car trash. In process drop my already chewed gum on my floor mat. I'm mad at myself.
10:48
We pass through the Green River Tunnel and Mason points out a rock formation to us and says, "That looks like a statue of a girl tied up." Has he ever seen a girl tied up?
11:01 a.m.
Mason, "When are we going to be in Idaho?"
11:04 a.m.
After an interminably long time of Jazz (the genre, not the basketball team) radio followed by Country radio followed by lots of static stations, we find "I Will Wait for You" by Mumford and Sons and I am cheered knowing that with good music you can make yourself do just about anything.
Also, the song puts me in such a good mood I declare prize time.
11:51 a.m.
Cooper sighs, "Are we in Idaho, yet?
Uhhhhhh.
11:56 a.m.
We cross over into Utah. This is met with no reaction from the back seat.
12:08 p.m.
Mason says, "Mama, when we get there will you play LEGO with me?"
"Of course."
Cooper clarifies, "Yeah, because me and daddy and grandpa and grandma and June are going to play dummy rummy. We've been planning that."
12:14 p.m.
"Look at that mountain, Cooper!" shouts Mason. I almost wreck my car in surprise.
"Oh, that's where vampires live," explains Cooper with no surprise at either Mason's loudness or that vampires might live in the mountains of Utah.
12:19 p.m.
We drive above Echo Lake (actually I don't know which lake it is). Coop starts getting ideas about it's entertainment value, "Can you fish in there?"
"I think."
"Can you survive swimming in there?"
"Not right now!" (it's only 48 degrees)
12:24 p.m.
"Mama are we almost there?" asks Mason
"Yup."
"How many minutes?"
12:25 p.m.
"Wow!" says Cooper. "Are those sheep!?!?? l love sheep."
Mason adds, "And then the big bad wolf comes..."
12:39 p.m.
As we get deeper into the canyons that feed into the Wasatch Front the radio signal gets worse and the music gets questionable.
Cooper says, "Why doesn't Idaho's music sound like ours?"
12:43 p.m.
With clear disappointment Mason asks, "Hey, why is it so snowy here?"
12:45 p.m.
The first complaints about butt pain.
12:53 p.m.
"I know this!" says Mason with confidence. "I can't believe we finished our trip in one day!"
1:04 p.m.
Oh I missed the exit to my in-laws' house. Now we are lost somewhere on highland drive.
1:15 p.m.
My kids start talking about people and their ages and I don't really pay attention because I'm lost. But my ears perk up when Cooper says that he thinks I am 99! I correct him and he says, "I think you're as skinny as a grown up should be." Now that's consolation for an old comment.
1:23 p.m.
After 2 panicked phone calls to husband, license plates from 25 different states and countries, across 3 states in 8 hours and 40 minutes we find our way to the driveway of our destination.
Editor's Note: I would like to apologize for periods of time in which this entry was published without photos and in draft form, and then with huge formatting issues. I tried to write and post this while traveling with my iPad. Frankly it didn't work very well. If anyone has a mobile app for iPad that they like for blogging, please suggest.
Editor's Note: I would like to apologize for periods of time in which this entry was published without photos and in draft form, and then with huge formatting issues. I tried to write and post this while traveling with my iPad. Frankly it didn't work very well. If anyone has a mobile app for iPad that they like for blogging, please suggest.
