Monday, April 12, 2010

You Might Be a Redneck...

Below are four completely random details that eventually collide to make for one good adaptation on my part. Work with me.

Detail #1
I've been referred to many times as a Southern Belle. I think it's my accent, err, I mean drawwwwl. In fact, I have very few one syllable words in my vocabulary. Truth is though, I'm not really a Southern Belle. I'm actually just a redneck who never left "the city" after college.

Detail #2
When I had my boys 18 months apart, my mom bought me a Peg Pergo double stroller. My husband said it would be great for me to take the boys shopping. What he meant to say, was "This will be a great opportunity for me to go play golf and for you and your mom to *enjoy* yourselves shopping with the boys." Get real. With two young boys, shopping and fun do not go together. Period.

However, I really liked the stroller. It was compact and light, and remarkedly roomy for the growing boys. The bottom storage was also adequate for lots of shopping bags and once I added S-hooks to the push bar, I could tote even more bags.

The only thing I didn't like was the fact there were no cup holders. Who makes a stroller with NO cup holders? Apparently the stroller was made for structured families who have unbreakable rules as to "no food or drink away from the table." I tried several different attachable cup holders, but none worked to my liking.

Detail #3
My husband (bless his heart) needed to travel out of town for a last minute presentation. He asked me to go buy him a Sports Jacket at the mall (since I didn't have anything else to do). Like I'm just gonna walk into the mall toting two kids under 3 and *presto* find a nice jacket, in his size, at an affordable price and all in time to pick up big brother at preschool by 1:00.

Detail #4
Little Sticky apparently sprained his hamstring at a friend's birthday bounce house party on Sunday. Rendering him unable to walk.

This morning I pack up the double stroller (after dusting 80 pounds of pollen from it) so that after dropping Big Sticky off at preschool and stopping to get a much needed cup of coffee, I could take the youngest babies (one who cannot walk) to the mall to find a last minute Sports Jacket.

I had not used the stroller in quite some time and the last cup holder I used apparently had fallen off (like the previous five or six or seven or so.)  I had to do something with my coffee cup since I needed both hands to steer 60 pounds of little people.  Here is where the redneck comes out in me.  I grabbed a Toy Story sand bucket that I found in the back of the van and placed it in the S-hooks I had previously bought to hold shopping bags and VOILA...  a cup holder. 

I put two baby wipes in the bottom of the bucket to keep the cup from moving around and to absorb any potential coffee spills.  And when I was finished with my coffee, it became a great holder for my cell phone and the Buzz Lightyear and Woody action figures that the kids kept throwing to the floor.

And as we were leaving the mall (in a big hurry mind you) I remembered one other thing that I loved and hated about this stroller.  On good days, I could literally collapse the thing with one hand.  On bad days or times when I was just in a big hurry, no amount of flicking or pushing or squeezing or cursing or kicking or shoving or forcing or crying or screaming would get that thing to fold for me.  This of course, was one of those days.  So what does a girl do?

She picks it up and shoves it in the mini-van that she swore one day she would never, never, never, never, never, never, never, NEH-VERRRRR drive!

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Hoppy Motoring!

Exxon used to have a saying "Happy Motoring" over all their garage bays. As a tween I always wondered what did "motoring" even mean?   That just seemed like a strange saying to me.  Then, low and behold, when I was in high school one of the biggest ballads of the day was "Sister Christian" with a line "You're motoring, what's your price for flight..." Being the total geek that I was, I had to buy myself a Tiger Beat to know what they were actually singing. I mean who uses the word "motoring" anyway?

So, on Easter Sunday, I decided to get the kids all dolled up in their Easter Sunday duds and "motor" an hour and 40 minutes west to my "home" church for Easter service. Since we had just motored home from a week at the beach late Saturday evening and I knew there wouldn't be any food in the house for breakfast, we stopped at Krispy Kreme for not one, but two dozen original glazed. After we arrived home and got the kids out of the car and into bed and the van unpacked, I decided to scarf down a few donuts.  HeHe!  Then, I got serious and started ironing their clothes for church, packing a change of clothes for an Easter Egg Hunt at my brother's, and then played errr, the Easter Bunny.

I was so proud of "my team" Sunday morning. Everyone got up and dressed with enough time to see what the Easter Bunny had brought them. A bucket of Toy Story soldiers for Big Sticky, "The Princess and the Frog" movie for Little Sticky, and a Buzz Lightyear for Princess. (BTW, should I be concerned that Little wanted the Princess movie while Princess is totally infatuated with Buzz and Woody?)

With all the crazy rush of the morning, I mistakenly didn't pay enough attention to how much of the Gummie Eggs or Marshmallow Bunnies or Krispy Kreme donuts the kids ate before we took off motoring. My husband helped me load up the kids before he needed to not surprisingly work unexpectedly. I headed out of the driveway on time and off we went. About half way thru the trip, I called my dad to give him our ETA and have him reserve a seat for us.

About three minutes after hanging up with him, and while elevator music was playing in my head, I longingly looked back at my sweet and adorable children as they are watching their new movie.  {insert DJ scratch here} Instantly my heart sank as I see Little Sticky with clenched shoulders and a sour pickle look on his face. "Oh no!" I thought. Seconds later, you can only imagine what came out of that child. I guess all that sugar combined with sitting in the back seat of a vehicle travelling at highway speeds was not the best combination.

From the front seat I tried calming Little down while telling Big (who has the most sensitve gag reflex on the planet) to cover his ears and look away. Frantically, I try to figure out where to pull over.  Once I realize the next exit is two miles away, I call my dad back before he heads into Sunday School to tell him what has happened.  I kid you not, the moment I hang up the phone, Princess starts throwing up.  Are you kidding me???  This is NOT happening.  Ok, okay, calm down.  Keep your composure.  It's Easter Sunday, watch your language young lady!

I finally pull over and start to triage the situation.  With guarded hands and held breath, I climb into the back of the van (in my heels and a silk dress mind you.)  I pull Little out and ask him how he's feeling and if he thinks he might get sick again all while peeling off his layers.  He had been so proud of how handsome he looked in his little navy vest, button down, and khaki pants (minus the bow tie that he flatly refused to wear.)  After I undressed him, he looked down at himself and said with the biggest most disappointed pout "Oh no!  Now I'm just all messed up!"  I thoroughly wiped him down, cleaned off his shirt, vest, pants, shoes, and socks using about 75 scented baby wipes.  I then gave him a suuuuper big hug and a kiss on the forehead.

Surprisingly his clothes didn't smell bad at all, they smelled like, well, a Krispy Kreme glazed donut.  (hope that doesn't spoil your future appetite for a KKOG).  Luckily, I had a clean undershirt packed with the change of clothes so I put that back on him and laid his tops in the passenger seat to dry from the baby wipe scrub down.

Keep in mind that Princess is screaming this entire time.  However, Little was the priority since her bib caught most of her mess.  I climb back into the back of the van so that I can wipe down the car seat, straps, the floor, the back of the seat in front of him... did I miss any place?  I put him back in his seat and cover him with his blanket just in case he's not finished.

I then turn to Princess.  She was a little easier since her bib, bunny, and blanket caught most of her returned donut.  Fortunately, I had her dress on a hanger (since I didn't want it to wrinkle) and her cotton slip faired well thru the ordeal.

I was so glad I had put a new pack of wipes in the car the night before.  I literally used the entire pack cleaning up ALL that mess.  I tossed all the dirty wipes in a grocery bag, and all the dirty washables into another bag.  I then took the biggest sigh EVER before straightening my dress and getting back in the van.  Another deep breath before putting the car in gear and taking off into the land of motoring.  Hoppy Easter Motoring.

BTW, some how, some way, we still made it to church on time.  The second miracle of the day.

The first being the Rising of our Savior!  Happy, Happy Easter!