getting back to normal

back on the sofa
computer in my tired lap
ignoring beasties

We have been back for not quite two days now. The wee-er one is continuing her descent into Toddler Maelstrom Nutjob-i-ness. She has gone completely berserk. I blame this on her cold, still being on Pacific Time, and a possible demon possession.

The wee one is doing great. he’s still on Spring Break and so I’m letting him eat sugary cereal and watch too much TV. He slept until 10 this morning! This is a kid who is really learning to understand what vacation means.

Now comes the unpacking. Maybe I will just leave everything in the suitcases until we go on vacation again. I’m too tired to do anything else.

Vegas vacation, part 2

making memories
for us and other people
cautionary tale

We retrieved our luggage in time for the wedding, hooray! And the kids were amazingly behaved at the ceremony and the reception, considering it didn’t even start until 8 pm cst (6 pm Vegas time). We had our pictures made with Elvis and we ate fancy food and shmoozed with high school and college chums – it was a lot of fun.

Now we are wrapping things up. We’re leaving tomorrow and we have successfully trashed this hotel room as if we were the Stones or maybe even Courtney Love.

Hey, speaking of music, the hubby and I actually escaped the kiddos last night and went to see the Cirque Du Soleil production of Love, the Beatles show. It was amazing – theatre in the round, crazy ass stunts, exploding cannons of confetti, a flying bed a la Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, a grand piano full of bubble solution, and more. It was so overstimulating I kept sneezing just like a baby or a dog.

Today we went to Hoover Dam, but it was a disaster. The wee-er one has decided she is done with vacation so the tour sounded like this: AHHHHHHHH!!!! "three feet of concrete" AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! "turbine" AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! "dam" AHHHHHHHH!!!!!! "four years to complete" AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

We didn’t get to look at any of the exhibits or hear any of the tour, and I had to take her out of the little movie they show. We did manage to get an ice cream and buy some stuff in the gift shop, though. I mean, even with a toddler in complete Chernobyl mode we couldn’t leave without an ugly coffee mug, could we?

And so we are back in the trashed out hotel room, debating what to do for dinner and quite pleased that we weren’t actually physically escorted from the premises of the dam.

Vacation is fun, but I miss Austin.

Vegas vacation, part 1

trapped like pissed off rats
not great way to start off trip
and yet it got worse

Yesterday, we spent over 12 hours traveling. Only 3 of those hours were actually spent in the air, though. The bulk of the rest of time was spent TRAPPED. On an airplane. On the tarmac. In a freak March snowstorm. In Dallas.

I can’t even tell you how terrible it was. Can’t even describe the trauma.

Then, we finally got to Vegas and. No luggage! No carseats! No fancy dress! No diapers!

More details to come. Still processing the drama.


Haiku hits the road

bags are almost packed
children are rife with disease
it’s vacation time!

We are leaving in the morning for 6 days of insanity in Vegas. And when I say "insanity" I don’t mean staying up all night and gambling and drinking and flirting with strippers. I mean staying up all night with a toddler who won’t sleep, being scared of how roulette works (and really wanting to play craps, but being scared of that, too), drinking lots of vitamin water, and flirting with disaster.

We’re going to try to tour the marshmallow factory, kick it old school at the Hoover Dam, and do our best to not look like hillbilly slobs at the fancy wedding.

I can’t believe we’re actually going. On an airplane. To the desert. With children. For that long!

The house is clean-ish, the bags are packed-ish, the reservations almost all printed out. The dog is being left in crazy capable hands. Plans have been made for the leftovers in the fridge.

It’s really happening. Me! Going on vacation! Of course I’m going to try to blog while we’re there, who could resist blogging from Vegas? But the place we’re staying doesn’t offer access to the interwebs for free (what?!), so maybe I can steal a wifi signal somewhere.  Or, your know, use one legally. Whatever. What I’m saying is – stay tuned.

I know that what happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas, but what fun is that?

Dear City Worker,

Hi there. It’s cold and rainy today, huh? I’ve been trying to convince myself that it’s not crappy weather – just the last little hint of winter before a beautiful Texas springtime.

But it’s pretty crappy.

Anyway, I saw you standing out in the cold rain this morning, jabbing into a giant puddle with a stick. I guess you were trying to figure out why the street wasn’t draining properly. That’s a pretty important job, otherwise we’d all hydroplane or get trapped in three feet of water as we cross the intersection. I totally respect your job and understand that it’s a shit thing to have to do, standing on the corner of a busy intersection, in the cold rain, jabbing at muck in a puddle.

I just wanted you to understand that I appreciate your hard work, and I understand the effort it must take for you to do your job – especially on days like today.

So, Mr. City Worker, I’m really, really sorry I splashed you. Like completely drenched you from at least the chest down. I couldn’t get over into the other lane because of a big ass truck. I thought I was going slow enough to maybe just catch your shoes. Alas, I drowned you in street puddle muck. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

I don’t know why you didn’t step away when you saw the light turn green – I think maybe you were distracted by talking on the phone. It doesn’t matter, though, I should have been driving slower. Does it help at all that I didn’t realize the puddle was so deep? Does it help that I was going under 15 mph on purpose, to try and NOT drench you? Probably not. You looked really pissed.

Sorry, dude. I hope you had some dry pants in your truck. I also hope you didn’t take down my license plate number to seek revenge on me and all my living relatives.