Family Vacations, Then and Now

This weekend marked the first family vacation with my side of the family since the Great Myrtle Beach Thanksgiving Vacation Disaster of 2007. None of us said anything to reference it, but as we set up our campers at the state park on Friday night, cold wind whipping across the lake and blowing in heavy bursts of rain, I'm sure we were all thinking of it.

Back in 2007, my husband and my mom set out around 8 p.m. on the weekend before Thanksgiving with the hopes that our potty training 18-month-old daughter and 3-month-old son would drift off to sleep shortly after leaving, and they could drive through the night, arriving in the sunny Carolinas around breakfast, a bright November sun burning off the fog in the foothills, and two well-rested children slowly stirring in the back seat.

Instead, the two kids took turns keeping the other one awake, Lydia crying every time they drove under a row of streetlights or caught the headlights of oncoming drivers heading back the way they came.  Brandon and my mom took turns trying to pin clothes to the window to block the lights, played music, didn't play music, sung, gave bottles over the back seat, anything, anything to get them to sleep.

Meanwhile, I was at home, sleeping soundly in my empty house and bed after spending most of the night painting the living room red.  I stayed behind because I had just started my job at the University that fall and for some reason I decided that my five vacation days that year would be best used some other time.  I would work the first two days of the week and then just fly down on Wednesday.  No big deal.

The family van rolled into Myrtle Beach on Sunday, alive.  I flew down to Wilmington from Columbus and arrived at the airport, ready to see my happy family at the beach for a long weekend.  Utopian dreams of previous vacations drifted in my brain, full weeks spent wandering the beach and strolling about with both my side of the family and his, smiling, sunset gazing, sandcastle building, everyone jolly and hugging and wishing it would never end. 

My phone rang as I got off the plane.  It was Brandon.  A deer ran out in front of the van on his way to the airport and the van was undriveable.  A tow truck was on its way.  You'll have to rent a van, he said, we'll get this one repaired and pick it up on our way back out of town. 

Only no mechanics work the week of Thanksgiving.  We'd have to come back for it.

The two of us rolled in to the condo and slipped as quiet as possible into the bedroom, under the blankets, the bed creaking just enough to wake up Lydia.  Mommy?  And then four hours of children awake.

Thus began our Thanksgiving vacation at the beach.  Dad and the boys arrived about the same time as I did on Wednesday and we ate our Thanksgiving dinner together in the condo.  We wrapped up the weekend with a family blow-out and a one-way rental back to Ohio. 

And now.  We huddled around the campfire started with lighter fluid between the two campers, hoods up over our ears to block the wind gusts, and grumbled about the weather with my brother and his wife and my parents while the kids slept in the camper.  Lydia is now six, Elvis almost five and Henry just over a year old. 

In the morning, we cooked eggs and bacon over the fire, still battling the chilly wind.  This figures! I muttered.  Can't plan anything.  We took the kids to the playground, wobbled over the limestone boulders down to the lake side so the kids could throw in sticks, and at lunch we moved the campers to another less windy part of the park.  And then, then it was like the old days - the really old days - of fishing and cooking and roasting marshmallows and cooking hobo pie and riding bikes and making fast friends from the campsite across the way (hello, Lisa).

Only this time, it was me and my family giving it to the kids, my brother teaching them to fish, my husband playing catch with the older two and chasing Henry across the grass, all of us cooking and singing and drinking and eating, and me, grinning like I just caught my first bluegill by the water.

No Idle Hands Here

We've had another full, fun weekend around these parts.  The rust bucket Durango retired at the Ford dealership Friday, and Brandon and I did a little happy dance that it did NOT begin belching smoke in the parking lot when they started it up.  We pulled away with a 2004 Ford Expedition, pleased with our purchase and resigned to investing our money in a small oil field in Iran. 

Friday night is Sarah-does-not-cook-if-the-husband-is-out-of-town night, so we ordered a small pizza for the kiddos, and Henry and I ate avocados, leftover roasted carrots, and bananas.  I think - some combination like that, anyway.  And after the kids went to bed, I watched the Ashland University women's basketball team play in the NCAA Division II national championship game with some friends here at the house.  They lost, but boy, what a game! 

After Pancake Saturday morning (now modified a smidge with these fantasmatic Paleo Pancakes for me and Henry and regular ones for Lyd and Elvis until we're out of pancake mix), we pulled out of the driveway in the new tank and headed to Mansfield for some spring shopping at Kohl's.  After seven solid years of maternity bathing suits or post-baby swimsuits, I bought with confidence a swimsuit that is actually cute.  The kids helped pick out the swimsuit.  Kohl's is a ridiculously dangerous place to shop, because EVERYTHING'S ON SALE, which makes me feel like I can buy more than I actually need.  So... we got Easter dresses, Easter shirts, shorts and pants for skinny-dad, and presents for my mom's 50th birthday.  There's a good chance some of the stuff I bought will be returned later this week, since I found about a dozen Easter-appropriate shirts for the boys when we came home.

The other things I found when we came home were ants.  Loads and loads of ants piled up on the floor in the kitchen.  Apparently I dripped something from breakfast onto the floor and didn't get it cleaned up.  Their congregation on the floor made extermination a breeze, though, and I haven't seen another one since.  I'm sure everyone else has noticed the alarming abundance of insects out already this year.  We don't usually have ant issues until summer.  It's March (in case you missed it).  Looks like we're in for a buggy year.

To sum up the rest of the weekend, there was a visit to the bookstore, a symphony event at the university, a trip to Medina for dinner with my folks, and church this morning.  I'm hoping to spend the rest of the afternoon finishing up the clothes sorting and getting the house in order before the work week.  We're heading to D.C. for a long weekend over spring break (woo hoo!), and I'd like to have most things in order before the week gets going. So, I'm planning on trying blackened chicken and guacamole with some sweet potato wedges for dinner tonight, something quick to prep and cook without a whole lot of attention. 

It's been a full weekend, for sure, the kind of weekend that makes you feel like the time was well-spent.  We milked every minute. 

Standing in the Snow Crying

We took the kids out to play in the snow this morning for about an hour. Elvis hated it and Lydia loved it. Elvis wouldn't move if I put him down - he seriously looked like that kid in the Christmas Story. He would look up at me and just start moaning. It was so sad. Lydia was all over the snow - stomping around, falling face-first on purpose, and throwing snow up in the air like leaves. I showed her how to make an angel in the snow but she wasn't interested in giving it a try herself - instead, she stomped all over it. A great morning, all in all. AND we got the driveway shoveled in the process.

Elvis has taken to sticking his head into the water when he takes a bath. He seems to love hearing the swishing and muted sounds of the water, but occasionally, he miscalculates the time he's under or the distance his mouth is from the water and ends of choking. He did this again tonight, and every time it happens, my heart jumps and I go back to those first few days of his life when his lungs just wouldn't cooperate with the need for air. I still wonder if he's going to be "ok," but really - what person is "ok"? There's always something wrong with us, one way or the other. And to worry about it is ridiculous - he has no signs or symptoms of unokayedness. He's a healthy, happy (as long as he isn't standing in the snow) little boy. Who likes to stick his head under the water. Maybe he'll be a really, really good swimmer. I see a gold medal record-breaker in our future! ;)

Tomorrow should be a pretty laid back day here too - church and then, ahhhhh, no plans. Heaven. Since we did nothing today, I probably ought to contribute toward the household chores by doing laundry and putting some things away. Not a bad idea, eh?

Happy New Year!

I just ventured into Google to find out where I'm popping up these days (as my maiden name - the married version pulls up too many hits), and was sorely disappointed not to see Sarebear's Sentral Spot appearing anymore. So, I dug up the old account and password, which, embarrassingly enough, is the same password I use today with some variation, and I updated the index page. So all you crazy stalkers out there who have been looking for me all these years via Googling, HERE I AM! You found me! I'm much less brilliant than I was a decade ago.

The proof of this brilliantlessness is the fact that I have two children who will be awake in seven hours and I am not sleeping, but instead blinking rapidly in order to find moisture for my dehydrated contact lenses while typing about my pathetic website created during high school. This is the best I can do on a Friday night with the husband in Florida. What can I say?

In other news, we went to the rainforest exhibit at the zoo this afternoon, which was great. I hesitate to add the following point because it almost negates the previous sentence and certainly adds a flair of sarcasm to it, but I think it is a valid comment. So, they pay a woman to sell me tickets to get into the rainforest/zoo approximately 200 feet from the rainforest entrance, AND they pay a nice young lady to sit at the door of the rainforest and collect said tickets into 80-degree rainforest building, but they do NOT pay a nice young lady to tell me that there are coat racks for my fourteen-layered children who will sweat and strip their layers to be handed to me to carry for the duration of the trip. No, they most certainly left out that item on the job description list.

So I lugged three large winter coats around an humid building which also broadcasts fake squawking noises apparently like what you'd hear in a crowded rainforest in December. It was hot. And loud. BUT we really did have a great time, especially at the orangutan exhibit. And Elvis said "fsh fsh fsh fsh fsh fsh" about ten thousand times at the two glass aquariums, which was So. Cute.

We (meaning me and the kids) are staying at my parents' house for the remainder of the weekend while Brandon drives his 85 year old grandmother to Florida, the poor soul. All that warm weather. God save him. And us up here bathing in the anemic rays of the January '09 sun. It's really a pity he isn't here.

Note: Yes, it is now past 11, and my kids will still wake up in less than seven hours, and I am indeed continuing to type ridiculous, unimportant yet mildly entertaining blather.

Christmas and New Years have been delightful, though - so much good times to be had and old friends to see and funny junk to trade in white elephant parties. We have spent every day since December 20 with family, and that is a good thing. I do miss being so close (though an hour and a half really isn't that far, in the grand scheme of global relocation), especially now that my brother is engaged to a very, very nice girl who I am thrilled to have as a soon-to-be sister-in-law. Family becomes increasingly important to me. I don't think I would be so opposed to a Great Depression-esque situation that would force extended families to move in under the same roof and start farming again. Yes, I am a sick, sick 21st century female. I'd even opt in for making many babies and canning tomatoes. Though I'd need to learn how. To can tomatoes.

Happy new year, 2009! I hope all of your recession dreams come true!

Monday Recap

I am still bubbling over a bit about this whole chapbook thing. Chapbooks, for those who aren't as bookish and nerdy as me, are kind of like mini-books or half the typical poetry manuscript. They generally consist of 15-25 pages of poems by one author. They are printed in limited edition print runs and usually centered around a particular theme. Mine is titled, Acquiesce and has poems wrapped around the idea of accepting loss, giving in to God's will, and letting go. I'm still a bit taken aback that it happened just like that... but it did!

Besides the sudden and random onslaught of "oh yeah! I'm published! Eep!", this weekend was a mixed bag. I had a great time with the kids, Bible study was great, church was great, hanging out with a bunch of college students was a blast, and I painted the living room red, again, while listening to the presidential nominees debate. Good times.

There were some less pleasant moments, but all in all, a good weekend.

I am debating whether to go database some more or just work on poetry. There are two days until the boss-man gets back in the office and then we can start going over the "Stuff for Steve" folder. At that point, I imagine my writing taking a backseat, or perhaps the trunk, to all of the business-related work I have coming up. And that's a good thing. I have a lot of plans and ideas I want to start executing for the program, but I haven't been able to do any of it because he's out of the office so much. How do I sign up for his job?