Busy Little Bees

We've had a busy week. We took a little mini-break and loaded up the kids and went to Wisconsin Dells to stay at a resort with an indoor waterpark. We went with a family that we're friends with and had a great time.

Ok, well, the drive down wasn't so hot. (You know there had to be something, right?) Sue and her kids rode with us since her husband had to work late, so we were packed nice and tight into our van, with me and Eric in the front, my kidlets in the middle and Sue and her two offspring in the back. I could hear our van groaning as we all climbed in. Things were fine for a good, oh, 10 minutes, and then Nora started getting pissed off about something. I think was the fact that she had to stare at three people she barely knew in the backseat. It was fun at first and then she realized that they weren't going anywhere and it totally threw her little world out of balance.

So after 900 hours of her screaming and smearing nose goo all over her face and hair, we decided to do something about it and pulled over to make a bottle. For some reason, this bottle was not acceptable for Her Majesty and was promptly rejected. Figuring that well, we tried, we stuck her back in her car seat and continued driving, as she continued screaming. Finally, since I knew there were three other kids in the back trying to sleep, and poor Sue probably was feeling a little ill watching Nora use snot as hair gel, I lumbered over the center console into the back. This is where I stuffed my big butt in between the two captain's chairs and squatted on the floor, facing backwards, to try and convince her to eat.

Now, this was a lot of fun. I get motion sickness really easily, so facing backwards while squatting on the floor of a moving vehicle is not really on my top 10 list of of fun things to do. At least I wasn't subjecting Sue and her kids to the lovely sight of my butt crack sticking out of my jeans. I saved that for Eric in the front seat, everytime he turned around. Plus my legs were completely asleep and I was pretty sure that my toes were turning black due to lack of circulation. But hey, as long as Nora was silent.

So we get to the resort, check into our condo, and proceed to have a lot of fun for the next two days. Well, waking up at 5 am with the kids wasn't the best part, but when you have three kids sharing a bedroom, they spend a lot of time in there plotting how to make things just a little more difficult for their poor unsuspecting parents. I kept expecting to hear little evil cackles wafting out under the door, and at some point a declaration of "...And then the world will be MINE! MUA HA HA!!" That would have been Tate, obviously.

And please give me the crappy mother award because I took about 5 pictures the whole time, and they all ended up being of a big splash of water with Tate's foot or other random appendage sticking out. I never quite got the shot I was going for. But I was having too much fun playing with the kids to be bothered to actually preserve the moment for later.

And since it's been awhile since we've had a Grocery Store Trip From Hell blurb, let's go there for a moment. I had to take both kids to the store yesterday since we had no milk or eggs or, well...food, in our house and I heard that feeding your children is generally a good idea. We walk in and Tate starts yelling for his own cart. Last time Eric had taken him, he let him push one of those little carts with the flag that states "I'm Helping!" It did not, he informed me grimly upon returning home, go well. After the 4000th time of Tate picking some random can of tuna, baked beans, or sardines off the shelf and chucking into his cart and Eric discovering it 3 aisles later and having to go back and return it to the shelf, he decided that it was not working. The shopping trip commenced with Eric pushing the big cart, pulling the little cart, and ignoring a squalling Tate tucked under his arm.

So anyway, no little cart for Tate, which of course turned into a huge protest on his part. As some random dude observed as he walked by us, Tate was "not a happy camper". Thanks, buddy. I had no idea. Even better, there were no racing car carts left where the kids could both sit in the drivers seat, so I had to use a regular cart and put Nora in the seat and Tate in the actual cart, where he promptly got completely buried by groceries. It looked like he had no legs. Although, that was actually kind of a good thing. The kid can't stand up and try to jump out of the cart when he's got 30 pounds of potatoes and apples pinning his legs down.

And the best part. We leave the store, it's sleeting out, Nora's hollering for lunch, etc etc etc. I march up to our car, wonder why the hell th remote start didn't work, haul Tate out of the cart and frantically try to unlock the back doors with the remote. Not working. I try to unlock the front doors and the back gate. Nope. At this point both kids are screaming, I'm holding on to Tate by his hood so he doesn't run away, Nora's trying to climb out of the cart, the groceries are getting wet, and I'm freaking out, yelling "WHAT THE HELL??" because obviously someone out there hates me and has tampered with my remote control. Just as I'm wondering who I could possibly call to freak out at and insist they come and help me, I look more closely at the van and realize I can see my reflection in the side of it. Which means it's clean. Which means it's not our van.

I locate our van 3 aisles over and leave. Really, what else is there to say.

Except this. If any of you live in Green Bay, have a light blue Town and Country, and go to Festival Foods on the East Side very often, you're gonna have to sell your car. It's causing me way too much confusion and consternation. Thanks a bunch.