Sunscreen, towels, chairs and gossip rags.
Toys, food, drinks, umbrella and kids.
Sunny days, rainy afternoons, hazy laziness.
Hoping the calendar brings summer soon...
Showing posts with label traveling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label traveling. Show all posts
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Five for Five: Age
I heading towards the big 4-0 in a little over a year. I know I should not be too worried. Forty is the new thirty. I have over a year to get over it. I understand all of that. Really, I do.
But I have a son who is going to start middle school in the fall. I have a son who will begin Kindergarten in the fall. I can't be young and have a middle school-er, can I? I mean, do you remember what your parents and your friends' parents seemed like when you were twelve? I'll say it for you: ANCIENT.
Somehow, the idea of a middle school aged kid and a Kindergartener shouldn't go together. I mean, they are both monumental milestones. Forty: a monumental milestone. I am a little freaked out.
Really.
And I kind of feel sorry for my husband.
Can you imagine what things are going to be like? Mommy is turning forty and running from a midlife crisis in sensible (read: old lady) shoes while her baby is starting school for real and her oldest is going through pre-teen, emotional, pre-adolescent bullshit.
Yeah. Life will be grand. Please note that this statement is oozing in sarcasm.
So I have done what any sensible woman would do (besides wonder how the hell I got to here). I booked a cruise.
I know what many of you who have followed my blog for a while and remember last year's ill-planned cruise are thinking. But I was smart this time.
I know no one in my household will be making a major religious sacrament.
I know that everyone will have testing in April.
I know when the last day of school is in 2013 (no eye rolling, please.)
I made sure we leave two days AFTER the last day, making it virtually impossible to screw this up.
Except that we won't be celebrating my fortieth on the ship, because my big day is the day before.
Nor will we be celebrating my husband's fortieth (as he is quick to point out, I am eleven days older), because we get back before his big day.
And I'm okay with that. I want to be in the comfort of my own home, frantically packing for five when it hits.
I wonder if it will hurt.
I guess my biggest problem is that my mind cannot accept this. I don't feel older than 25, at most. And maybe there is the crux of the issue. In my head, I am 25. My body says otherwise if I carry too many groceries at one time or I try to scoop my sleeping five year old to bed. My body screams: NO!! You are not 25. You are there. Where you thought you would never be. You are arriving at middle age. Shit.
It took me most of my life to finally be comfortable in my own skin. I have a better clue of what I am doing now in most areas of my life. I can live in my own head now; the noise has considerably gotten quieter. I have finally found the courage to be the person I thought I could be. I have challenged myself physically (6 half marathons in a year, yo!). I have pushed myself to do the impossible (have you tried to keep three boys clean, groomed, fed and entertained while holding down a full time job?) and still manage to want to try new things (like assisted handstands in yoga or getting up each morning and doing it all again).
How can it be that the calendar says what it says?
I suppose that it is the amount of milestones that we will be celebrating in early June 2013 that has me grasping. A son finishing his first year of middle school and inching towards 13. A middle son ready to start his last year of elementary school. A baby boy finishing his Kindergarten year. Mom AND Dad reaching middle age.
Any of these, by themselves, are enough to have you reeling, even just a teensy bit. If broken up into chewable pieces, you can savor each one separately, brace yourself for the next one. But all of them simultaneously is a lot to get used to in a short amount of time.
This passage of time is relentless. You don't get to just stop at your favorite part and linger for a while. It goes by FAST and furious. Good and bad. All of it. The photographs chronicle. Looking back, it seems like 5 minutes ago. And that's the cruelty. There is no time to lament. Enjoy it NOW. Or it will seem so five minutes ago, but really be five years ago in the blink of an eye.
And, really, that's all age is. Time. Time your ticker has been ticking. What you have done with the time you have been allotted. What you have done with the body you were assigned. What you are going to do to make up for the things you wish you had done differently.
Age means that you know the difference. You have the wisdom to discern, to change tactics, and make it okay.
In the end, the extra little lines that make their debut slowly on your face, you've earned. I would rather have earned them smiling, laughing my ass off (if ONLY that were true!), and etch them deeper in my face by continuing to live on my terms.
I mean, 40 is 30 with ten years experience, right?
Friday, March 16, 2012
Spring...
Break. Alone. Away.
Food. Wine. Snow.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Pre-adolescent boys in (D.C.) heat...
When you are just a couple, a road trip is fun. You map out different places to hit before you arrive to your final destination. Your biggest decision is what you will be dining on, without having to consider what other people's palates. You can change your mind on a whim, stay up late, wake up late, skip meals if you want to.
But when you travel with children, even your mode of transportation and how you choose to make your way changes dramatically.
After dropping $350 before we even walked out (and were able to lock) the door, we were desperate to leave reality behind. After a quick pick up of the item we were to deliver to my brother in law, from my in laws, we were off. At dinner, John and I quickly decided that a night of driving was better than stopping part ways, unload the luggage and children, only to awaken at the crack of dawn to not lose a day of fun, vacation sightseeing. When we told the kids, they were thrilled. They know the drill all too well. We stop once before "bed" time to use the potty, and when they awaken, we are that much closer to our destination, not having had to listen to all kinds of ungodly whining, complaining and requests ranging from movie selection to bathroom stops. It works for us.
However, my husband is all too familiar with my typical "let's drive all night" routine. I will usually drive the first shift, eat dinner, continue driving until I get sleepy, usually within the hour of eating. As you can see, this is not the ideal.
This time, though, I was committed to staying up. After the boys had settled in for the night, John and I switched around 10:30 p.m. I was good to go. I had my iPhone loaded with upbeat, loud music and I was determined to be as caffeinated as legally possible. Around midnight or so, we stopped by a McDonalds and I ordered a Mocha Frappe. For some reason, I was mighty hot, even with the AC blowing, and the thought of having hot coffee was as inviting as going as the main meal in a cannibal convention. I had never had one, but, boy, was I hooked!
The hours and miles seemed to melt away. When John roused from his slumber around 3 am, the music was blaring and I was flying high on caffeine, sugar, and pure adrenaline. He could barely recognize the woman sitting next to him. We switched off around 4:30 am, and I tried to sleep a little before the boys arose. We stopped for breakfast in North Carolina and were off.
We rolled into D.C. around 11:30 am. Traffic was hellacious and we soon discovered why as we tried to find our hotel. We noticed that the local park was set up with seemly dozens of tents and signs welcoming the Boy Scouts of America. Yes, folks. Along with the 102 degree heat, it seems that we were going to be sharing the weekend with the Boy Scouts, as they celebrated their 75th Annual National Camporee. Jealous yet?
Of course, our car's AC seemed to be doing a fine job, although I was starting to wonder if the heat outside was too much for it. I did not give it another thought, as we pulled into the hotel's car port while John checked in, only to be blocked in by a taxi driver. I cannot tell you how many profanities came out of my mouth as I tried to get out of there without leaving the driver's side of the car on the car port's columns.
Regardless, we unloaded the children and all the luggage from the van, hauled it upstairs to the room and set out for the Mall. We had friends that were also in town but would be leaving back to Florida in the morning, so we met up with them and saw the National Aquarium and the National Archives, where my boys saw the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.
As the day wore on, between the heat and the exhaustion of 24+ hours awake, John and I were closely resembling zombies. All I longed for was a hot shower, and a bed; food was optional. We parted ways with our friends, headed over to Chinatown, got some burgers (oh, the irony!)and went back to the hotel for the evening...I have never gotten three children and myself bathed and in bed sooner.
The following day brought lunch with a high school friend who we have not seen in fifteen years. She was our class valedictorian, went to Georgetown and is working for the State Department. Amber has loved in Gabon, Afghanistan, and Peru, among other places. Never married and without children, she can (I imagine) indulge in every whim, get up and go at a moment's notice. I was surprised that she responded to an email and called with directions to a nearby restaurant to meet for lunch. My friend has not changed too much in fifteen years. It was as though we hit a pause button on our last visit and resumed the conversation at hand, except that there were now three small kids in tow.
Lunch was wonderful, if you can call it lunch. I spent the majority of the time we were at the restaurant hauling Joshua to the bathroom every time he said he needed to go potty. Which was a lot. Like every 30 minutes or so, or when the conversation was getting interesting. Downstairs to the bathroom with my three year old in my arms, upstairs back to the restaurant with my three year old in my arms...the joys of motherhood will bring me fabulous legs, dammit. And a degree in hostile negotiations.
The next challenge came in trying to get him to pick something on the menu. It seemed he wanted his go to staple, macaroni and cheese. When it arrived, (after everyone else's lunch, since he could not be bothered with making up his mind) he was not at all impressed with the $7 kid's entree set before him. He wanted Matthew's chicken strips. So he got Matt's leftovers and I tried to pretend I was cool with the whole parenting thing.
Looking at Amber and hearing her stories of life overseas, I wondered where I went wrong. I wanted to pinpoint where I had lost my way from living the cosmopolitan life that we mothers invariably dream we could have had...when pigs fly.
We said our goodbyes in front of the White House, promised to keep in touch. If I didn't know any better, I would say she was hightailing it a little to get away from us...in spite of the unbearable, flesh melting heat that I have ever encountered...reaffirming to herself that serving her country is still way better than raising children...
We had seen the Museum of Natural History in the morning, so we decided to visit the Lincoln Memorial and the World War II Memorial. The beauty of the Reflecting Pool and seeing Matt and Andrew looking out at the breathtaking view from the Lincoln Memorial is something that I will remember always. What simplicity. What grandeur. What heat!
In the midst of all that, thousands upon thousands of Boy Scouts. Around 80,000, but who's counting? They were everywhere. In our hotel, in the Metro, in the Mall, in the museums...everywhere you turned, there were Boy Scouts; often being silly, taking pictures, being loud, being boys.
Now, my husband was an Eagle Scout, many moons ago. I endured many an Eagle Court of Honor in my day. And as much as I would love for my boys to experience the scouting phenomenon, I simply cannot take it on. Scouting should be something they share with their dad. Poor John's work schedule is as unpredictable as Joshua's mood swings, so we have yet to make that commitment.
There was something kind of hysterical about being in that kind of infernal heat, surrounding by that many pre-adolescent boys in uniform. I think I could feel my ovaries shrink, and I can't ascertain if it was from the heat or from the amount of testosterone flooding D.C....
So I did what any other self respecting female would do...I went to hide out in the Art Museum that had a Degas exhibition...and that did not bode well with my all male entourage...
To be continued...
But when you travel with children, even your mode of transportation and how you choose to make your way changes dramatically.
After dropping $350 before we even walked out (and were able to lock) the door, we were desperate to leave reality behind. After a quick pick up of the item we were to deliver to my brother in law, from my in laws, we were off. At dinner, John and I quickly decided that a night of driving was better than stopping part ways, unload the luggage and children, only to awaken at the crack of dawn to not lose a day of fun, vacation sightseeing. When we told the kids, they were thrilled. They know the drill all too well. We stop once before "bed" time to use the potty, and when they awaken, we are that much closer to our destination, not having had to listen to all kinds of ungodly whining, complaining and requests ranging from movie selection to bathroom stops. It works for us.
However, my husband is all too familiar with my typical "let's drive all night" routine. I will usually drive the first shift, eat dinner, continue driving until I get sleepy, usually within the hour of eating. As you can see, this is not the ideal.
This time, though, I was committed to staying up. After the boys had settled in for the night, John and I switched around 10:30 p.m. I was good to go. I had my iPhone loaded with upbeat, loud music and I was determined to be as caffeinated as legally possible. Around midnight or so, we stopped by a McDonalds and I ordered a Mocha Frappe. For some reason, I was mighty hot, even with the AC blowing, and the thought of having hot coffee was as inviting as going as the main meal in a cannibal convention. I had never had one, but, boy, was I hooked!
The hours and miles seemed to melt away. When John roused from his slumber around 3 am, the music was blaring and I was flying high on caffeine, sugar, and pure adrenaline. He could barely recognize the woman sitting next to him. We switched off around 4:30 am, and I tried to sleep a little before the boys arose. We stopped for breakfast in North Carolina and were off.
We rolled into D.C. around 11:30 am. Traffic was hellacious and we soon discovered why as we tried to find our hotel. We noticed that the local park was set up with seemly dozens of tents and signs welcoming the Boy Scouts of America. Yes, folks. Along with the 102 degree heat, it seems that we were going to be sharing the weekend with the Boy Scouts, as they celebrated their 75th Annual National Camporee. Jealous yet?
Of course, our car's AC seemed to be doing a fine job, although I was starting to wonder if the heat outside was too much for it. I did not give it another thought, as we pulled into the hotel's car port while John checked in, only to be blocked in by a taxi driver. I cannot tell you how many profanities came out of my mouth as I tried to get out of there without leaving the driver's side of the car on the car port's columns.
Regardless, we unloaded the children and all the luggage from the van, hauled it upstairs to the room and set out for the Mall. We had friends that were also in town but would be leaving back to Florida in the morning, so we met up with them and saw the National Aquarium and the National Archives, where my boys saw the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.
As the day wore on, between the heat and the exhaustion of 24+ hours awake, John and I were closely resembling zombies. All I longed for was a hot shower, and a bed; food was optional. We parted ways with our friends, headed over to Chinatown, got some burgers (oh, the irony!)and went back to the hotel for the evening...I have never gotten three children and myself bathed and in bed sooner.
The following day brought lunch with a high school friend who we have not seen in fifteen years. She was our class valedictorian, went to Georgetown and is working for the State Department. Amber has loved in Gabon, Afghanistan, and Peru, among other places. Never married and without children, she can (I imagine) indulge in every whim, get up and go at a moment's notice. I was surprised that she responded to an email and called with directions to a nearby restaurant to meet for lunch. My friend has not changed too much in fifteen years. It was as though we hit a pause button on our last visit and resumed the conversation at hand, except that there were now three small kids in tow.
Lunch was wonderful, if you can call it lunch. I spent the majority of the time we were at the restaurant hauling Joshua to the bathroom every time he said he needed to go potty. Which was a lot. Like every 30 minutes or so, or when the conversation was getting interesting. Downstairs to the bathroom with my three year old in my arms, upstairs back to the restaurant with my three year old in my arms...the joys of motherhood will bring me fabulous legs, dammit. And a degree in hostile negotiations.
The next challenge came in trying to get him to pick something on the menu. It seemed he wanted his go to staple, macaroni and cheese. When it arrived, (after everyone else's lunch, since he could not be bothered with making up his mind) he was not at all impressed with the $7 kid's entree set before him. He wanted Matthew's chicken strips. So he got Matt's leftovers and I tried to pretend I was cool with the whole parenting thing.
Looking at Amber and hearing her stories of life overseas, I wondered where I went wrong. I wanted to pinpoint where I had lost my way from living the cosmopolitan life that we mothers invariably dream we could have had...when pigs fly.
We said our goodbyes in front of the White House, promised to keep in touch. If I didn't know any better, I would say she was hightailing it a little to get away from us...in spite of the unbearable, flesh melting heat that I have ever encountered...reaffirming to herself that serving her country is still way better than raising children...
We had seen the Museum of Natural History in the morning, so we decided to visit the Lincoln Memorial and the World War II Memorial. The beauty of the Reflecting Pool and seeing Matt and Andrew looking out at the breathtaking view from the Lincoln Memorial is something that I will remember always. What simplicity. What grandeur. What heat!
In the midst of all that, thousands upon thousands of Boy Scouts. Around 80,000, but who's counting? They were everywhere. In our hotel, in the Metro, in the Mall, in the museums...everywhere you turned, there were Boy Scouts; often being silly, taking pictures, being loud, being boys.
Now, my husband was an Eagle Scout, many moons ago. I endured many an Eagle Court of Honor in my day. And as much as I would love for my boys to experience the scouting phenomenon, I simply cannot take it on. Scouting should be something they share with their dad. Poor John's work schedule is as unpredictable as Joshua's mood swings, so we have yet to make that commitment.
There was something kind of hysterical about being in that kind of infernal heat, surrounding by that many pre-adolescent boys in uniform. I think I could feel my ovaries shrink, and I can't ascertain if it was from the heat or from the amount of testosterone flooding D.C....
So I did what any other self respecting female would do...I went to hide out in the Art Museum that had a Degas exhibition...and that did not bode well with my all male entourage...
To be continued...
Friday, July 23, 2010
Unplugged
So much to do, so little time to do it!
Washing, folding, packing, repacking, piling stuff in the car.
National Lampoon's got nothing on us.
The guys and I will be on the road for a much need vacation this week. We are visiting the nation's capital, the national museums and then heading for the mountains for a few days to reconnect with our beloved Aunt Susan and Uncle Billy.
So, I will be unplugged: taking in the marvel of Washington, D.C. and the majesty of the mountains of North Carolina.
I promise to post pictures and commentary about our adventures on the road!
See you all in August!
Washing, folding, packing, repacking, piling stuff in the car.
National Lampoon's got nothing on us.
The guys and I will be on the road for a much need vacation this week. We are visiting the nation's capital, the national museums and then heading for the mountains for a few days to reconnect with our beloved Aunt Susan and Uncle Billy.
So, I will be unplugged: taking in the marvel of Washington, D.C. and the majesty of the mountains of North Carolina.
I promise to post pictures and commentary about our adventures on the road!
See you all in August!
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