Loving The Adventure; The Return Is Questionable

On Wednesday afternoon I packed the little ones into the car with Everything We Could Ever Need for a two-day trip downstate. I was a little nervous to take them both by myself, because Marta is a notoriously terrible traveler, not being inclined to rest or sleep in the car and not settling down enough to sleep well anywhere but her own room.

The lack of baby rest was worth the trip, because we had tickets to The Wiggles, easily one of my children's top three acts. I couldn't wait to see their faces when they realized that the foursome was live in person, and not on the tube.

The kids actually did a super job on the drive down -- not sleeping, only watching one short video (eh, The Wiggles), munching snacks, reading and playing. They were so happy to be at my parents' house, and my mom even got them the cutest table and stools set that we took home to play with and they've been sitting at it all day today, doing activities, having snacks and reading.

Despite the short time we spent there, I had good, long conversations with my mom and brother -- Dad was working most of the time -- and the kids slept beautifully.

On Thursday we went to the show and it was fantastic! Super fun show to see for adults and kids, but the best part was watching the girls' faces. My mom, sister and I were actually teary because the kids were so happy and excited. My mom leaned over and said, "I'm hiring them for Berit's birthday party" (I wouldn't put it past her entertainment abilities) and I said, "I'm running away with them." I have the tiniest Mom Crush on Anthony. Teensy. ... Anyway.

We met my dad and brother for dinner at a little Mediterranean restaurant, then loaded up the exhausted children and I headed towards home, thinking that they'd surely fall asleep after so much excitement (and the hour of departure already being bedtime).

Berit did in fact crash soon after hitting the highway. Marta, however, called out for ICE CREAM!! for the first hour of the drive. Huh? We HAVE been really doing it up this summer with the ice cream and sandbox and water features, so I kind of understand how she might assume that after a fun-packed day she'd get ice cream. (Note to self: Change this. Soon.)

But I figured she wasn't sleeping anyway and getting ice cream might eat up a half hour that she might instead spend screaming for ice cream and possibly waking Berit up, so I took the first exit that promised a McDonald's and headed for the drive-thru (three miles from the exit, which felt kind of like forever). Turned out to be a big McDonald's drive-thru night and we waited in line singing and biding time and trying not to wake Berit. When it was our turn, the WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY AN ANGUS THIRD POUNDER VALUE MEAL lady informed us there was no ice cream; the machine was down, so we drove around and to make a long story short, ended up getting a shake at Burger King after getting stuck between ordering and paying for 20 minutes. I asked for a small vanilla and received a large chocolate. Fine. Put bib on the baby and off we went. After a few quiet minutes I checked the rearview mirror and noticed Marta painting herself and carseat with chocolate ice cream shake. (Warning: Bad parenting practice coming up.) I let her continue because she was happy and quiet and it was late and I just wanted to get home when Berit opens her eyes and yells, "MOM, WE FORGOT TO BRING A FIZZY POP!" (Before we get in the car to drive home, my mom promised Berit she could bring home a soda, because all of the adults had had soda for dinner and I had run across the street to get the girls milk from a coffee shop (popcorn and junk having been liberally applied at The Wiggles) and the promise was made before consulting me.)

And then Berit looks over to Marta who is slurping down what appears to be a giant soda, and completely freaks out because THERE IS HER FIZZY POP AFTER ALL.

I assure Berit that it's just milk and pray that Marta doesn't start painting again and reveal that no, it's not milk and no, it's not fizzy pop but it IS ice cream.

We drive for the next hour like this, and then the girls start to lose it entirely because it's 9:30 and it's been bedtime for at least two hours now. It's dark outside so I give the girls their blinky glowy sticks they got at the show which I realize blink red, white and blue lights in a row just like a police car. So for the rest of the drive, the cars in front of me SLOW DOWN because am I cop? Am I pulling them over? Am I a fake cop trying to pull them over to kill them? No one's sure, so they drive as slow as they dare but never pull out of my way, so the trip gets extended by a whole half-hour.

Finally we arrive home and the real screaming starts, and the dog is barking and the phone keeps ringing, and I end up putting a new-jammied Marta (whose hair is in chocolate ringlets) right to bed in furious tears and Berit goes down like a dream, thank God. Marta stays up all night getting more and more sick (random addition to the story, she's now sick) and eventually wakes up for the day at 6:30 with a full-blown green-snot cold.

I keep sending Trevor little messages like, "Hope you're having fun at the cabin! Miss you! By the way, Marta is SOOOOOO sick and I haven't even gotten dressed yet! Ha ha. (pleasefeelguiltythatyou'veleftusalonetoindulgeinaguy'sweekend)"

Still, completely worth it. Pictures to come soon, unless I fall asleep first.