Blog Photos: A Little Something I Learned

Sometimes when I'm hanging out with my friends and family and the topic of blogging comes up people always find the right words to flatter me...

Oh you're just the best writer.

You should become a writer.

I love reading your blog.

Well, I might be exaggerating a little bit. But somehow or another I started to have a little bit of an ego concerning my blog. I've learned, however, it has nothing to do with my words. It's the pictures. More specifically, pictures of my kids. During the past week I was shocked to discover that I wouldn't be able to post pictures during my road trip. But I decided to post anyway. I must have been kidding myself. In a week -- particularly if I mention poo -- I can see as many as 22 comments. This week (sans pictures) I received a measly six.

I get the hint. So I've updated last week's posts with relevant pictures. (So go look at them because I spent a lot of time doing it.) I guess a picture is worth a thousand words, and is a whole lot better than a thousand from me.

PHOTO NOTE: Picture of me -- yes, just me -- with my son's hand clawing at my eye because he doesn't really like riding on the shoulders of big people. It's scary up there!

Earlier Than Expected

5:35 a.m.
Mason starts crying (from a bad dream, I suspect) and wakes us all up about an hour before our alarm is set to get us going. We decide to just get moving. If only we'd realized it is Sunday.

6 a.m.
My alarm (on wristwatch) sounds off while I'm carrying a sleeping Cooper up the stairs of my mother's house. He doesn't ever stiff, until he's strapped in the car seat. Then he shivers and asks where his brother is. Once he looks around he realizes what is going on and asks if he can sleep on the way. Of course!


6:12 a.m.
Bye family!

6:40 a.m.
We finally find an open gas station and a coffee stand. Seriously, is it that hard to wake up on Sunday people?!?!?! Steve is driving. He always hogs the starting leg.

7:22 a.m.
Both boys are asleep -- Mason just so and Cooper at least 30 minutes in. Steve and I begin reading and discussion (actually I read as he drove) the finer points of corporate monopolies, government corruption, and heirloom tomato seeds.

8:14 a.m.
Cross the Idaho/Utah stateline and the boys magically wake up.


8:57 a.m.
Make our merry way to the I84 eastbound route. This is the very prettiest part of the 12 hour adventure and it only lasts about 12 minutes. Harumph.

9 a.m.
Cooper recognizes that the Barbie car in Toy Story 2 is a corvette and shouts, "Vette!" This starts a discussion of what is his favorite toy [left behind at home during vacation] and rattles off Star Wars Lego Video Game without a breath of hesitation. The proceeds to describe how the game works and then says contritely, "Oh, I forgot I can't say Kill, right mommy?"

9:59 a.m.
Stop at JB's in Evanston, Wyoming for some breakfast. Worst food and worst service we've experienced this summer to date. The bathrooms aren't that clean at we wait more than 40 minutes for our food -- breakfast food. How hard is it to scramble a few eggs.

11:14 a.m.
Gas up and our total bill is $49.99. Switch drivers. Ummmm... this is the ugly part of the drive. Why am I driving it, again?

11:30 a.m.
Mason is asleep. Not sure exactly when -- in the past 15 minutes this happens -- but he is happily snoring.

12:32 p.m.
Despite every effort to pick up time lost at JB's we end up making another pit stop and handing out snacks. It's about here when I notice Wyoming's peculiar style of road signs. There are both regular, state-issued road signs and billboards with didactic warnings about going slow and driving safely. Each one has hard-hitting (or attempted) conclusions, such as, "Drive Safely or Pay The Price." These are weird signs. And I start to think that I am imagining the messaging.


1:14 p.m.
Mason starts a chorus of, "No, no, no, no!"
Steve, acting as the co-pilot, tries to calm him. Then Cooper asks for something. Then I ask for something. Pretty soon he's flustered, cheesed off; and we're all laughing at him.

1:26 p.m.
In the midst of the co-pilot debacle Cooper announces he has a stomach ache. Steve asks why and discovers that Cooper just has to poop and doesn't think he can hold it another 39 miles (the next town). Some negotiation takes place and Coop hangs in -- but lets quite a few stinky toots in protest.

1:36 p.m.
Cooper requests that we open the windows. When we ask why (why do we ask why?????) he replies, "It's not good in here."

1:39 p.m.
The blast of air conditioning that we give ourselves (pilot and co-pilot) to survive the toots from the backseat spur a shout from Cooper, "I need the hot conditioning!"


2:15 p.m.
Bathroom break in Rawlins. Steve busies himself filling up the car with gas at $4.09/gallon. I sling Mason on my hip, grab Coop's hand and head for the bathroom. Gross bathroom. Set up Cooper for his deed in his own stall then attempt to use the neighboring (and only other) stall. Mind you I have to hold Mason on my lap. OK... let's break for a moment.

Holding children on my lap while I'm using a toilet is my absolute least favorite thing about being a mom. I would like to say it has only happened once or twice, but it's more like a dozen times. It's right up there with having your husband see your v-jay-jay stretched to the size of a paper-plate during labor. I do not like it. But it's a necessary evil.

Now on with the bathroom story. Cooper is a private pooper. So it was much to his chagrin when an elderly lady came waltzing into the bathroom and tried to open his stall. He yelled, though politely, "I need my privacy!" In all the shuffle he also missed the toilet and had to be changed from head to toe when we got out to the car.

Once we're on the road Cooper lets dad know, "I went poop. That's why I had a stomach ache." PS -- we switched drivers, again.

3:05 p.m.
Coop asks, "Will you count [how long until we get home]? I count to 8 and he's asleep. Mason continues to watch Toy Story.

4:50 p.m.
The drive through norther Colorado gets a bit annoying and Mason starts humming/crying. He's not responding to any of the usual bribes, i.e., candy, chocolate milk, movies, toys. Then all of a sudden he falls asleep. Cooper is still asleep. Steve and I have to pee. Debate ensues. Can we make it another 2 hours? Should we stop? Where should we stop? Oh the drama.

5:11 p.m.
Realize pee break is a must. Stop at the Loaf n Jug (te he he, yes, I'm that immature). When Cooper wakes up he asks, "Did we get Chinese?" Them scampers off to use the restroom, too.

6:34 p.m.
No only are we home but one kid is in the bath, one on the pot, and i have checked in on all my plants (5 green tomatoes).

PS -- New pictures tomorrow.

Just One

Friends. You only need one. Honestly.
To feel safe, secure, a part of something bigger, happy -- you need only one friend.
One thing I'm grateful for is that my little Cooper can always find a friend.

Far from home, we found our way to a holiday celebration with grandma's neighbors. A rope circled the fireworks zone to keep the kids safe. All the children from the neighborhood lined up with toes touching the rope, trying to get as close to the action as possible. Coop found himself feeling a bit shaky in his confidence and standing among a group of kids he did not know. But he introduced himself to the boy closest to his height and within minutes the two were holding hands [a sure sign of friendship] and hooting with glee as they watched the holiday fireworks.

Some folks have lots of friends. Others have a few. But as long as everyone has at least one...

Iron Will

As children grow, centimeter by centimeter, we occassionally feel compelled to record moments -- messy or marvelous -- with a few simple notes of endearment. For me this is the net-new list. Other times I like to write down what I love most about the age/stage of my kids. Tonight I can honestly say that the thing I love most about Mason's current stage is he can't actually articulate the nasty-tempered thoughts he must be having!


I'd much rather be writing about a wonderful day at the reservoir, the perfect weather, the thrill of watching my boys fish with their grandpa... But instead I must report that Mason screamed from the moment we put his "boat coat" (life preserver) on until he fell asleep.
His ever stubborn iron will was so set on complaining that he continued to moan and wimper after he feel asleep. In a further act of rebellion he clutched the pen and paper I gave him (thinking the distraction would make him forget about his tantrum) until his chin rested on his chest in slumber. Every once in a while his angry brain impulses would jolt him awake or make his little fingers flutter in unconcious creativity. But through it all he was cranky.
I guess some people are not meant for the water.

While he slept on the boat the rest of us enjoyed warm breezes and fun family time. We pulled up to the dock just as Mas woke up (still crying and whimpering). Once he was off the boat and on the shore he was happy and spent the rest of our time there throwing rocks.
Is this the terrible 2s?

Good Bye Bedtime

It's 11 p.m. And I'm sandwiched in bed with my 22-month old and husband (our 3-year old has the good sense to stay in his sleeping bag on the floor) and no one is sleeping.
The boys had a big day. They hiked around a quaint little cabin (John Sack's), roughhoused with grandparents, helped mow the lawn... But still they are wide awake. Vacation bedtimes are a true amusement. From the outset I tell myself that I'll stick to schedule. Each morning of the vacation I awake with the very thought that all day long I'll do everything in my power to put the boys down on time. And then I magically forget and discover time has flown convienently past 10 while the boys are running laps around The Grandma Hotel.
I don't actually feel as guilty as I thought I would. Are bedtimes overrated?

Did You Know

Smores are made from crackers, chocolate, and smashmallows. According to Cooper.
Ps-- Marshmallows made Mason cry, will post pictures later.

Points of Interest

6:35 a.m.
Like ma and pa Clampet we pull away from the house with 2 sleepy but excited boys. I'm surprised how much stuff we can fit in our little SUV and am thrilled to see another load of our baby stuff finding a new home (we're giving it to my little brother and his sweet wife).

8:01 a.m.
Place our breakfast order at Denny's. Why is it I never eat at places like this, except on vacation? Also, aren't vacations about indulging in the very best food? We'll need to work on our food choices as we drive through the next 3 states.


8:31
Bad-for-you food is so fast! Pulling out of Fort Collins and trying to spot CSU (we've never seen, but we've driven through this town at least 20 times). Still can't find it. But we note the local psychic lives next to the cemetary. Fitting.

9:12 a.m.
I am defeated by Donkey Kong and scolded by Cooper with a, "give it (the game) to Daddy!"

9:35 a.m.
Cooper asks, "daddy, when are we going to get there?"

"8 hours" (grossly under estimates dad).

"No! 1 hour!" Ahhhhh, poor Coop. If only the road to grandma's was as negotiable as time out.


9:39 a.m.
Stop for gas in Laramie, WY. It is 4.21/gallon. They can charge this much because if you don't gas up here you can literally run out of gas before the next town. This is price gouging, right?
Steve and I switch spots. Somehow I always end up in the driver's seat for the most boring part of the drive.

10:50 a.m.
Mason dozes off and coop and steve are gaming.

11:40 a.m.
Coop says, "I'm tired mommy." I look back to see he's so exhausted his eyes are rolling around and he can't lift his head. I give him permission to fall asleep and he sacks so completely it's sweet.

12:59 - 1:14 p.m.
Stop for gas and McD's in Rock Springs. This is certainly some kind of gathering place or point of no return because it is packed with a gazillion people, some are ver scary to look at. The mini van next to us has vinyl lettering across its back window (the whole back window) that says, "save a ship; ride a sailor." O.M.G.


2:45 p.m.
Cross the state line (WY/UT).

3:22 p.m.
Stop in Morgan for CANDY. Also, I secretly love this little town and tried all manner of convincing Steve we should name one of our kids Morgan. But, we didn't.

4:15 p.m.
Seriouly? Steve looks back and catches Mason picking toe jam with a key.

4:40 p.m.
Cross another state line (UT/ID).

5:01 p.m.
Get the "where are you" call from grandma. It's nice to be loved, isn't it?

Cooper says, "I'm getting sweaty." Poor little man.

Who Knows What Time p.m.
Steve notices (I'm driving) that we're about to run out of gas! Luckily we're 3 miles outside of Blackfoot.


6:35 p.m
Our little SUV pulls into grandma's drive. We pour out and the babies wobble on sea legs up to the door. Guess what? Grandma's not home!