At 10:07 tonight I will have been a mother for exactly 12 years. I thought I was prepared. Glenn and I had been married for about a year and a half. We were both in our thirties. We planned for the pregnancy and had all the gear "necessary" for having a baby. I had a huge baby shower and got everything from a glider rocker to a moist wipes warmer and everything in between. When Robert made his debut into this world I was overwhelmed with love and fear.I knew his cry as soon as he was born, and knew the nurses were bringing him to me when I could hear him crying down the hall. I knew. The hospital was full of babies that week, but I knew his cry over all others. Holding him in my arms as he slept filled me with pride I had never felt before. The fear came on day three. The day we had to take him home. That's when I realized I wasn't prepared. Not at all. I had never spent any length of time with a newborn. What was I going to do with this new little person? What if I dropped him? What if I forgot him in the car? What if the house caught on fire? What if, what if, what if... Fortunately for me, Robert was an incredibly calm baby, which calmed me. He rarely cried. When he did cry he usually had a reason. He was either hungry or tired. Within the first couple weeks I was able to decipher what each of his cries meant and was becoming more and more confident in my mothering skills.

Week six I was once again gripped with fear. A fear that had me sitting in a dark room, clutching my baby and crying for hours. I noticed one of his pupils was bigger than the other. It was a big difference and I was convinced it was the symptom of a brain injury or eye injury. The night I discovered the pupil anomaly was the longest night of my life up to that point. I called the pediatrician as soon as their office opened in the morning. The earliest appointment was much later in the day. Anguish. Glenn was flying and called home every time he had a layover. He wanted to come home, but I convinced him to keep working. I would let him know if I needed him to come home. The pediatrician wasn't concerned. Wouldn't even give me a referral. I got one of those "over-protective mother" looks. That didn't sit well with me. I knew that pupils should be more uniform. Fortunately, we had great health insurance at the time and I didn't need a referral to see an ophthalmologist. As soon as I got home from the pediatrician I started calling ophthalmologists. That's how I found Dr. Hodges in Frederick. He made room in his schedule to see me the very next day. Glenn was home for that appointment, and it was great to have someone to lean on. Dr. Hodges was wonderful. He did a complete eye exam on Robert, while he was asleep, I might add, and diagnosed him with anisocoria. Which simply means one pupil is larger than the other. He admitted that Robert's was fairly significant and would probably remain so forever. He told me to mention it if Robert ever received a blow to the head because it could cause alarm to an EMT or emergency room doctor. Other than that, there is no treatment and it's not damaging in any way. What a relief. I'm sure the pediatrician has seen many, many cases of anisocoria and since it wasn't accompanied by any other symptoms knew it was harmless. Unfortunately he didn't think it was necessary to explain it to me as thoroughly as Dr. Hodges did. I became a big fan of Dr. Hodges that day and have used him as my ophthalmologist ever since. If you're in the Frederick area and you need a ophthalmologist for yourself or your child, please give him a call. Tell him Robert's mom sent you.

Since then Robert has remained very healthy. He's had his share of colds, and he once had the rotovirus. That was gross. He and Glenn fell down concrete steps once and he hit his head on the sidewalk. Other than a faint scar on his forehead you wouldn't know it. He has broken his wrist slipping in our driveway on an icy morning. Just your usual, run of the mill childhood bumps and bruises.

He had his first day of pre-school, his first day of kindergarten, first day of middle school and will be having his first day of 7th grade next Monday. He is a great big brother to Reid and Sean, and both love him dearly. He's a deep thinker and a worrier. He likes rules, and expects everyone to follow them. He thinks life should be fair and is often shaken to his core when he sees evidence that it isn't. His teachers love him and his peers are perplexed by him. He doesn't make friends easily, but is very loyal to those he has. He doesn't love sports, but know it pleases Glenn and me when he plays, so he does. He takes great pride in his accomplishments and deep pain in his failures. He makes me proud. I never realized how deeply I could love another person until that little person came into my life. When he's joyful, I'm joyful, when his heart breaks, mine breaks as well. I want to shield him from this world for as long as I can because I know that to mature into a full fledged adult you have to have pain and sorrow. I don't want those for my sweet Robert. I want to magically go back in time when all I needed to do to calm him as sit in that glider rocker, hold him tight and sing him a song. He's in that funny time between child and teenager. He still likes to be tucked in but no longer sleeps with stuffed animals. He will still give me a hug and kiss goodbye in the morning as long as it's before the bus comes into view. He likes to stay home by himself as longs as it's not too long. I know the day is coming when he will feel like he doesn't need me anymore. I also know the day is coming when he will realize he does need me. I'll always be here, and so will my glider rocker.

Maine

Yes, we've been back from New England for several days, and no I haven't gotten around to blogging about it. I have my excuses. First of all, we didn't have wi-fi access in Maine. I know I could have typed it up and then posted it when I found a hot spot, but I didn't, so there. My second excuse is that I picked up food poisoning somewhere along the way. I suspect a certain fast food Italian place at a rest stop in Massachusetts, but I don't have proof, so I won't name names. Once I was home and recovered from that I just got busy with life. Laundry had to be done, meals had to be prepared, errands had to be run. The boys start school in less than a week and they needed all of their school supplies. I never did find the "Primary" Composition books that the first grade teachers want. I go through this every time I've have a first grader. After four stores and several hours I gave up. Sean will be going into first grade with plain old Composition books.

That brings me back to New England, Maine specifically. I've glanced through my pictures to refresh my memory and now feel prepared to blog about our final New England destination. Maine is everything I hoped it would be. Our first full day in Maine we took the boys to Acadia National Park. I didn't know anything about the park other than it is a great place to find tidal pools (thanks Joy). But it is so much more. Our first stop was, of course, the Visitor Center. It was slightly disorganized and crazy busy for a Wednesday morning. We had to wait in two lines for a total of about 30 minutes to get our car tag and to get the boys their Junior Ranger booklets. I got slightly miffed when I was asked to produce the children before they would give me the booklets. Glenn had taken them to look around the visitors center while I stood in line. Anybody with children can understand this tactic. I gave her the disapproval threesome, the lip snarl, eye roll, deep sigh. Fortunately, Glenn was close by so I didn't have to shout across the room. Once I proved I had three children of Junior Ranger age she handed over the super secret booklets. She muttered something about people lying about having children to get them. I modified the disapproval threesome to an eye roll, gritted teeth smile and a head shake. I wanted to remind her that a majority of the people who wander into national parks every year are tax paying citizens and if they want a Jr. Ranger booklet, the park service should gladly hand them over. I let it go.

While Glenn was wandering through the Visitor Center he bought an auto tour CD. I would say the best $13 spent that day. We got our our map, looked at the Jr. Ranger booklets to check the requirements and planned our visit. One of the activities the boys needed to do was attend a Ranger led program. There was a "Secrets of the Summit" hike on top of Cadillac Mountain starting in an hour, so we decided to head up there. We popped the CD into the car and began our auto tour up the mountain. There were lots of beautiful places to pull over and admire the view as we ascended the mountain. Below us was the town of Bar Harbor, Maine. Surrounding Bar Harbor are several small islands called the Porcupine Islands because they sort of look like porcupines lying in the water. If porcupines had green quills that is. Reid was especially intrigued by the Porcupine Islands since he is currently developing his own super hero "The Porcupine". He hopes to get a job with Marvel some day and "The Porcupine" will be his ticket in. I digress. Bar Harbor, as seen from Cadillac Mountain, is breathtaking. There were sailboats gliding gracefully into and out of port, a tall ship with four masts off in the distance and a cruise ship from Celebrity anchored in open water several yards from shore.

We made it to the top of Cadillac Mountain and found a parking place, no small feat I might add. Parking is a bit of a mess at Acadia. They should talk to the people at Zion. No private cars are allowed at Zion, but the bus service is fantastic, so you don't mind. We found our Park Ranger and began the "Secrets of the Summit" hike. We hiked to the "True Summit" of the mountain, saw the remains of a hotel that was built and burned to the ground the same year in the early part of the 20th Century, and fulfilled a Junior Ranger requirement. After the program we hiked around the top of the mountain for a little while, sat and had a snack then piled back into the car. Sean wanted to go to the beach. He wasn't going to rest, or give up peace until he got to the beach. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that the beach and the top of a mountain aren't that close. So we descended the mountain. Parking at the beach is even worse than parking on the mountain. We looked for a parking place for a good twenty minutes before we found a spot at least a mile from where we wanted to be. Sean and Reid were the only two Andersons the slightest bit interested in getting into the cold North Atlantic waters. When I say cold I mean 58 degrees. I got a little chill just now. Sean rushed in and if he was bothered by the cold didn't show it. Reid managed to stay pretty dry. He only went in about as deep as his knees. Maybe 6 year olds are impervious to cold. I can't explain it. When it was time to leave he didn't want to go. He was having a great time.

Once we dragged Sean out of the ocean and got him changed we took the mile hike back to our car to head to our next destination "Thunder Hole". Glenn put the car in gear, drove about 10 yards and we were there. We had no idea we were so close or we wouldn't have given up our parking spot. We literally turned a corner and there it was. Fortunately it was getting late enough in the day that parking was no longer an issue. We got back out of the car and crossed the street, went down the stairs and waited for the tide to come in. "Thunder Hole" did not disappoint. "Thunder Hole" is a small inlet, naturally carved out of the rocks, where the waves roll into. At the end of this inlet, down low, is a small cavern where, when the rush of the wave arrives, air and water is forced out like a clap of distant thunder. (This definition provided by acadiamagic.com) It was very exciting. It was just starting to thunder. I'm sure if we had stuck around for an hour or more we would have been treated to louder thunder and large sprays of water. We have three children with us, there was no way we were going to stand around for an hour.

Next came the tidal pools. I was so excited to see the tidal pools. We drove a ways down the road and came to a rocky area. We jumped out of the car and climbed down to the rocks and began looking around. Soon we came upon another couple who were holding sea urchins. I don't think the park service approves of such thing, but since they were holding them, what could we do but take a look, right? As soon as we got down there the man held his hand out to me and then brushed the sea urchin into my hand. Not what I was expecting, but interesting. I held it down so the boys could see it then quickly placed it back in the tidal pool with its sea urchin friends. We jumped from rock to rock finding more and more sea life. Mostly seaweed, and clams, and crab shells. These rocks seem to be a favorite feasting place of seagulls and crabs seem to be their favorite feast.

It was starting to get dark, so we regretfully left the tidal pools and went back to the Visitor Center to collect our Junior Ranger badges. They didn't have badges there, so the boys picked up spiffy patches. Sean was happy. He prefers the patch over the badge. I'm not sure why. Three tired boys and two tired parents crawled back into the car and made our way back to the campground.

The next morning we had breakfast at the "Log Cabin" which had wonderfully crisp bacon on the buffet. I love bacon nice and crispy, but unfortunately rarely get it when eating at a restaurant. Log Cabin had it and I was pleased. Once we had our fill we drove into the town of Bar Harbor. More parking issues cropped up, but we finally found a spot. Thank goodness our tow vehicle is a Ford Fusion. Anything bigger and we would not have fit into that parallel parking spot. The main item on our agenda for the day was to walk across the dry sand bar from Bar Harbor to Bar Island. This feat can only be accomplished during low tide. Once the tide comes in the bar is covered and I don't know what happens to the people stuck on Bar Island. Once onto the dry sand bar we marveled at how clear the water was around us. We also marveled at the fog that was covering several of the Porcupine Islands. It was "mysterious" as Reid said. I've never seen anything like it. The fog just hung over a couple of the islands, it didn't roll into Bar Harbor or over Bar Island. At one point a four masted schooner sailed by one of the islands and it made for a picture perfect scene. On the walk we all tried our hand at skipping stones and watched a seagull pick up a clam, fly high up into the air, drop it, and start the whole process over again. The seagull repeated this process three or four times until the clam was broken open enough to get to the oyster inside. How smart is that? I have a whole new respect for seagulls. Robert was starting to get nervous because he knew that eventually the sand bar would become covered by water, and he didn't want to get stuck. Glenn and I were confident that wasn't go to happen, but didn't see any reason to let him stress, so we got moving.

Bar Island is a primitive island with hiking trails and nothing else. We didn't know where the trails led but decided to take the one most traveled. It was a good choice. It led us to the summit of Bar Island. From there we had a great view of Bar Harbor and the other islands, as well as that mysterious fog. We had a snack on top of the island then headed back down. Over the sand bar once again and back to Bar Harbor. Once back in Bar Harbor we hiked the Seawall trail past beautiful homes on one side and luxurious yachts on the other. We didn't see any "open house/yacht" signs, much to my disappointment, so we could only admire from the outside. The breeze coming off the ocean was very chilly and helped keep the kids moving. The end of the trail dumped us into a neighborhood and we had to rely on our collective sense of direction to get us back into town. Fortunately, sense of direction is something Glenn and I both have. I can't tell my left hand from my right hand, but I know my directions. In town we stopped for ice cream before leaving Bar Harbor behind.

Back in our RV we had a nice meal together, played round after round of Spoons and called it a night. Early the next morning we began or trip home, essentially saying good-bye to our summer of fun. We packed a lot of excitement into a short summer vacation. We put over 5000 miles on our RV and were awed by the beauty and majesty this great nation of ours has to offer. This is a summer we won't forget. It has brought our family a little closer together and we are all excited about planning our summer odyssey next year. Until then, I will keep my blog followers entertained with the day to day experiences of being a "Mother of Boys.

Whew, I'm beat. We left for our New England trip on Friday morning. We kept meaning to study the map and come up with a good plan for avoiding NYC, but as is par for Glenn and me, we never got around to it. So there we were driving along on a collision course with Friday afternoon I-95 traffic in and around NYC; I'm studying the atlas and Glenn is trying to figure out what the GPS wants him to do as we are racing around the Baltimore beltway. We finally devised a plan which took us about 100 miles out of the way, but avoided the weekend mass exodus of Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, etc. Although we ended up driving out of our way, I'm fairly confident we avoided a ton of traffic and more gray hairs.

We finally got to our campground, southwest of Boston just as the sun was going down. I hate setting up the RV in the dark, but what are you gonna do? Of course, since it was dark, our campsite had to be about as unlevel as any campsite can be. I'm standing in the dark, shining a flashlight on the ramps so Glenn can drive the big rig up and we can sleep without all the blood rushing to our heads. I think it worked. We always forget to bring a level, so I have a trusty little rubber ball I put in the middle of the floor to see if it rolls. It works really well, if I do say so myself. As a back-up method we drip a few drops of water in the sink to see if it puddles or rolls. You know what they say, "Necessity is the mother of invention".

We got up late Saturday morning and drove into Boston. Everything was going fine until we were right outside the city, then all of a sudden, traffic came to a screeching halt. We crept along for at least half an hour before we noticed we could shoot over to the HOV lane. We had no idea where it led, but we were confident it couldn't be far from our intended destination. We were right. It led us straight into downtown Boston. It felt like we were all alone. I don't know where those other cars stuck on the freeway were going, but obviously not downtown. We found a parking garage and started walking aimlessly. Glenn's been to Boston quite a bit with his job, so he has an inkling of where things are. Soon we happened upon a map and realized we were only a few blocks from the Old State House, which is conveniently located across the street from the National Park Service Visitor's Center. Much to the boys dismay, we signed them up for the Junior Ranger Program. Which was a great thing to do in Boston, because it makes sure you see all the important sights on the Freedom Trail. In addition to the Old State House, we saw Faneuil Hall, Paul Revere's house, The Old North Church, and The Old South Meeting House. At each stop we had to get our booklet stamped and answer a question or two about the sight. Once they completed the booklet I felt like we had gotten a good taste of historical Boston. We broke down about halfway through the trail and bought passes to one of the tour buses. That made getting around much easier.

To end our day in Boston we took a harbor cruise. I would like to say it was fun and educational. I haven't a clue. Why? Because Sean, whom I love dearly, was being a total pill. Honestly, it was all I could do to keep from throwing him overboard. For whatever reason he got it in his head that he wanted to sit on the lower deck. You know, the deck that is practically even with the water line and you can't see anything from. I nixed that idea, Glenn and I decided to sit on the second deck, that way we would have a little shelter from the coolness and the sun. We hit Boston on possibly the best day ever for August. The temperature was warm, but not the slightest bit hot. Once we got on the boat, the temp dropped slightly and so there was definitely a chill in the air. Everyone was happy with the second deck, except Sean that is. He carried on, crying and complaining that he was cold, or hot or tired or whatever else would pop into his brain so that he could get his way. I held out for at least 30 minutes before I could take it no longer. By now I had a splitting headache and was on the verge of losing it. I grabbed him by the hand and dragged him down to the lower deck where I made him sit, without talking for the rest of the cruise. I had to sit there with him, but at least he was quiet.

After the cruise we found our way back to our car and drove to the campsite. I headed straight to the bed and Glenn took the boys to the pool. I did drag myself out of bed long enough to scrounge up some grub for the family. The whole time I was wishing I could lose the headache or at least climb back to bed. Fortunately, Glenn took over once dinner was served and he got the boys ready for bed and the dishes cleaned up.

I woke up this morning with the same headache, but I was determined not to let it ruin my day. I made pancakes for my crew and then we went to Plymouth to see the rock and the Mayflower II. The Mayflower is no longer, but the Mayflower II is supposed to be an exact replica. We didn't take the time to go inside because the boys has the beach on their minds. We had promised them a day at Cape Cod, on the beach and that's all they really cared about. If you've seen one rock that the pilgrims landed on, you've seen them all, right?

On we went to Cape Cod. It took us about an hour and a half to get there because traffic was horrible and there is only one road in and out. We drove up to the National Seashore because we knew there would be a fee to get in, however we have our Park Pass, so we wouldn't have to pay. The theory being that people aren't going to pay for a beach when there are public beaches all over the place. Good theory, except that this was a free weekend. I don't know why, but it was. We were on Marconi Beach with about twenty thousand of our closest friends, trying to find a spot to put our stuff down. It was crazy. To make matters worse, the temperature was about 65 degrees and the water temperature was only 64 degrees. Not the best beach day. The kids didn't care. They splashed around with wild abandon. In the meantime Glenn and I are taking turns standing in the water. We take our responsibility as parents very seriously and didn't feel comfortable letting them hang out in the ocean alone. Speaking of the ocean, the waves were out of control. They were coming in fast and furious. The lifeguard had to come off his stand and get people to move down at one point. I don't know if he could spot an undercurrent or what, but I was slightly alarmed. We lasted for about 2 hours. Considering my disdain for crowds, I would say that's a crowning achievement. The crowds wouldn't have been too bad, but for whatever reason we were surrounded by people who didn't realize they were part of a large crowd. We had the kids to our left playing soccer, the adults to our right playing paddle ball and the people behind us playing football. What's wrong with these people? The kids playing soccer finally moved when the ball got a little too close to me and I gave them the "if that ball hits me you will never see it again" look.

The boys did not want to leave, but hunger finally overtook all of us. Usually I plan better than today and would have had snacks at least, but my head was pounding this morning and I'm lucky I remembered to pack swimsuits. Here comes my big gripe concerning Cape Cod... ready? Very few restaurants. We drove forever trying to find someplace we could all agree upon. I guess I should rephrase that. Actually there are plenty of restaurants if you love seafood. Unfortunately, none of us do. I'll eat the occasional shrimp if prepared right, but I don't care for lobster or fish of any kind. Glenn's only slightly better, he will eat lobster, but doesn't love it. The boys have never tried seafood and Sean hates everything, so we knew seafood was out of the question. We finally found an overpriced panini/pizza joint that also served cheeseburgers. Everyone was happy. Well as happy as you can be in an overpriced panini/pizza joint. Once we got our tummies filled we drove around the cape a little bit more before heading back towards Boston. We got back to the campground early enough that the boys could spend some time jumping on the giant jumping pillow that are all the rage now at KOAs. Everyone is finally asleep and I should be too. Probably won't have much to blog about tomorrow. It's going to be a quiet day. We are leaving for Maine and Acadia National Park on Tuesday. Looking forward to that. I'll keep you posted.

When Did I Become an Idiot?

When my oldest son Robert was born, almost 12 years ago, I was his world. He wouldn’t even allow anybody else to feed him; it was all mommy, all the time. As he grew he continued to hold me in high esteem. I could always count on him for big hugs and kisses many times throughout the day. He used to come to me for the answer to all of life’s burning questions, and I always tried to answer them to the best of my knowledge. The questions in the early years were fairly easy, “Where does the poop go after you flush it?” As he got older, the questions became a little more challenging and we would often go online and look up the answers together. “What does the Woolly Caterpillar become?” But, I was still the one he looked to for the answers. All of that has changed.

I’m not exactly sure when the change occurred; perhaps it was around the same time his obsession with “Star Wars” began. He would ask me questions that only another “Star Wars” obsessed individual would be able to answer. Invariably I would have to refer him to his father. One day he said to me “You know Mom, Dad is smarter than you.” While this may be true in the strict IQ sense of the definition, it still hurt. Very calmly I asked, “Why would you say that?” His matter of fact response, “You don’t know anything about Star Wars.” I laughed it off. Sure he knows not to come to me for Star Wars questions, but he must know that I am smart about other things. But no, he has decided that I am a complete idiot and cannot function without his “help”. As soon as we get in the car to go anywhere I always hear from the back seat. “Do you know where we are going?” Or sometimes the variation, “Do you know how to get there?” When I am looking over his homework “Do you understand what I am doing?” The worse is when he checks my answers with my husband. As if he can’t accept that what I said could possibly be right. Just the other day he had a question about solar flares. I gave him a very complete and correct answer. Later, in the car he asked his father the very same question. I couldn’t believe it. Shocked I asked “Didn’t I just tell you the same thing?” He answered, “yeah, but it didn’t sound right so I wanted to check with Dad.”

I would like to say that I understand this is a natural part of growing up and that I don’t take it personally, but I can’t. It annoys me. When we are backing out of the driveway and he asks me some asinine question about whether or not I know where we are going I very often get sarcastic in my response. “Oh no, I thought we would just drive around aimlessly and hope we come upon it.” Sometimes I just get angry. “Do you think I am a complete moron, why would we be in the car if I didn’t know where we were going?” Before you judge me too harshly for my anger, please be aware that I have three boys who can never find their shoes when it is time to leave and who can never get into the car without some sort of altercation. So I am never in a good mood when we are leaving the house. When the questions start, it is really all I can do to keep from stopping the car and screaming at the top of my lungs. “I am not an idiot; I got along just fine before you were born. I actually went to college had a job and was able to feed, dress myself and find my way to and from work every day. All without some smart mouthed twelve year old telling me what to do and how to get there.”

I don’t know when the tide will turn. I have a feeling this is just the tip of the iceberg. He has recently started adding the deep sighs and eye rolling to his repertoire of activities to show me his disdain for my lack of intelligence. I’m told the teen years are worse. I can hardly wait.

Oh, in case you were wondering, the Woolly Caterpillar becomes a simple brown moth. Nothing too spectacular. I was disappointed too.

Time Wasting 101

My children could teach a college level course entitled "Wasting Time 101". I find it truly amazing that the simplest task can take ten times longer than it should. Bedtime is when their true expertise shines. It goes something like this "guys, head upstairs and start getting ready for bed". That begins the "I'm going first" argument. Not to be confused with the "I'm going last" argument that used to be the main bedtime argument. I'm not exactly sure when the flip flop occurred, but I'm guessing someone realized the last man standing wasn't guaranteed hot water. Unless I step in and choose who is going first the argument will continue for a good 20 minutes with nobody doing anything remotely related to getting ready for bed. The actual showers are another problem altogether. I don't understand how such small people can take take such long showers. I sort of get Reid. He's never done anthing quick. I've always called him my "stop and smell the roses" kid. He sings in the shower, he remembers jokes that he has to call out while he's in there. Pretty much anything and everything except shower. I do my best thinking while I'm in the shower, so I get it, but his brothers have picked up on this luxuriating and have started doing the same. Sean still needs me to help him out while he's showering, so the shampooing and soaping go pretty quickly, but he like to hang out and rinse slowly.

Ideally, while one child is in the shower the other two should be getting their teeth flossed, brushed and floride rinsed. Ideally. This rarely happens. What generally happens is toys get dragged out, or that's when someone decides he must straighten his closet, but usually a good old fashioned wrestling match ensues. Which always leads to someone getting hurt. I don't expect them to be obedient little robots, but I don't think it's too much to ask that they stop fooling around. I give them lots of playtime throughout the day, so knock it off for heaven's sake.

Getting shoes on is another issue in our house. The shoes sit by the side door so they can get them on and walk out to the breezeway which will then take them to the garage or outside depending on what we're doing. I can't tell you how many times during the school year I say to one or all of my boys "It's going to be sad if you miss the bus because you were fooling around with your shoes." I don't get it. They sit down on the floor and it's like time stands still. They start talking, usually about something inane such as Star Wars or the latest video game, the talk turns to laughter or arguments. It doesn't matter, they are completely incapable of multi-tasking. If they are talking they aren't getting their shoes on. They are just sitting there. It's absolutely maddening. So I end up yelling at them to hurry up. My latest phrase, which I use too often and always through gritted teeth is, "While I'm still alive, please". "TODAY!" is another favorite.

I am truly exasperated. No matter the task, they manage to drag it out. Washing hands for dinner, at least 10 minutes. Getting out of the car and into the house, 10 minutes, though one will come in, kick off his shoes so that he can't find them later and leave the door wide open. Eventually the other two will find their way into the house, but not before a fly or moth gets in first.

My boys could drive an efficiency expert to drink. I have tried everything to stop this insanity, but nothing seems to work. Dr. Phil always says that you get some sort of payoff for your behavior. I have yet to figure out what the payoff is for my children. Maybe they are trying to see how far they can push me. Maybe they love to hear me shriek. Maybe they are waiting to see if my head will actually explode. I don't know. Should I mellow? Is it the end of the world if they miss the bus or if dinner is cold or it takes them two hours to get ready for bed? I could start the bedtime routine at 6:30, and I can call them up for dinner before it's actually on the table. I could even drive them to school if I had to. That might even cure them. Maybe if they see how inconvenienced they are by their own behavior they will begin to change it. That's it, that's my new plan. I'll let you know how it works out for me.

Oddities

Traveling around the country, as we just did, I noticed a few oddities. Let's start with the human kind. Footwear. I couldn't help noticing that people wear inappropriate footwear all the time. While climbing in and out of the Grand Canyon I saw flip flops galore. Who in their right mind wears flip flops to climb the Grand Canyon? I saw one little girl in strappy sandals with her foot wrapped loosely in gauze. So obviously she already had one foot injury, I guess she was angling for another. I can't blame her for the poor shoe choice, she was probably only seven or eight years old. Did her parents just happen upon the Grand Canyon by accident and only then realize she didn't have appropriate shoes? I may be a bit biased, I am a big fan of the sneaker. I wear sneakers whenever I know there is going to be a lot of walking involved. You won't find me in flip flops at an amusement park. I'll be wearing my New Balance, fully enclosed, sneaker. I don't want to have my toes stepped on, I don't want somebody stepping on the heal of my flip flop and tripping me. I don't want to lose a shoe on a ride, or a canyon, for that matter. Nothing disgusts me more than the thought of walking around in public areas barefoot. I don't need some weird foot fungus, thank you very much.

Signs also gave me a chuckle while traveling. I don't know why the US doesn't have standardized signage on our highways, but we don't. Some states post ice warnings in a very concise manner, i.e. Watch for Ice on Bridge. That's simple enough. I think we all know what that means, don't we? In Arkansas the signs go on and on, as if we aren't smart enough to figure it out on our own. I don't remember the exact wording, but the signs read something like this. "Warning, Bridge May Become Icy in Cold Weather". Really, just cold weather? We don't have to worry about it in the middle of summer when the temps are in the upper 90's? Another sign that made me laugh was in New Mexico. It reads "Dust Storms May Exist". Is this some sort of existential mumbo jumbo? I'm pretty sure they do exist. I lived in Oklahoma long enough to see one or two. I think science will back me up on this one. Be bold New Mexico, walk out on the proverbial limb, say it loud and proud "DUST STORMS DO EXIST". Of course no discussion on wacky signs would be complete without my all time favorite. We didn't see this one on our travels since we didn't go through Oklahoma, but I used to see it all the time when I worked in Oklahoma City. Are you ready? "Hitchhikers May Be Escaping Inmates". I feel sorry for the hitchhikers, if the inmates are after them, shouldn't we help them? Oh, you mean the hitchhiker are the inmates. Oh, okay. Well then shouldn't the sign read "Hitchhikers May Be Escaped Inmates"? If they have left the walls of the prison I would say they are no longer escaping, but have in fact, escaped. True?

Some signs are just cute. I have attached a picture of my favorite from our travels. It was at one of the viewing areas in Bryce Canyon. Just goes to show our National Park Service has a good sense of humor. I would love to hear some of your stories. Comment below if you have seen an absurd sign or odd human behavior that you would like to discuss.

I sit here in an Indianapolis KOA feeling slightly conflicted. On one hand, we are going to be home tomorrow. Home means my own comfortable bed, a whole floor away from my children. Home also means shower with plenty of water pressure and hot water. And home means spreading out and having room to move around in my house. On the flip side, home means no more glorious cliffs to gaze upon. No more hikes through emerald waters. Home means cable TV, so I’ll have to hear complaints when I turn it off and suggest a game of Spoons or Farkel.

There lies my conflict. By nature I’m a homebody. I’m not someone you will find out and about for no reason. If I’m not working and the kids are at school I’m most likely sitting at home reading, watching tv or catching up on housework. But summer vacation brings out the adventurer in me. I want to get outside and hike or bike and explore. I want to see things I’ve never seen before and push myself out of my comfort zone. But the comfort zone is calling. This time tomorrow I’ll be smack dab in the middle of it. I can’t wait. I’m so tired of adventure. Yet, I know I’ll miss it.

To catch you up on the last few days of our vacation, I have to go back to Sunday. We got up early and left our campground just outside of Mesa Verde. We decided to make that our last Junior Ranger stop of this trip. I’m sure Mesa Verde is a perfectly lovely place, but we started off on the wrong foot. For starters, nobody told us you can’t tow a vehicle in there. So we had to disconnect the car from the RV and drive the car up to the top of the mountain. It makes sense, the roads are very windy and narrow, but it was raining and cold. So already I’m slightly miffed. We cram ourselves into the car and drive up to the Visitors Center. Keep in mind; we have been to seven other National Parks on this trip, so we consider ourselves experts on how things should be run. Mesa Verde does it all wrong. They want you to stand outside in the cold and rain and wait to talk to a ranger about the various options at the park. I guess that’s also where they sell you the passes for the tours too. Way too complicated. We weren’t doing any of the tours. Did I mention it was raining and cold? Did I also mention the tours were all like three hours plus. I’d have to be insane to take three kids on a three hour tour. We all know what happened to Gilligan when he did it. We looked at the brochure they gave us at the gate and knew exactly what we wanted to do; we didn’t need to stand in line to discuss it with anyone. It’s not rocket science. I don’t know why they had to make it so complicated. Being a rebel, I walked in the door on the other side. It didn’t say “Do Not Enter” and nobody tried to stop us, so I kept on going right up to the desk. There was a lovely volunteer standing there, not talking to anyone, so we got our Jr. Ranger booklets and we were on our way, it took all of about 30 seconds.

We drove up to Spruce Tree House and the museum, and walked the path down to the cliff dwelling. It was very cool. It’s amazing to think that people used to live on the underside of cliffs like that. We walked around, got the information we needed to complete the badges and started walking back up the mountain when the skies decided to really open up on us. It was pouring. We finally made it back to the museum, found a helpful Park Ranger, turned in our sopping wet books and the boys got their badges. Back, back, back down the mountain we went to reunite the car with the RV. In the rain Glenn re-connected them while the boys and I took a potty break. Wouldn’t you know it, no paper towels in the ladies room. Grrrr. I had gotten over the “no tow vehicles” and line waiting debacle, but this threw me back into a bad mood. So, needless to say, Mesa Verde is my least favorite National Park right now. Four Corners still ranks number one on the list of biggest waste of time.

Back on the road everything was running smoothly until Glenn got sick. We had to pull over and he rested for about 45 minutes until he felt well enough to move on. By now it was raining again and I recommended we find hotel to stop in for the night. The last thing Glenn needed to do was hook up the RV in the rain. So we stopped at a Holiday Inn Express in La Junta, Colorado for the night. The kids were thrilled to have cable again. It seems we have managed to find every campground between Maryland and Arizona without cable. I was thrilled to have a real bed to sleep in, as was Glenn. By the time we checked into the hotel he was feeling better, but still not great. By the next morning he felt well enough to continue the drive home. It’s a good thing; I didn’t want to have to drive. I’m terribly intimidated by the thought of commanding the big rig.

Our last sight-seeing destination on our trip was Dodge City, Kansas. There’s not much to say about Dodge City. It was okay, but pricy. I preferred Tombstone. We got there late in the day, so we weren’t able to go on any of the tours or anything like that, so that has colored my opinion as well. We may give it another try when we have more time. The original plan was to get there earlier, but since Glenn got sick we ended up stopping early and short of our intended destination the night before. So that, coupled with the free breakfast at the hotel really messed up our time-line. If you have plans to go to Dodge City, please don’t change them based on my experience. We just didn’t get to do much at all. We did eat at a restaurant that served buffalo. Glenn and I had the buffalo sandwiches, of course, but I was pleasantly surprised that my oldest, Robert, opted to have it as well. My kids aren’t known for their culinary experimentation. It was okay. I’ve had better. They didn’t have buffalo burgers, which I think we would have liked better; it was “pulled buffalo”.

Once we “got the heck out of Dodge” we decided to try to make up some of our lost time with a late drive. We stopped for the night at around 1 am in a Walmart parking lot somewhere in Missouri. Glenn was up driving early this morning, and by the time I rolled out of bed we were past St. Louis and almost to Effingham, Illinois. We treated ourselves to breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Mmmmm… I love me some Cracker Barrel.

So that leads us here, a KOA just past Indianapolis. We’ve had our pool time, we roasted s’mores, and we sat out by the fire and talked with the people in the campsite next to us. There’s really nothing left to do but call it a night and start the drive home tomorrow. This truly was a magnificent vacation. I was finally able to fulfill my lifelong dream of going to the Grand Canyon, I’ve hiked the most beautiful trails in America, and I’ve gotten quality time with my husband and children. It was everything I could have hoped for and more. It was so great that we are planning on taking a ten day jaunt into New England and possibly Nova Scotia in a couple of weeks. Where will the road lead us? Who knows, but as long as I’ve got my family with me, who cares?