Celebrating Grandparents' Day with No Grandparents

Since today is grandparents' day and i just lost my grandmother, I wanted to take a minute and post about her.  This will probably be long, I am sorry, so you can scroll on if you like.  

It seems like the more funerals I go to, the harder they become.  Is it because the older I get, the closer I am to the people I lose?  Is it because I have less people that I love left?  My uncle might say that it's because it reminds me of my own mortality.  I think it's because as the scales are tipped, as more people I love wait for me in heaven than are left here on earth, I get homesick.  It's because it's harder to brave this wretched world without those people in your corner.  My grandmother's preacher talked about my grandma being a prayer warrior and it struck me that I lost one more person that advocated for me in prayer.  

My grandparents were my ideals.  My grandpa was the greatest man I ever knew and I want my son to grow up to be like him.  My grandma was the greatest woman I ever knew and I want to be like her when I grow up.  I am not saying they were perfect--I know better.  My grandpa was strong, but funny and ornery.  He had huge hands that built houses, but could cradle my babies with pride and softness.  My grandma was really the only babysitter I ever knew as a kid.  We played dress up and she gave us big spoons to dig in the yard and she sang songs to us, putting our names into them.  She was funny and strong and ornery too.  Once when my brother was little and throwing a fit, she threw herself down on the couch and had herself a fit.  My brother stopped and stared, probably wondering what in the world happened when adults lost it because he'd never seen such a thing before.  Grandma said later that she had to pick herself up before she lost control.  She added that she knew why kids threw fits--it felt good!  Five years ago, when she had breast cancer, she opted for a mastectomy because she didn't have time for chemo or radiation because she was taking care of my papa, who was in the late stages of Parkinson's.  She came home from surgery and got busy doing laundry, kicking it down the hall, and swearing when the kids protested, that she wasn't lifting anything.  She broke her wrist about two years ago, falling in the parking lot of the store.  She did her shopping, including lifting a heavy bag of cat litter or cat food, and drove to my mom's house.  She saw mom was busy doing laundry and said they could just go to the doctor "next week."  She ended up needing a steel plate and screws to put her wrist back together.  And even with a diagnosis of stage 4 pancreatic cancer, she still had her sense of humor.  A nurse was asking her routine questions before a surgical procedure and asked my 88-year-old grandma if she could possibly be pregnant.  Grandma had several liters of fluid built up in her abdominal cavity and she certainly looked very pregnant.  Grandma rubbed her belly and said, "Oh yes, I am due with twins any moment now!  I'm going to get my name in the papers!"  Everyone in the room burst out laughing.  

She rapidly declined and rather than the guess of 3 months the doctor tentatively gave her, it took only 3 weeks and her pain was over and ours began.  Four years and 22 days after we lost Pops, grandma joined him.  I've tried to quantify why I have taken this so hard.  The only thing I can coherently bring together is that I feel lost.  My mom is the only parentage I have left.  No grandparents, no great-grandparents, not even my dad.  We have a 5 generation picture up on the wall in our living room, taken 15 years ago when Arrena was a baby.  In 15 years, we are down to 3 generations.  If I feel that way, I have no doubt that my mom feels even more lost than I do, since she is now the matriarch of our little family.  Have you ever seen the Facebook meme about looking around for an adult and realizing you're it, so you start looking around for someone adult-ier?  My mom no longer has anyone "adult-ier."  She moved a block away from my grandma when Pops died so they could take care of each other (because grandma was a natural caregiver and needed to do that) and much of her life revolved around her mom.  And yet, she seems to be holding up better now than she did before grandma died.  It was the anticipation, she said.  However, I was stoic before and now I am grieving.  

But, we don't grieve as those who have no hope.  When I say I have hope, it's not in the "wish" sense of the word, it is in the assurance as strong as I know that I am breathing and my fingers are typing this.  My grandmother and my grandfather and my dad and others are this minute in heaven with Jesus.  Not because they "believed" there is a God.  Not because they attended church.  Not because they were good people.  Not because they followed some list of rules.  Not because they prayed some "magic prayer" that gave them hell insurance.  Not because they were baptized in a river or a chlorine-cleaned baptismal tank and came back up a wet sinner.  They are in heaven today because they had a relationship with Jesus Christ.  They accepted his forgiveness for their sins when he died on the cross in their place and they followed him until he took them home.  They left behind an example and a legacy of what following Jesus looks like.  They loved Jesus and it showed.  They were kind and loving and forgiving and gentle and selfless and humble and joyful.  I love Jesus and I strive to be like him, but I fail sometimes.  My grandparents are an example of a lifetime of learning and becoming more and more like Jesus.  

I will see them again.  No maybes or wishful thinking or delusions or mindlessly following the masses or positive thinking or "if I'm good enough" or fairy tales or whatever people like to say to excuse our Christian beliefs.  I KNOW.  I am SURE.  I am GUARANTEED.  I stake my life and the lives of my family and my children on this.  THAT is how serious and sure I really am.  My grieving for my grandmother is temporary and selfish because I miss her NOW.  Because I want to be where she is.  I am world weary.  The problems of life physically cause me pain.  And one less person to help me walk through this life breaks my heart.  

I was reading a Max Lucado book and he was writing about Lazarus.  Many people have speculated as to WHY Jesus wept when Lazarus died.  The passage in the book talked about people being in a cage of fear of death.  They had seen Jesus heal people and raise others from the dead, but apparently it wasn't enough for them to believe fully yet.  He related a story of a missionary who went to a remote tribe that was suffering from disease.  All they had to do was cross a river to get to a place that had medicine to heal them.  But, they believed there were evil spirits in the river and they would rather die of the disease than to go near the water.  The missionary told them he had crossed the river to get to them.  They wouldn't get in.  He got in and splashed around and they still wouldn't get in.  Finally, he dove into the river and swam across to the other side and stood on the bank, waving to the tribe, who cheered and then followed him across.  We have a savior who dove into the river of death and swam to the other side and came out alive to show us that we didn't have to be afraid of death--he has conquered death.  Therefore, I don't fear death for me or my loved ones who follow Jesus.  

I asked grandma to give Pops and my dad a hug for me when she got there and I told her I'd meet her there.  I will see them again.  I hope you all, as my friends, will be there too because I have some amazing grandparents that I'd like to introduce you to!  But, first, I want to see my Jesus.

Neighbor Drama

I think we are the most hated people on the block. Seriously. Even more than the red rental house whose occupants have included a creepy guy who strolled around chatting with neighbors and you couldn't get rid of him to save your life, a ghetto-looking family who sat on their front porch to have loud cell phone conversations and let their yappy anklebiter dogs roam the neighborhood and crap in everyone else's yard, or the current residents: young, sketchy-looking guys that play music too loud and speed loud motorcycles up and down the street and that my daughter swears she saw making a drug deal one night.

I'm not overly outgoing. One of my best friends was truly friends with all her neighbors and had them over frequently. I'm not really that type. Hospitality has never been my strong suit. However, we chat with several of our neighbors when we see them, wave at them often, my son plays across the street with the neighbors' grandkids, and I've taken Christmas goodies to several of the neighbors. I even do something gluten-free for the elderly couple next door because i know he has celiac's disease. She's always very nice and friendly to all of us. Her husband has never spoken to us, however, and won't even look our way so we can wave. My son likes to give her May baskets and they've given him little gifts and yummies. The neighbors on the other side are close to our age and are a blended family, as well. He did us a favor, helping with a fence, and in exchange, I said I'd do a free family portrait session for them. That was at least two years ago--I reminded them a couple of times and then let it go. She called me once to ask if I would be willing to babysit their new baby when she went back to work, but she ended up finding someone else before I'd had time to think about it.

A couple of summers back, our basement flooded 5 or 6 times between a clogged sump pump, a broken sump pump, 24 hours without power after a storm, and then just leaking through cracks in the foundation. We lost a lot of belongings. My pictures were stored down there and many were ruined. I lost a couple of bags of clothes and about 75% of my scrapbook paper and lots of keepsakes. I had old books, some nearly 100 years old, that had to be thrown out. The kids lost some toys and dress up clothes. We were hauling things upstairs and laying out blankets and stuffed animals to dry in the back yard. We brought up furniture and bags of ruined items to go to the trash. The clean up was slow since we kept having reoccurrences and life moves on whether you have a disaster or not.  We got a notice from the city that we were in violation of city code, that we couldn't store things outside. One of the neighbor's had complained. We suspected it was the elderly couple because they were the only ones that had a good view of the debris. Thanks for kicking us while we are down. Incidentally, a few months ago, their basement flooded (sewer line issues) and their yard had to be bulldozed and the dirt was dumped in our side yard. The foreman came to the door to make sure it was ok. Rather than being spiteful, I said I understood completely seeing how our basement had flooded multiple times the year before.

My daughters ride the bus with the other neighbors' sons and they were telling us how the boys tell them how their dad criticizes how often we mow our lawn all the time. This from the guy who mows at 8-9pm at night outside my kids' windows when they're going to bed or plays music in the garage by their windows late or whose dogs stand 3 feet from our bedroom window and bark incessantly.

Last week, my husband got a new lawn tractor and mowed for the first time this season. Just learning the new mower, he accidentally sprayed some grass into the elderly neighbors' yard. He apologized to the lady but she started complaining about our dandelions and how it's our fault they have a few dandelions in their yard and that we have the worst yard on the block. My husband has seeded multiple times but the grass is horrible. I used to spray the dandelions but they got too out of hand for spot treating. Between not having the money for unimportant things like grass and not having the time between karate, drama, orchestra, volleyball, scholar bowl, church, babysitting, etc. and having major family issues like court custody battles and my son being hospitalized twice, the lawn is the last thing on my list of priorities. If it bothers the neighbors so much, they can pay for weed and seed and do it themselves. I don't have the time nor do I care about something as insignificant as the grass. Walk a mile in my shoes, then complain. My husband spoke to a lawn company about spraying and reseeding now that he sold the family farm. Maybe then they will be happy.  But, probably not.

Today we were supposed to have our driveway widened. The concrete guys came out and started digging and setting up forms. But "a neighbor" called the city and they came out and demanded a building permit so the guys had to stop and go down to city hall. It took so much time, they couldn't pour the concrete today. But at least the permit is posted now. And whoever complained gets to deal with the mess another day, including a pile of rocks in the street, which I'm surprised they haven't called the police about yet.

Cruise Log Part 6: Look What the Tide Brought in!

Wednesday the 10th we arrived in St. Thomas.  We also went to Charlotte Amalie in St. Thomas on our last cruise.  I love the view from the balcony of the island and all these little sailboats moored and dotting the bay.  It's so picturesque.  Our excursion for the day was to go to Magen's Bay Beach.  Supposedly it is one of the top 10 beaches in the world.  It was very pretty and very fun.  We had an open air bus to take us there.  We were first taken to a scenic overlook where we could see the beach from above and it was beautiful!  There was a lady there with a donkey, that seems to be a famous fixture there because I saw a lot of postcards with that donkey on it, wearing a hat and flowers.  There were also locals selling bottled water because it's more expensive on the beach.

When we got down to Magen's Bay, Scott went to change (I had worn my swimsuit and just put a sarong and a t-shirt on over it) and I went in search of beach chairs to rent.  We set up our chairs and went out into the water.  I had my waterproof camera strapped to my wrist.  It was a beautiful day with blue skies and fluffy white clouds.  The waves were awesome.  It was like being in a wave pool.  If you stayed pretty close to shore, you were really tossed around.  There were teen boys laying on the sand and waiting for the surf to come up and then it would suck them back into the water.  I made the mistake of hanging around in that depth, looking for seashells and got tossed around so much, I had sand all in my swimsuit.  I went out in the water a little farther out to mask what I was doing and pulled my swimsuit away from my body, hoping to wash all of the sand out of it (it didn't work, apparently.  When we got back to our cabin and I peeled off my swimsuit, I was caked with sand).  I was enjoying floating on the water and feeling the waves push and pull me.  I could spend a whole week at that beach.  Or live there!  So peaceful and relaxing.  I finally figured out that there was a little "shelf" near the shore.  It was really fun to let the surf carry you towards the beach, but if you had your legs drawn up, you could brace your feet against that shelf and not be swept along the sand (which is quite abrasive).  Then when the wave went back out, you'd be sucked out again.  I did this back and forth over and over for a while.  I may be easily entertained, but all I wanted for this trip was to relax and de-stress and this was the best of any of it, just floating along with the waves.

When the tour bus was ready to take us back to the dock, we decided to do some shopping.  We have been through some of the shops in St. Thomas before, so we knew the street where most of the major shops were and also the markets near the pier.  Shopping is a big deal in St. Thomas because it's duty free.  They hand out all kinds of coupons and free offers, especially for jewelry.  Next time I go, instead of wasting all kinds of money on the spa, I'll save it for jewelry shopping.  I really love the Tanzanite and the Ammolite and colored opals.  The sales people are a little pushy.  They stand on the sidewalk in front of their shops and try to convince you to go in, even offering you free stuff and nearly pushing you in the door.  One guy seemed very helpful, telling us the layout: this way is food, this way for clothing, that way for jewelry, etc.  But, then he urged us to come in his shop.  One place that I like to go into is Mr. Tablecloth.  They have tons of linens.  Last time, I bought a jacket there.  This time, I got large and small white lacy parasols.  I think they would be adorable in my photography!  Can you imagine a mother/daughter picture?  In the back of the store, there is a small drugstore and we have visited there both times to pick up necessities and a few souvenirs.

After we got back on the ship and showered, we went to La Cucina for dinner, which is the Italian restaurant on-board.

Cruise Log Part 5: Land Ho!

Tuesday, the 9th, we arrived in St. Maarten (or St. Martin, depending on what your nationality is).  We had booked a catamaran sail, but when we checked the tickets that were delivered to our room, we saw that there was a weight restriction.  When we booked our excursion, we specifically looked at restrictions and there was no mention of a weight restriction.  We looked at several sailing excursions and some did give restrictions, but this one didn't which was why we'd booked it.  It also included going to a cove for swimming.  We went down to the excursion desk the night before and they said they'd look into it, but when we went down that morning, they said that it was a liability thing and they couldn't override it and neither could the catamaran captain.  So, they refunded us the price of the tickets.  That left us with one excursion for the day which was a tour of both the French and Dutch sides of the island.

We got on an air conditioned tour bus, but apparently I chose the wrong side of the bus.  Since it was driving around an island, it depended on which direction the driver went--if he went counter-clockwise, it was best to be on the left of the bus and if he went clockwise, it was best on the right.  I chose the right side and chose wrong--he went counter-clockwise.  So, most of the attractions were on the left side of the bus, and we were trying to see them between people's heads and through the windows.  Taking pictures was virtually out of the question.  It was a really neat island though.  So small, yet holding two different countries.  And there's no border crossing, just a sign marking the border.  The island's economy is completely tourist based--they don't produce anything there.

The old French fort

The bus stopped near a shopping district and some open air booths and we went through the open market, buying souvenirs.  I got a beautiful blue quilted bag, with a few bursts of other bright colors that said "St. Maarten/Martin" on it.  It included an attached accessories bag, a scrunchie, and a sarong/scarf that all matched.  In these markets, bargaining is part of the process.  Other islands are different, but St. Maarten was definitely one where you could negotiate prices.  We bought magnets at all of our stops, since we started being religious about that during our summer trip, though we had been buying magnets along the way all along.  I was looking for items for the kids and the grandmas.  I found little bottles of sand and I contemplated buying that because I kicked myself after the last cruise.  I wish I had started collecting bottles of sand from each beach we visited.  Even if I bought my own vials and painted the name on it or glued seashells to it, but I have never done it and now I have missed out on Dominican Republic, St. Thomas, Tortola, Bahamas, Miami, and Atlantic City.  I saw a cute hand-painted ukulele that I wanted to get for Billy, but I found that most shops carried the exact same things and I walked on.  I ended up finding a shop that had awesome Dr. Suess-inspired t-shirts, such as "Brat 1" and "Brat 2" or "Monster 1".  I was going to get those for the kids, but decided instead to get "Sis 1", "Sis 2", and "Bro 3" with St. Maarten screen printed on the bottom.  I was getting tired and didn't haggle as well as I had been.  And we didn't make it back to the open air market to find the ukulele I had wanted.  I figured they might have them at some of the other islands, but I never saw another one.  I am kicking myself for not getting it when I saw it!

We found a place called "That Yoda guy movie museum" so Scott had to stop there.  I'm not a Star Wars fan or aficionada, but it seems that the creator of Yoda has a museum there with Star Wars stuff, including some Yoda figures.

We stopped at a little cafe to sit and drink a Coke and use their free wifi for a bit to communicate for a bit with our family.  Then we got back on the bus and went back to the port and onto the ship.  We spent a little time at the pool and I went down one of the 4 slides.  But, then nature called and I went back to our room.

We took a nap and when I got up, I put on the most brightly colored clothes that I had brought and went down for the second "Thriller" class.  We had dinner in one of the general dining rooms, called "Taste".  As near as I can tell, those two dining rooms right across from each other have the same food, just different atmosphere.  I think the third dining room might be the same, but it's larger and has a stage for live performances.

After dinner, we went upstairs to the upper deck where the 80's party was going to take place.  Probably the most fun I have had in a long time.  I love the music because it's my generation.  They had fireworks over the ship.  When it came time for the flash mob to do "Thriller," the problem was that the "stage"/dancing area was not raised up--it's just part of the floor, only made out of different material so you can see where it is.  We were told that if we got lost, the cruise directors would be in front of us and to just watch them.  However, when we rushed to the "stage", there were still other people there and we couldn't see the cruise directors at all.  And since the other people didn't take the class or apparently learn the dance somewhere along the way, they weren't quite doing the choreographed moves that we had rehearsed.  And there was a photographer that was trying to get pictures, and she focused on me but every time she would set for the shot, I would need to turn.  So, finally after several attempts, she asked me if I could just pause for a second, so I froze in the classic claws in the air stance and let her take her picture and then I had to hurry up and figure out where we were and catch up.  It could have been better managed geographically, but it was fun, nonetheless.  My husband took a video of the whole thing and I still haven't watched it.  Then the 80s party continued with songs that were near and dear to my formative years and I sang along and chair danced and everything!  It was a blast.  It was also funny watching drunk guys trying to hit on women, especially when they were married.

Cruise Log Part 4: Are We There Yet?

Monday the 8th, another sea day, Scott was sick.  Seemed like allergies, but it was enough that he rescheduled his massage and stayed in bed.  I had my facial scheduled, so I went down to the spa.  I was getting a microdermabrasion/oxygen thing, hoping to get rid of my dark spots.  However, I didn't see a noticeable change.  The commercial part of the procedure was trying to get me to buy $800 worth of facial care products.  Sheesh!

I went down the the Garden Cafe to eat a bit of breakfast.  Then I went back to the spa for my last appointment, a hot stone massage.  I was hoping I would get someone different than the girl I'd had the first night, since she really hurt me, but that's who they gave me.  However, the hot stones were much more soothing and relaxing.  I always pictured the standard photo of hot stone massage: a woman with several stones lined up on her spine.  However, I found that they keep several round smooth stones in hot water.  She oils you up really well and then rubs the stones on your body until they start to lose their heat, then she puts them back and gets more out.  This chick was kind of bugging me because both times, she was getting extremely close to crossing the line of areas that I did NOT want to be massaged.  Massages at my chiropractor are thorough, but they cover you and ensure your dignity at every turn.  Maybe it's an international thing.  I had a Slovakian friend that didn't understand personal space.  I like that all of the ship's employees wear nametags that include their country of origin.  It's nice to see where they all come from and how amazing to see all these nationalities together.  Several in the spa were from Mauritania.

After the massage, I went to the Garden Cafe and filled up a plate and went back to our room.  I had books and crocheting to keep me entertained while Scott slept.

In the evening, I had seen in our daily newsletter that there was a class to teach the Thriller dance.  They were going to have an 80s party the next night, with fireworks, so they wanted to have a flash mob dance to Thriller.  That sounded like fun, so I went down and learned the moves.  I am not the most graceful and I do not have rhythm, but I still like to dance.  There were even older ladies in this class, so I didn't feel too silly.

They had a rule that you were not allowed to bring personal hair driers or fans on the ship.  However, I didn't get this memo before and there was no way I was going to go without my hair drier, so I smuggled it on board and kept it hidden.  They had a built in hair drier, but I use one with a brush attachment, so I have to have mine.  I was using it and apparently put too much load on the breaker and blew it.  They got the electricity back, but we lost the TV until the next day.  They never came out and asked me what caused it, but they mentioned that it sometimes happens with hair driers.  So, for the rest of the trip, I kept my hair drying short so I wouldn't blow the breaker again.  We had one plug in in the entire room, so we had to alternate charging phones, my camera battery, our laptops, and using my hair dryer.

We got room service for dinner and watched a movie in our room (I think we had to watch it on the laptop, since I wrecked the TV).

Cruise Log Part 3: Sailing, Sailing Over the Ocean Blue!

Sunday the 7th was a whole day at sea.  I woke up and hadn't slept well at all.  On our last cruise, I had slept like a rock.  We opened the balcony door and listened to the sound of the water and got the breeze off the ocean and the rocking of the ship, instead of making me sick, lulled me to sleep.  However, this ship is equipped with electrical shut offs.  First, you had to have your key card in a slot to have any electricity at all.  As soon as you take it out, the lights and power all go out.  Second, if your balcony door is open, the air conditioning shut off.  It was a little too warm to go without any air conditioning so we didn't get to sleep with the balcony door open.

I went down to the spa to get my mani-pedi and then my conditioning treatment.  The manicurist talked me into an upgrade on one of the services, which apparently threw off the pricing.  Again, it was a commercial, with them trying to sell me expensive oils and such.  "It's affordable because since you only use a couple of drops, the bottle lasts a long time.  You can use it on your whole body and your hair too!"  At least the deep conditioning wasn't a commercial.  She didn't try to sell me anything.  Though, I don't see that it made a bit of difference on my hair.  I figured out that they were double charging me.  They had charged our room account when we initially made the appointments, then I found that the individual employees were charging me again at the end of every service.  So, I had the front desk at the spa trying to figure all that out and subtract charges.

We had lunch at O'Sheehan's, which is sort of like a sports pub that has burgers and stuff.  We went to Teppanyaki for dinner.  Teppanyaki was our favorite on the last cruise.  It was still good, but not as good as we remembered.  One of the chefs came out and was getting started when another chef came over and said he had the wrong table, so they switched around.  We had "THAT" guy at our table.  The eternally single guy that talks way too much that you fear will either try to sell you insurance or get you involved in a pyramid scheme or try to talk to you about his cult.  We had another couple at our table that we ran into often on the ship and were friendly with.

After dinner, we had our pictures taken by the photographers stationed around the ship.  Then we went back to our room and watched a video.

Cruise Log Part 2: Come Sail Away!

The next day was Saturday the 6th and time for the cruise!  We checked out of the hotel and set up some reservations for our return and then took the rental car back.  From the rental car area, we took the tram back into the airport and caught a taxi to the port of Miami.  I was trying to get there early because I wanted to book spa time ASAP because I was afraid the days at sea would fill up quick.  They tell you not to arrive more than an hour prior to boarding time, but by the time we got there, we were in loading group 10.  I was getting antsy, but it turned out that I didn't have to worry.

When they called our group number, we found that the rooms weren't ready yet, so we didn't really have a place to go.  So, I went to the spa and we got a tour and started booking services.  They had a deal for getting increasing percentages off with each subsequent service, so Scott talked me into a second massage and he booked one too.

Then we went to the Garden Cafe, which is a buffet-style restaurant, to eat and wait.  It was really packed because there wasn't much open and available.  We finally got into our room and were a little disappointed because it was smaller than our last cruise.  The balcony was smaller and so was the room.  They had a mandatory drill so everyone knows where to meet in case of emergency--ours was in one of the dining rooms.  As soon as the drill was over, I needed to book it back to the spa because I had booked my massage then.  I wish I hadn't made it right then because I ended up missing setting sail and the crowds leaving the drill were nearly impossible to get through and the elevators were packed.  The spa was up eight decks--16 flights of stairs and I did not want to do that.  Elevators would open and they would be full and the people on board would push the close door button and keep going.  Once when this happened, I ducked in quickly and squished myself in.

The massage was okay, but not near as good as my usual masseuse at my chiropractor and about four times the price.  And it turned out to be a big commercial.  I'd booked 75 minutes, but they were giving 15 minutes free on the first day, so it ended up being 90 minutes.  However, they spend part of that time trying to sell you products.  Seaweed apparently will relieve the knots in my back and apparently seaweed is quite expensive!  Later in the evening I was stiff and sore and Scott said my shoulders were actually bruised, so I was not thrilled with my first spa experience.

I ordered a bit of room service, but then we got ready and went to the "Illusionarium."  They have a steam punk magic show and dinner.  I was glad I had eaten some because dinner was not exactly my favorite.  We had some pictures taken there that I thought were really good.  The show was good, but I think I expected more.  Some of the tricks were difficult to figure out how they did it, but most of it was pretty tame.  At one point, there were some birds and we got splattered with what we believe must have been bird poop.  However, I wasn't sure how because we were in the back of the room, nowhere near the stage and no one between us and the stage seemed to react to a spray of poop.  We were a little put off, trying to brush off white stuff from our clothes.  When we got back to the room, Scott ordered some room service too because dinner had been pretty small.

Cruise Log Part 1: Welcome to Miami (Bienvenido a Miami)

The last time I went on a cruise, I documented our trip as we went along, trying to blog daily.  This time, I didn't do that.  I took notes to remember things and started writing this account about a week and a half after we got back before I started forgetting details, but with the holidays and I was sick pretty much the whole month of January and part of February, I didn't get back it until now.  So, my memory of the details may have faded somewhat.

I blog sometimes, not to tell someone else my story, but so that I can go back and remember later.  I suppose I could just do that in a journal, but blogging is my journal that I am willing to share with others.

It took me a while to get to writing because we arrived home 10 days before Christmas this time and things were hectic.  In my mind, I knew it was Christmas.  I saw the decorations in Miami and the Caribbean, but since I have always lived in places with cold weather and snow, it did not compute to me to see these decorations alongside palm trees and sandy beaches and in tank top and shorts weather.  So, a day or two after I arrived back home, it dawned on me that Christmas was in a week and my kids were starting their winter break in a couple of days.  I had serious shopping to complete, plus other plans and arrangements to be made.

I'll likely break this blogging up into pieces, as I did with my first cruise blog, so as not to overwhelm (you OR me).

This year was our 5th anniversary, so my generous mother-in-law decided to mark the momentous occasion with a gift cruise.  All-inclusive--hotel, flights, rental car, excursions, and spending money.  We started planning the cruise back in the spring or summer, but when it got close, time seemed to fly by.

My mother and my husband's mother were going to babysit my children while we were gone.  This made me quite nervous.  If you are personally acquainted with me or have followed this blog for long, you know that my son is not a typical child, but has quite a few special needs.  Now, granted, we went on a cruise 5 years ago and my mother-in-law babysat them alone.  However, there was quite a bit different at that time.  Yes, my son was having problems at the time, but they hadn't escalated to the magnitude that they have been at this year.  At that point, there was some behavior problems and some concern that there might be a problem that needed to be investigated, but he was four years old and manageable.  Now, he is nine and has been hospitalized twice this past year for threats of violence to himself and others.  He's been suspended numerous times.  He's been diagnosed with ADHD and bipolar disorder and there are conflicting opinions about whether he might have a form of autism.  His old school couldn't handle him, so he is in a special behavior program at a new school.  And he is strong.  It's increasingly hard for me to control him, let alone his two grandmas.  The other difference is that the last time, the kids were not as involved in outside activities as they are now.  While we were gone this time, there was an orchestra concert, a music program, two karate classes, a church Christmas party for the teen girls, two youth group meetings, drama club, pancake breakfast for charity, etc.

So, I began the arduous task of writing out detailed instructions.  The grandmas scoffed and said all would be well and I shouldn't stress about it, but what they didn't understand was that that was how I was dealing with my stress.

Things got really hairy when the week before our trip, my grandmother took a nasty fall.  It was my mom's birthday and the day before Thanksgiving and we were trying to Skype my mother so the kids could sing happy birthday to her.  At that moment, my grandma showed up at my mom's house and said she had fallen at the store and thought she might have broken her wrist and needed to go to the hospital.  She says it nonchalantly and then looks around and sees that my mother is doing laundry and in true tough lady grandma form, says, "Oh, well, if you're busy, I can go myself.  Or we can go see the doctor next week."  My mom dropped everything and took her to the minor emergency.  Turned out her wrist was both fractured and dislocated.  And she would need surgery.  They scheduled surgery the same day that the moms were supposed to leave to come here to babysit.  My grandma is so tough that as soon as she got home from having a mastectomy a couple of years ago, she started doing laundry.  We thought this time would be the same.  But once the adrenaline wore off, she was in excruciating pain.  She walked the floor, moaning and crying most of the night and the pain was so bad, she was vomiting.  Thanksgiving day, mom took her to the E.R. while my uncle prepared the holiday meal (for which 8 of our large family showed up for).  They did a form of traction on her and put a cooling pack around her wrist and sent her home.  The surgery was outpatient and supposedly scheduled for early in the morning.  We were worried that my mom would not be able to come because as bad as this was going for grandma, my mom might be needed to care for her.  She moved a block away from her to be close to her and we couldn't see her leaving grandma immediately after surgery.  We would have liked for grandma to have come with mom so she could have had someone to watch over her and nurse her (my mother-in-law is a retired nurse), but she wouldn't consider leaving her house for almost two weeks, not to mention her post-op appointments.  My uncle took two days off of work and my aunt took a couple of days off after that, so they had grandma under supervision for six days with the weekend.  So, my mom decided that barring any complications, she would still come.  The surgery didn't start until the afternoon, but everything went well.  They put in a plate and several large screws.  After she recovered, my mom left and I felt guilty.

By the time they arrived, it was dinner time, so we ate together and had a couple of hours to talk and go over things before I had to go back to packing and we all went to bed.  We had to be up early to catch our flight.  Long drive to the airport, park at long term parking, shuttle to airport, check baggage, go through security, then sit and wait for the flight to leave at 8:10am.

This was my first time in first class on a plane.  I have always hated flying because I am claustrophobic and I hate being squished in with other people.  It's not AS bad if you are seated with friends or family, but when it's strangers, they are inevitably in my bubble.  My first time ever flying when I was 18 and going to Germany to live with my new husband, I ended up on a huge plane (I think it was a 777) with two seats, an aisle, five seats, another aisle, and two more seats across one row.  And, you guessed it, I was in the middle of the five seats.  Fortunately, I was surrounded by some elderly church ladies who were very nice, but even that doesn't stave off claustrophobia for an 8 hour flight.  First class was great because we had priority boarding and the seats were larger with more leg room and we were given drink service twice along with snacks for the less than two hour flight.  We also didn't have to pay extra for baggage--we were each able to check three bags.

Now, this is where we hit some turbulence.  No, not in the air, but between me and my husband.  I had planned on us each having two suitcases and was desperately wondering how I was going to fit it all in for 12 days when he told me that we were allowed three.  I was relieved.  However, he didn't want me to bring three.  So, we had a brief disagreement about the bags.  The other hitch was that apparently our luggage has seen better days.  Our two biggest bags were tearing.  One was still usable, though the outside pocket was not--the other one was beyond hope.  So, we had to settle for smaller suitcases, vowing that one of our next purchases would be a new set or luggage.  And while we were at it, some of those new-fangled rolling ones that you don't have to tip--they just follow you like a dog on a leash.  We settled on my taking three bags and his taking two.  He carried on his laptop bag and I carried on my laptop/camera bag and my crocheting bag with my purse tucked inside.

Now, you may ask why in the world I needed three suitcases (and still some of my stuff rolled over to my husband's suitcase).  The last cruise, I had read somewhere that you shouldn't overpack.  Don't take too much, you don't need it.  So, I didn't.  And then I started running out of clothes.  And lamenting my lack of variety in my wardrobe.  Due to that, and the fact that we were spending three days in Miami prior to the cruise, and two days after, I wanted to have enough clothing and have a variety for whatever we decided to do.  I am glad I did.  We did do a little bit of laundry in Miami on the third day.  I came home with clean clothes, it's true.  But, I would rather come home with a couple of extra outfits than to run out or wish you had thought to bring this thing or that.

Back to the flight.  My husband put me by the window because I love clouds and I am a photographer.  My claustrophobia didn't bother me at this since we had plenty of room in first class.  We had a layover in Atlanta and then we pressed on to Miami.  The clouds were amazing and I bored Facebook friends with pictures of them.  I have long pondered whether God would allow me to play on the clouds once I went to heaven since I love them so much, so looking at them from above instead of below, or being between layers was thrilling to me.  I'm easily amused.  I wish I had gotten the camera out quicker.  Just before we landed in Miami, I noticed the shadow of our plane on the clouds and surrounding it was a rainbow circle.  It was beautiful.

We arrived in Miami after 2pm, local time.  The last time we were there, it was in the 50s and raining, which didn't bother us since we had left Kansas City with a ton of snow on the ground, but the locals acted like it was arctic there.  This time, it was warm and sunny.  I called our hotel about a shuttle and to see if we could check in earlier than the 4pm standard time and they said that they were booked up and wouldn't be ready early.  We took the shuttle there, without having anywhere else to go.  We stayed at the Embassy Suites because we really liked it when we stayed there in Ohio when we were on vacation with the kids over the summer.  They have a wonderful tropical common area and a restaurant, so there are plenty of places to hang out, if need be.  But, as it turned out, it needn't be.  We checked right in.  We were going to get a rental car, but we mused that if we didn't plan on leaving the hotel that night, it would be silly to pay for an extra day.  We ended up ordering in from a local pizza place.  Scott got a stromboli and something else and I got a hamburger sub.  We have been wary of local places after our experience on our summer vacation, but this place was good.  Though they did get Scott's stromboli wrong.  Scott went down to the gift shop to get some drinks, but they must have been there for a while because they were flat.

The next day was Thursday and we slept in.  I only get to sleep in on Saturdays and even that is subject to the whim of the kids.  It felt nice to not have to be anywhere.  When we got up, we took the hotel shuttle back to the airport and got the rental car.  I'm going to include a graphic map to show you what I am going to describe.  Our hotel was right next to the airport.  We took the shuttle to the airport and then rode a tram to the rental car station which is just east of the airport and just south of our hotel.  You'd think it would have taken us less than five minutes to get back to the hotel once we picked up the car, but we took a few wrong turns and got lost in Miami traffic and it took us at least half an hour to find our way back.  Even with our phone's GPS.  We rented a Buick something-or-other and it had a wicked rear cam that showed the track you were going to go if you kept at your current angle.  I love my rear cam on my van, but that had me geeking out.  Our hotel charged $16 a night to park there or $18 for valet parking.  We figured $2 was worth it to be able to just drive up to the front door or have someone bring the car around for us, so that's what we did.

Miami drivers are nuts!  I apologize for saying that if you are from Miami, but if you are, then you know it's true.  We were talking to a couple in the shuttle from the hotel to the airport that are from there that warned us about it.  They were not kidding.  We watched a guy in the left turn lane, suddenly decide he wanted to turn right at a red light and get over in front of the other two lanes of traffic to do so.  We saw entire traffic snarls because people would not merge when the signs indicated to do so, they would zip all the way up the line and try to squeeze over in front of all of us who had followed directions.  I was flipped the bird by some guy that I refused to let over in front of me.  He was trying to squeeze in the few inches between me and the car in front of me and I almost believed he was going to take my bumper off before giving up, but I'm stubborn and refused to give, so he got mad and flipped me off, I shrugged because it totally broke my heart [read with sarcasm], and he raced on, looking for another sucker.  He found a hole and later down the road, I passed him with smug satisfaction.  They are worse there than New York City or even Washington D.C.  We thought traffic was bad there when we visited this summer and now my oldest daughter is paranoid about people honking horns.  She hears one and yells, "who (or what) are you honking at???"  She would have LOATHED driving in Miami with all the horns honking.  Once, I took a split second at a light that had just changed before the message traveled from my eye to my brain to my foot to change pedals and the person behind me was already honking.

We went back to the hotel.  Scott had said I would be in charge of finding things to do while we were in Miami, so I set about looking at the room guide and the vacation guide that was left in our room and found a couple of things that sounded interesting.  The first was the Venetian Pool in Coral Gables.  It sounded like a tropical paradise lagoon, but was really a pool carved out of coral.  But, I found out it was closed for renovations.  Then, I saw the Coral Castle.  That sounded intriguing, but the more I looked up pictures and information about it, the more I thought that while it sounded interesting, it was not going to be worth the drive or the admission.  I decided that seeing pictures of it online would satisfy me just fine.  So, that left Miami Beach.  I wanted to go swim in the ocean and take pictures of the beach and the palm trees and lighthouses.  Scott said we were going to get plenty of beach in the Caribbean, but I wanted to go in Miami too.  And we started researching jet ski rentals.

Scott had said that the one thing he wanted to do was to ride a jet ski.  I was not interested at all.  I saw them as high speed death machines.  I do not like to go super fast and I certainly didn't want to fall off because I am not a confident swimmer.  I suggested that I would ride on the back of his, but he insisted that I should get my own.  We spent part of the day researching Groupons and reading reviews online before we finally decided on one we liked.  I had wanted to go to the Florida Keys, but it's a three and a half hour drive from Miami to Key West.  So, it would be seven hours round trip.  Neither of us really wanted to drive that long, even if I did think it would be neat to see and drive on the Overseas Highway.  So, we settled on a jet ski rental place in Key Largo.  Miami Beach was a must see for me, but I really wish I had just gone south to Key Biscayne.  But, that's a story for later.

I had wanted to spend a large portion of my spending money on the spa on the ship.  I wanted relaxation and pampering after all the stress of this year.  But, I wanted to have my hair dyed and highlighted and I figured that they would charge more than it was worth on the ship and might not have the color I wanted, so since we had really decided not to go anywhere, I decided to go get my hair dyed while I was in Miami.  I found a Groupon for a color and highlights for $63 and I called ahead and they said that if I came right away, they could get me in before closing.  So, I hurried out.  I promptly got stuck in rush hour traffic.  The highway systems there are toll roads, most of them, and they flash you as you drive under the cameras.  If you have a "Sun Pass", they charge you less, but if they have to bill you by your license plate, you pay more.  I was really ticked at having to pay to use this highway that was at a standstill.  I was paying to PARK!  I finally got there.  One thing that I noticed about Miami is that they are all super excited about Obamacare.  I saw signs everywhere and right next to the salon, there was a giant blow-up doll of Obama.  Frightening.

I went in to the salon and they told me that even though the Groupon said "color and highlights", it only meant PARTIAL color.  Which should have been my first clue that this was not going to be a good experience.  From perusing Groupons, they are usually quite specific about "partial color" or "single process color", etc.  I asked how much for a full color, since I'd already bought the Groupon and the owner told me $20 more.  I said do it.  I showed them a picture of the color that I wanted as the base and then said I wanted some golden streaks highlighting.  We had a discussion about not going too light.  I had really wanted to do a tri-color, but I decided against it on the spot.  I was afraid this would cost even more and be even more difficult.  They went back and started mixing and were gone quite a while.  Instead of putting sort of a reverse cape on me, like I usually have, they put a smock sort of thing on me.  When she started putting the dye in my hair, my scalp started burning.  I have been dying my hair since I was a teenager and at this point, I dye it 2-3 times a year.  Sometimes I have it done professionally, sometimes I do it myself.  I don't ever recall my scalp burning from the solution.  It has when it's been permed, but never when I colored it.  I probably should have spoken up, but I figured it was just the initial foreign object and it did lessen, though it itched quite a bit.  She was really rubbing it into my scalp which was odd.  Then she did the highlights.  One thing that alarmed me was that occasionally, I would see dye go flying.  Once, a drop splattered my arm.  Once, my nose.  I saw that she had gotten some on her arm and her shirt and when I picked up my cell phone, I saw some on my case.  I was a little concerned about her carelessness with keeping the dye where it was supposed to be.  When she finally rinsed the dye out, I was surprised that she shampooed my hair at least three times during the process.  It's been a while since I have done a professional dye job, but as I recall, I don't remember them shampooing following a dye, just conditioning.  Anyway, they had taken a before picture of my hair and as she was combing it out, she asked me if I wanted her to blow dry it.  Maybe I lead a sheltered life, but generally, when I go to the salon for a chemical process, they dry my hair as part of the service.  Granted, it's not styled, but you can't really tell the true color when it's wet and you need to see that they gave you what you wanted.  Is that just a Midwest thing?  Do they not do that as a courtesy elsewhere?  I guess I should have questioned this, especially after the woman next to me when I came in had had a long, extensive blow dry.  I was beginning to think I would never hear the end of that hair drier.  So, I said sure and I figured they needed it dry for their "after" picture too.  She began blow drying and brushing and putting argan oil in my hair.  And, just like the other woman, she took a very long time.  I was starting to feel sorry for her and the owner because they were past closing time and were just staying open to finish my hair.  When she finished, my hair looked sleek and not a speck of frizz!  The main color was still just not exactly what I wanted, but I was beginning to wonder (considering this was a second attempt at this color) if my hair was just not conducive to this particular shade.  The highlights looked great and overall, I thought it looked amazing, even if the color wasn't as deep as I'd hoped.

I went to the counter to pay and not only did they charge me the $20 extra for the full color but they also charged me $35 for the blow dry!  I was shocked!  $35 to blow dry my hair???  And the kicker was that it was pouring rain outside and I didn't have an umbrella.  So, $35 to walk out and through the parking lot and have the blow dry ruined.  $35 to blow dry and oil hair that wasn't going to be seen except by my husband and the food delivery boy in our hotel room.  I had been prepared to give a larger tip, but now that I had paid $63 for a Groupon and another $55 that I felt was a total scam, I was not in a generous tipping mood, so I only gave her $10.  Even that made me cringe because my Groupon "deal" had now cost me a total of $128.  The owner and I chatted about the Miami drivers and he chalked the bad driving up to all the people from Latin America who bring their country's bad driving habits here.  He said he is from Columbia and they drive much worse there.

I ran out in the rain and sprinted across the parking lot, trying to shield my expensive hair with a piece of paper I dug out of my purse.  And I drove back to the hotel.  I mentioned that the only person to see my coif other than my husband was the food delivery guy.  I had wanted to go try Benihana since I found out they had one near Miami Beach because I use one of their copycat sauce recipes and I love it.  But, we decided not to get out again in the rain and ordered in some Chinese food that was pretty good.  In our free time, Scott played games on his laptop or napped and I crocheted or listened to my audio book.  It was nice to just sit back and relax and do whatever we wanted.  As we were sitting, eating, I noticed a blotch of hair dye on my skirt.  Her wild painting and hair dye flying had landed on my skirt because the smock wasn't long enough to cover everything.  This was a new skirt that my mom had just made me and this was the first time I had worn it.  I was furious and later gave negative reviews on every site I could find.  They were nice people, but between overcharging and ruining my clothing, I wasn't happy.  My scalp was red and flaking for days afterward, as well.

The next day, we were going to go jet skiing.  We headed down to Key Largo.  The place was a bit hard to find.  We found the address with the GPS on our phones and saw a sign over a parking lot indicating it was there.  But, all we saw was a gift shop and a restaurant and behind that, guys working on who knows what and boats in a channel.  When Scott went to ask someone, one of the men behind the gift shop asked if he could help me and I told him we were looking for the jet ski place.  He asked his buddies where "that girl" was and one asked me to follow him around the boardwalk that bordered the waterway.  He commented that the jet skis were brand new and nice, so we were sure to enjoy it.  Across the waterway from the gift shop, there was a jet ski dock and life preservers and a girl and a guy.  The girl introduced herself as P.J. and said she would be our guide.  Scott found me and after we talked to P.J. for a bit about what the plan was, he went to change.  I had worn my swimsuit there with a sarong covering my bottom half and a t-shirt covering the top.  I kicked off my flip flops and my cover-ups and put on a life vest and P.J. brought us some bottled water.  We had to keep our driver's licenses and water in a small "glove compartment".  I had my waterproof camera strap wrapped around my wrist.

We headed out through different channels towards the bay.  There are lots of nice vacation homes along the canals, with boats and jet skis moored in front of them.  You cannot go fast through these channels for safety reasons and also I believe it's a courtesy so the residents don't have to hear loud motors and they don't have to deal with the wakes that are caused by fast moving aquatic vehicles.

It didn't seem so hard.  Once it's started, the jet ski propels forward slowly on its own.  It's pretty stable staying upright, though turns freaked me out a bit, so I found I was only comfortable turning when I slowed way down.  My husband was flying around the bay at 50-60mph, but I didn't care about speed.  I was really enjoying it more than I thought I would and I took some video.  I got up to 30-35 mph, but that was as fast as I was prepared to go.  The kids saw the video and called me chicken.  It was really fun.  There had been another jet skier in the area where we were and when I saw someone had fallen off their jet ski, I thought it was him.  But, when our guide came zipping over, I realized it was my husband!  He said he hadn't even been going fast, just a wave caught him and instead of trying to fight to stay on, he just went in the water, like she'd instructed.  However, those things only had one bar at the back to remount if you fall off.  And it's up high, and it's spring loaded so that it pops back up if you aren't actively pushing it down.  It sits just below the surface of the water and if you are in the water up to your chest because of floating with the lifejacket, you can imagine how high you have to get your leg up to even get on that bar and then you have to pull yourself out of the water and up onto the seat from there.  And there are no good handholds.  Not good design features.  Our guide said she had trouble getting up on it from the water and she was a tiny little thing.  Scott tried and would almost get it, but then run out of strength.  Then P.J. abandoned her jet ski to jump on his to try to give him some leverage to get up.  But, the longer this went on, the worse it was because he was getting more and more fatigued.  P.J. hopped on the back of my jet ski and had me take her to hers, which had drifted away.  It was a little scary getting next to his so she could get on mine and next to hers so she could retrieve it because they had documented scratches before we went out and we would have to pay for any damage we might cause, so I was scared of scraping.  But, I managed to get close enough without scratching and she complimented my driving skills.  She'd had an idea and took off across the bay.  She went to a fishing boat and spoke with the captain.  He brought his boat over and put down his ladder and Scott was able to climb that and then step over onto the jet ski.

By that, time, he was exhausted and had had enough.  Our time was about up anyway, so we started heading back.  I totally want to do that again!  I was so crusted with salt though, afterwards!

When we got back, we went into the gift shop and bought some souvenirs.  I apparently spaced out and got myself a Key West shirt, forgetting we were in Key Largo.  Whoops!  Guess I was Key-fused!

We were tired, so we ordered in.  I got food from Burritoville (which was pretty darn good) and Scott tried the pizza place again and they got his order right this time.  We made a trip to WalMart to get some videos, an HDMI cable, some bottled pop, laundry detergent and other sundries.  When we got back, I did the little bit of laundry we had, so we wouldn't start off the cruise with a bag of dirty laundry and so we wouldn't run out of socks and underwear!

Happy Birthday in Heaven

My husband wonders why I am focusing on what would have been my dad's 70th birthday today.  It's not that I don't think of him every year on his birthday or on the day he died and other times, but I mentioned it because it would have been a big birthday.  Maybe it's the numbers.  So many to mark the passage of time that seemed like it flew by so quickly.

This year is my 20th high school reunion.  And, if I had stayed married to my first husband, we would have been married 20 years this year.  I remember thinking that 20th anniversaries were a big deal and was such a long time.  But, now, it doesn't feel so long.  I feel like high school was yesterday.  Twenty years ago, my dad was 50 and my grandpa was getting ready to turn 70.  I remember my grandma writing to me and asking if I could believe that "that young man" was turning 70.  But, today, if my dad were still alive, HE would be 70.  And if my grandpa were still alive, HE would be 90 next year.  I'll be 40 next year.  My mom will be 70 in a couple of years and my grandma will be 90 in three.  40 used to seem so old, until I started staring down the barrel of it.  70 was the age of my grandparents, now it's my parents.  90 years was an amazing length of time for someone to have made it to, but my grandma is so strong and vibrant that 90 seems incongruous.

It's all perspective, I suppose.  My kids think I'm ancient and I don't feel that way (well, in some ways I do, but otherwise, I feel like it hasn't been that long since I was their age).  I thought 70 was near death when I was young, but I don't think of my mom that way now.  94 was how old my great-grandmother was when she died and she always seemed so frail, but now that my grandmother is nearing that decade, it seems completely different for her.  Maybe it's that my former perceptions are not matching with my current reality that is making me focus on it a bit more.

In any case, it's not depression that's causing me to fixate, it's the numbers: 20, 40, 70, and 90.

My son can melt my heart even when he's causing heartache

Today my son was supposed to meet a new psychiatrist.  That turned out not to be a problem getting him out of school due to his being suspended yesterday for punching his teacher in his junk.  Yeah.

So, we had a psychiatrist we liked who had him pretty stable and had seen him through two hospitalizations.  But, my ex, who barely shows up and has no clue what's going on, despite being provided all the testing and documents, decided to throw a wrench in everything.  We've been dealing with custody issues in court for a year and a half.  The only straw he could grasp at was to claim I'm overmedicating the children.  He never got a second opinion, as he told the court he needed time for or went to any doctors' appointments or even spoke to any doctors... until he called Billy's psychiatrist and told her he disagreed with Billy's ADHD meds (that he's been on for 4 years) and that he had 50/50 decision making power and he wasn't going to give him the meds anymore.  The doctor understood the situation and sided with me, but felt she couldn't legally prescribe the meds anymore and furthermore didn't want to be in the middle of this argument and quit being his doctor.

I'd hoped the court stuff would be done in December, so our primary care physician gave us three months' worth of meds and I'd hoped we'd get it settled and could go right back to her.  But, court proceedings were continued and i tried to go back to our PCP but was seen by another doctor in the practice who lectured me about it being my responsibility to find a psychiatrist and only giving us a month's worth of meds.  I'd found some leftover meds of a lower dosage from when we upped the milligrams a few months back to get him by in the meanwhile.  Even 10 milligrams difference, we can tell there's a huge change.  Children's Mercy only takes patients who also have a physical ailment.  So, i set up this appointment with a doctor that had been recommended to us by our insurance liaison.

There was something about the guy i didn't like, but it boiled down to him saying he couldn't take Billy as a patient unless we had sole custody or Billy's dad not only signed authorization saying he was ok with the treatment but actually came to the appointments and participated in the treatment.

Our lawyer had his dad in for a deposition a couple of weeks ago and he denied ever telling the psychiatrist those things and said he believed the only thing wrong with Billy is ADHD, though ironically, that's the meds he didn't like.  He admitted he's never gotten a second opinion, gone to any of their appointments, or contacted any of their doctors.  Yet, he's ruined all of Billy's chances to get treatment.  He claims to be concerned about the meds, but this has left Billy with no one to monitor his meds since August.

Billy has 9 more of the low dose ADHD meds.  Even if the case were wrapped up tomorrow, we couldn't get in to a doctor that fast. His other meds, antidepressants and antipsychotics that keep him from self-harm and violence against others will run out, respectively, in March, April, and May.  If nothing happens to intervene, his behavior at school will deteriorate as will his grades, he'll likely start threatening or attempting suicide again, or start more violence towards others and we'll end up with another hospitalization.

Needless to say, I've been angry and upset ever since.  Fury at first, then sorrow.

Billy brought me a coloring page of the Incredible Hulk and had written on it, "you're as strong as Hulk.  Don't be sad."  On the back, he'd drawn a diagram where no pills equaled unhappy face and unhappy face equaled both of us.  Then he wrote off to the side "we don't want that, we want this."  Below, his diagram showed unhappy face does not equal us and smiley face equals strong.  He also brought me a drawing of "supermom."  He told me that even without meds, he'd try to be good, even though it's hard (though no amount of mind over matter can power through bipolar disorder).  He hugged me and it made me cry that he was trying to cheer me up when I'm fighting for him.

Adventures in Family Road-Tripping

When my husband suggested that I keep a journal of our vacation, I was skeptical.  Who wanted to tote around a notebook and constantly be jotting down notes about times and locations and miles per gallon?  And the first day or two, that's all it was.  But, after that, I began to record the memories that I wanted to hold onto and I was glad that he had suggested it.

Our vacation was craziness wrapped up in chaos with a side of what are we thinking?  In recent months, we had talked about various road trips that we would like to take with the kids.  My husband wanted them to see things like the Grand Canyon and Washington D.C. and Mount Rushmore and I wanted them to see where I lived and went to school and visit friends.  We had as many possible itineraries as there are directions.  As we had just sold off the pasture part of my husband's family farm, we thought we might buy a travel trailer and have a camping vacation.  I wasn't sold on the travel trailer by any means.  I don't call that camping, I call that parking.  But, I am no outdoors girl.  I have tried to be a sport about camping for my family's sake, but even they aren't all that keen on it.  I don't like dirt and heat and bugs.  I do like sleeping outside and hearing the locusts and frogs and seeing the stars and feeling the cool breezes off the lake.  But, our camping trips have become ridiculous.  I knew I was in trouble when my ex-husband bought a small air conditioner for our tent and we rented a U-haul to go to my family reunion.  It's not much better these days, though we certainly don't have an air conditioner.  We bought our own trailer and by the time we are done setting up our campsite, it resembles a small village--two tents, a screen house, and one or two canopies.  My husband LOVES to find camping "gadgets."  While I would be fine roasting weenies on a stick over a campfire or burgers on the provided grills, he buys camping stoves and a camp oven and comes up with camping recipes such as bagged omelets.  He has a whole kitchen setup, with a stand for the camp stove (complete with paper towel roll holder and hooks for your cooking utensils) and a shoe tree for holding various kitchen sundries--combined with tables and Rubbermaid tubs sorted, these things under a canopy become our "kitchen."  The funny thing is that my husband originally laughed at me when I wanted electric hookups so I could have a fan--both for keeping cool and because I always sleep with one on for white noise.  He said that I should experience primitive camping.  Yet, if you saw the tub of electrical cords, the trailer packed full of stuff, and him sitting in our tent at night, playing games on his laptop, you would know why I find his amusement at my fans ironic.

None of us particularly enjoy the heat or bugs.  I love camping when the weather is cool, but often we have gone out for a Labor Day camping trip and were melting with the extreme heat of the midwest.  Someone always ends up sick and puking, one year I had poison ivy, and last year I was recovering from stomach surgery, so the heat has not been our friend.  Or, we get stuck with constant rain and leaking tents.  So, the kids have been on-board with some sort of RV for a long time.  And though I poked fun at the idea of "parking", I was like my husband laughing at my fans while he plugged in his laptop.  I wanted to be able to take a shower and not step out and immediately get my feet dirty again.  I wanted somewhere to cool off if the weather was not cooperating or take shelter when the rains came.  I think we would go on more spur of the moment camping trips if we had everything ready to go in a camper, rather than having to load everything onto the trailer, unload and set up camp, take down camp, load the trailer back up, then unload when we get home.  It just isn't worth the trouble.  And like the meme I saw recently, it doesn't make sense: paying a fortune to live like homeless people....  NOT my idea of a vacation.

But, I went with my husband to shop for a travel trailer or two he had found on the internet.  After looking at a few, we found one that we really liked.  It was obviously used (we are not flush with cash), but seemed to have everything that we could want.  Master bedroom; pop-out with a breakfast nook that converts to a bed; a sofa that folds out to a bed; a small recliner; a nice kitchen complete with stove, oven, fridge, microwave; a "bunkhouse" with two bunkbeds; and a bathroom.  We always camp near the bathrooms with my intestinal problems and the idea of our own bathroom thrills me because I despise public restrooms.  We were ready to buy.  We had plans.  We decided that all of my husband's wolf decor would go to the trailer, so I set it all out.  I created some family photo collages that I could put on the walls.  We bought some new blankets for the kids' beds.  We bought some storage solutions.  We began shopping for towels that could be "camping towels" and TVs and pots and pans, etc.  We had whole lists.  And we started planning our itinerary.  We didn't want to do an Easterly road trip because the urban places we were going didn't seem to go along with camping.  I wanted the Southerly road trip to culminate in a short cruise from Miami, leaving our trailer unattended...no.  Northern would be ok, but really all we could envision with that direction was Mount Rushmore and maybe Chicago.  That left West.  We would pick the kids up at their dad's and go to Wichita to see the grandma's and do the kids' laundry.  Then we would head towards the Grand Canyon, stopping one night along the way.  Then it would be on to Lake Havasu, Sequoia National Park, a beach in California so the kids could see the ocean, Yosemite and visiting Scott's aunt and uncle, Phoenix to visit my friend Tiffany, Tucson to see my best friend of 27 years, then through Colorado to see mountains and drive by a college that Kimberly (at age 12) is interested in.  We found KOA Kampgrounds, which offer many amenities, all along the way.  We even went to AAA and got TripTix and maps and guidebooks.  We contacted my friends and his family and lined up our visits.  And then the trailer didn't happen.

Lawyers and banks being what they are...the money didn't come in in time.  My mother-in-law offered to buy the trailer with her credit card and we could pay her back when the check finally arrived, but the dealership said that they couldn't do that much on a credit card with a titled vehicle.  So, she thought she would take a out a signature loan at her bank, but they wouldn't loan that much.  So, she was willing to drive three hours all the way up here just to sign some papers to finance the trailer that we would turn around and pay off in a couple of weeks' time.  However, when we called the dealership to get the financing together, both the salesman and the business manager we had been talking to were gone...and wouldn't be back for two or three days.  I read online that the financing can take two to fours days and we only had four days until we were set to leave.  I finally accepted that God was blocking us at every turn and this trailer must not have been in His Will.  Who knows?  He might have been saving us from a bad sale, a piece of junk, something unsafe.  So, we decided to "let it go" and since the camping was out, we decided we would just scrap the whole westerly vacation.  We decided instead to go East and we threw ourselves into planning.  Day one to Indianapolis, Indiana for the night.  Day two to Columbus, Ohio for the Columbus Zoo and Zoombezi Bay Water Park.  Day three to Washington D.C.  Day four in Washington D.C.  Day five in Washington D.C.  Day six to Atlantic City, New Jersey.  Day seven to New York City by way of Hershey, Pennsylvania and possibly Philadelphia.  Day eight in New York City.  Day nine to Niagara Falls, NY.  Day ten to Chicago, Illinois.  Day eleven back home.  We looked into tours and museums and attractions.  We researched and booked hotels.  In the few days we had, we got things going.  We were ready!

We headed out early on Sunday, July 27.  We drove three hours to where the kids' dad lives in a tiny town in Kansas.  After we picked them up, we ate lunch in Junction City, Kansas, and then decided that since we were going through Kansas City again anyway, we would stop at home because we might need a potty break and I had forgotten something.  The kids hadn't been home in two weeks, which is the longest they have been away from home, so they got to SEE home for a few minutes.  We stopped at QuikTrip for drinks and got back on the road.  We stopped for dinner in Greenup, Illinois, and then kept going.  At the Indiana border, we hit the Eastern time zone, so we arrived at 10:30pm our time, 11:30 local time in Indianapolis, 15 1/2 hours after we'd begun our trip.  We stayed at a Country Inn and Suites and it was a nice hotel, but it was just a place to crash for the night.  Almost all the hotels had two queen beds and a sofa bed.  I preferred to keep Billy in the room with us when it was a suite, so that night, he got the bed and the girls shared the sofa bed.

In the morning, we got up and headed out.  My husband was really in charge of breakfasts with the kids.  I never once went down to the hotel's breakfasts.  I know, I know, breakfast in the most important meal of the day.  However, I have a very difficult time eating early.  I don't get hungry at all until around lunchtime and often not until dinner time.  Not only that, but as aforementioned, I have intestinal issues.  I brought some enzyme pills to take before meals, but sometimes they don't help at all or don't help enough.  So, between my not wanting to have to worry about needing a bathroom during our roadtrip and knowing that I would be doing lots of walking and didn't want to be too full and bloated and hot to be able to move, I was skipping all breakfasts.  With all that walking and eating light, I hope I lost some weight over the course of the trip!

Even though we stopped for gas and drinks and lunch at a Burger King, it didn't take too long before we arrived at the Drury Inn in Columbus, Ohio.  We checked in and unloaded.  The problem with all of this traveling and changing hotels was the amount of STUFF we had.  The kids had taken a lot to their dad's since they would be there for two weeks.  I had only packed Billy limited clothing, figuring his step-mom could wash their clothes, but Arrena had decided to be a snot and pack the kitchen sink as a silent protest against being forced to give up her summer plans to go to her dad's.  I think she packed almost all the clothes she owned.  When I dropped them with their dad, he was struggling to get all their huge suitcases and duffle bags into his car's trunk when they had a table in there that they had forgotten to take out.  I packed a few outfits for them to be sure they had clean clothes for the first few days.  Then I packed a suitcase for each of us, travel bags for each of the kids (electronics and books for the girls and toys and coloring books for Billy), a fidget kit for Billy, a hotel toy bag for Billy, a bag of electronics cables and chargers, two toiletries containers, my clipboard with my notebook and paperwork, my crocheting bag, both our laptop bags, and my camera bag, etc.  Imagine carting all of that in and out of each hotel.  It usually took two trips or two carts. In Columbus, I took everything in and rearranged suitcases and organized everything.  Somewhere along the way, Scott and Arrena did some laundry.  There was a bit of silliness going on that day with our most favorite lines during the drive being, "Kimberly, what's your name?" and a little back-and-forth between Billy and Kimberly:
Kimberly: "It's called metabolism."
Billy: (pause)  "Does it hurt?"

After we settled in to the room, we jumped back in the van, and went to the Columbus Zoo.  We drove through Dublin, Ohio to get there and I thought it was just about the prettiest little town I have ever seen.  We had wanted to go to the water park that is part of the zoo, but the weather was cool in the 70s and we just couldn't see doing that.  We found that a membership was about the same as a one-day entrance and parking, so we went ahead and got one, so we can always go back sometime in the next year.  The Columbus Zoo is said to be one of the best zoos in the country and Jack Hanna is the president Emeritus.  We spent a few hours there, only getting to see about half to two-thirds of the zoo.  We wanted to see the aquarium and Billy wanted to see Dino Island, so we headed toward the Australia/Congo/Aquarium section.  Most of the animals I have seen before at other zoos, but I had never seen a manatee (I want to sing "Barbara Manatee", aka "Endangered Love" from Veggie Tales every time I mention that) or a koala before.  Though, I still really haven't seen a koala since both of them were asleep and curled up in trees so you could only see their backs.  Apparently they spend most of their time that way.

We left the zoo and ate dinner at Macaroni Grill and then we went swimming in the the hotel pool.

In the morning (Tuesday, July 29), we left and headed towards Washington D.C.  We stopped for snacks and to use the bathroom in Wheeling, WV and again in Keyser's Ridge, MD.  We passed through Ohio, West Virginia, D.C., and Virginia before arriving at our hotel, the Washington Suites in Alexandria, VA.  The dumb comment of the day belonged to me, unfortunately, when I was singing along with Alabama's Song of the South and somehow came up with "...sweet potato gravy and hush my mouth."  Immediately I knew something didn't sound right.  Hmmmm....  Sweet potato gravy???  I didn't want to get out again to eat out, so Arrena and I went to pick up dinner at a place called Shooter McGhee's which was recommended to us by hotel staff.  We were going to get drinks at the 7/11 in front of our hotel, but it had a tiny parking lot (seems to be a theme with 7/11's) and it was packed, with more people waiting on the street to turn in.  We ended up going down the block and finding a CVS, so we stocked up on pop since we had a kitchenette in our room.  We were really disappointed in the food, which was really expensive to be so blah to bad.

On Wednesday, July 30, we took the hotel shuttle to the DC Metro station and rode the train into the city, getting off at Federal Triangle.  The kids had never ridden on a train before, though this is more like a subway most of the time.  We walked across the street to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History.  I think it's great that all of the Smithsonian museums have free admission.  Though, I was kind of disappointed in this museum.  I was a bit bored, as were the kids, and even Scott said it wasn't like he remembered.  Probably the best feature of that museum is the Star Spangled Banner.  After we left there, we went out front and bought some lunch from the food trucks on the street and ate on park benches.  Kimberly was enjoying feeding the bold sparrows and pigeons that would come right up to us, begging like my cat for table scraps.

We bought tickets to ride the "Big Bus" tour.  I think this is the best idea ever.  It's an open-top double-decker bus.  We rode on top most of the time and I was able to get pictures that I wouldn't have been able to get just riding in any other mode of transportation..  And it was nice to hear the tour guides tell facts and point out interesting places and share stories.  Even when they didn't have a live tour guide, they had recorded narration.  You were given headphones and the audio jacks gave the tour in several different languages.

I really enjoyed the architecture in D.C. and New York.  We don't see that kind of thing in the Midwest.  I loved the buildings when I lived in Germany because there were churches and structures that were older than our country!  It was amazing!  Though I had never really had much desire to visit New York City or D.C., I was really struck by the beauty.  It was also really interesting to see places that I have only seen on TV.  Seeing pictures of it just isn't a substitution for seeing it yourself.  I would see reporters standing on "the mall" with the Capitol building in the background and had this idea that the mall wasn't terribly big.  Whoa, was I wrong!  I think maybe if I had been by myself, I might have been more inclined to leisurely stroll around the mall, seeing the monuments and sites, or even rent one of the bikes (D.C. and New York have bikes you can rent, a lot the like the strollers in a shopping mall or the luggage carts in the airport) and just tool around.  One thing I learned is that if you want to tour the White House, you have to write to your Congressman and get approval and screenings months in advance.  The president was in Kansas City while we were in D.C., so we thought that was funny--was it something we said???

The other benefit to the bus tour is that they have numerous stops (and a couple of different circuitous routes), so you can hop off and visit something and then catch the next bus and continue your tour.  We hopped off at the Air and Space Museum.  Kimberly tried out a flight simulator while we were there and then Billy had a meltdown because he wanted to see an IMAX movie.  I had forgotten to bring his meds with me, so he and I sat on the floor by a wall and I tried to get him calm while Scott and Arrena and Kimberly explored a bit more.  When we left, we got an ice cream at one of the street trucks to cool everyone off and get a little snack to re-energize everyone a bit.  Then we hopped the bus to go to the Natural History Museum.  The kids really wanted to see "Dum-Dum" from the movie "Night at the Museum" and I was intrigued by the Hope diamond and the supposed curse it carries.  We bought a couple of souvenirs and then caught the Metro back to the Van Dorn station.  The hotel shuttle was there when we got there, but it was full, so we had to wait for it to come back.  We were so tired, we just ordered Domino's to be delivered to our room.

On Thursday, July 31, we went downstairs to catch the hotel shuttle.  There were a lot of other people waiting to catch it too, so we decided to go get the van and park at a Pentagon City shopping mall.  The tour bus picked up right outside and we rode it until we were almost to the National Archives.  I almost wish they allowed photography inside the room with the important national documents, but on the other hand, it's so touristy as it is...it detracts from the solemnity and sacredness of these documents.  It's darkened in the room because it took them a while to figure out that light was causing them to fade.  The room is just as architecturally interesting as the rest of the city.  You almost want to whisper.  There's a semi-circle line of people bending over glass cases and guards all around, though the guards don't seem as solemn and alert as you might expect after watching National Treasure.  I asked one of the female guards if the cases are like on National Treasure and drop down below.  She said, "Girl, I don't even know!  By the time they do what they do, I've already gone home!"  Well-informed....  They told us if we didn't want to wait to see the extraneous documents, we could go to the middle of the line to see the three that we came for: The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution, and The Bill of Rights.  They are very faded and the only signature I could make out on the Declaration of Independence was John Hancock.  I was surprised that the Bill of Rights was more faded than the Constitution, though it is newer.  Of course, that can be a statement as to the content of those rights being faded figuratively.  Billy had to go to the bathroom and since Scott had seen them before, he took him.

Next, we walked a few blocks to the Crime and Punishment Museum.  We thought the kids would like this museum, especially Kimberly who is showing an academic interest in forensics and detective work currently.  In addition to display items like Ted Bundy and Bonnie and Clyde's cars and John Wayne Gacy's clown suits, there were interactive features like walking you through the investigation of a crime scene, driving simulators, and a shooting simulation.

When we left there, it was way past lunch and we considered stopping in one of the restaurants to eat.  But, we had tickets for a boat cruise that had been included in our tour tickets and we knew if we didn't get over there soon, we wouldn't have enough time.  So, we walked over to a tour bus stop to catch a bus.  We thought it would be any moment, but it ended up being about half an hour.  We could have grabbed some food and eaten while we were waiting, but we didn't know it would take that long.  While we were waiting, we saw a wreck happen in front of us where a taxi pulled a U-turn and hit a woman.  Then the tour bus took about an hour to drive to the waterfront through Georgetown.  When we arrived, we waited for about half an hour on the boat.  We were hot, tired, and hungry at this point.  When the boat pulled up, the captain informed us that he had a reserved party of 50-something people coming and he could only take 14.  We had been told that they usually line up on one side or the other of the boardwalk and there were other boats that had been lining up on one side, so we sat on the ledge on the other side.  People came and went on other boats and a long line had formed on the other side.  For one, we hadn't wanted to stand any longer than we had to since we were so exhausted.  For two, the line had seemed to ebb and flow and include people from other tours, so we didn't know where we were supposed to be.  The captain was speaking to the line and we were nearby to hear this and Scott told the captain that we had been there longer and he said that we could go and he attempted to shoo off other people in line.  A Spanish-speaking family (though my kids insist they were French) at the head of the line started throwing a fit.  Apparently they must have had more than nine people in their group and with us, were in danger of having to split up.  They started loudly, angrily protesting that they had been there first, not us.  I don't know for sure.  I didn't study the faces of everyone who was there when we arrived.  So many people had come and gone in the 30 minutes we were waiting, I couldn't tell who was there first.  And it was hot and I had forgotten sunscreen and I was turned away with my hand shading my face to try to avoid more sunburn (we had gotten a slight one already).  Kimberly started crying.  She said she didn't feel good and had a headache and wanted to go.  She does not like stress or confrontation.  I don't either, but I really hadn't wanted to give up after all that.  We wasted a large chunk of time that we could have been doing something else just to take this cruise and then to not get on the boat was beyond frustrating.  But, I quietly told Scott we needed to go.  Billy threw a fit.  It's next to impossible to change plans with him without a meltdown.  I was sorely tempted to tell those people, "Congratulations!  My kids gave up lunch and spent two hours getting here and waiting here getting sunburned to take this cruise, and now my autistic son is going into meltdown, but that's ok, you go ahead and enjoy yourself!"  But, I bit my tongue and turned away.  We got a cab and piled in.  I didn't think the cabbie would take us all since Billy had to sit in my lap, but he didn't seem to care.  We just couldn't take waiting longer for a bus to return in the heat and Billy crying and all that, so the air conditioning in the cab felt good and he took us to the Metro station near George Washington University and we rode back to where we parked our car at Pentagon City.

There are two shopping malls, one on either side of the street and when we got off the Metro, we apparently turned the wrong direction and came up into the wrong one.  I thought nothing looked familiar, but it took a while before we realized that the parking garage and mall we had been in earlier was across the street.  We ended up eating at a restaurant in the mall called Johnny Rockets.  It's a 50s-style burger joint and it was great food, but way, way, WAY too expensive for burgers and fries.  I think we paid a $90 tab!  We about choked!

After we got the van, Scott thought he would drive me by the Lincoln Memorial and pull over and I could scamper on up the hill to see the memorial and take pictures.  The traffic was yucky and as we were creeping along, we saw what looked like a small explosion up ahead.  Being in the Capitol, I was more inclined to believe that than here at home.  But, when we got closer, we realized that a car had slammed into the yellow barrels in front of the concrete dividers and the "explosion" had been sand erupting from the barrel when it was hit.  Several barrels were broken in pieces.

When we got near the Lincoln Memorial, we realized there is no place to pull over.  The only places are for buses, taxis, and handicapped people.  Most of the way around it, there's no way to stop at all or you get run over.  He would have had to have parked quite a long way away and then I would have had to have walked back and forth.  I really wanted to see Lincoln, but I was too tired for that.  I'd also wanted to take pictures at Arlington National Cemetery, so he drove over there (just across the bridge from the Lincoln Memorial), but they had just closed.  He pulled over and I walked about half a block and took a few pictures through the fence, but it just wasn't good enough and I wanted to go back in the morning before we left.

We stopped at CVS again for some Solarcaine and scrubbies (I had bought some, but we'd left them hanging on the door in Indianapolis on the first day!).  We went back to the hotel and changed to go swimming, but the pool was closed.  They said they'd only closed it a few minutes early due to problems with the chemicals, but when we checked the pool schedule, they had closed it over an hour and a half early.

Friday, August 1, Scott complained at the front desk about the pool closure.  They said they couldn't give us a credit on our bill, but they would comp us some snacks from their "store."  When I asked how much, they handed me a large plastic bag and said, "However much you want."  So, we got drinks and snacks and Kimberly even got a pint of ice cream.

We had planned on going to Hershey, PA, but since I had really wanted to see and photograph Arlington and the Lincoln Memorial and we were so wiped, we had decided to sleep in, then he would take me by those two places and then we would head straight to Atlantic City.  It was raining.  Scott dropped me off at the entrance to Arlington and spent his time avoiding security who wouldn't let him just sit there.  He'd said he thought there was a shuttle I could take, but I didn't figure that out until I'd already gone through the visitor's center and down the path a bit.  Plus, it cost $8 to ride and I was trying to hurry so I didn't want to turn around and go back in the visitor's center to pay.  Despite it being rainy, it was crowded.  I'm glad I didn't anyway, because the shuttle was like the tour bus, stopping at certain points.  It would have taken me a lot longer to get around riding the shuttle.  I had just wanted to see JFK's grave and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and then I was done.  I didn't realize that those two locations would be such a trek.  I was recovering from a back injury and the walking we had been doing was way more than I was ready for.  I had to walk down the block and cross the street just to get into the cemetery--I'd thought once I exited the visitor's center I was already there!  I had gotten a map and realized that the two things I wanted to see were a lot further than I'd bargained for.  I started walking as fast as I could towards Kennedy's grave, down a block and around a circle drive.  Then I realized that his grave was even further, up a hill.  I knew I couldn't get up there and then to the Tomb of the Unknown quickly enough, so I satisfied myself with taking pictures of what I thought was a building housing his grave.  But, now I have figured out that it is the Arlington House, a mansion that was built by George Washington's adopted grandson as a memorial to George Washington.  His daughter married Robert E. Lee, who took care of the property until it was seized by the government and the property became Arlington National Cemetery.  Looking at a map now, I realize that I was really only around the corner from the grave and totally missed it.  Duh.  So, I started hoofing it to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.  Occasionally I would pause to snap a few pictures.  I got to the Tomb and watched the guard make one revolution in his march, took a few pictures and turned around and left.  However, somehow, I got turned around and ended up walking the opposite direction.  When you see row after row after row of little white grave markers, it's easy to think that it all looks alike.  But, something didn't seem right or familiar, so I looked at my map and my surroundings and figured out I was going the wrong way.  I turned around and my husband was texting me to find out how much longer.  I had been in there almost an hour.  I hurried out and jumped in the van (he had pulled into the handicap drop off) and we took off before park police could start in on him again.  It had taken so long, I reluctantly gave up on going back to the Lincoln Memorial.  I don't think I would have had the energy to have made that walk after Arlington anyway!

I was really disappointed because the Lincoln Memorial was probably the thing I wanted to see the most.  Maybe we will get to go back sometime.  Even if it's just a long layover during a flight--taxis can get close!

We headed towards Atlantic City, stopping at 7/11 and Burger King along the way.  We went through Virginia, obviously D.C., Maryland, Delaware, and New Jersey.  We checked in at the Country Inn and Suites in Absecon, New Jersey and once we were settled, we headed to the boardwalk and beach.  I was a little surprised, driving through Atlantic City.  I expected a really nice place, but it seemed seedy and run down.  Of course, the casinos were nice and pretty.  We arrived at the beach about 6 and the sign posted said that there is no swimming after 5 or 6, I can't remember which, since there is no lifeguard on duty.  However, we weren't the only ones out there and we had come too far to not swim.  This was one of the times that I hate being the photographer.  My choices are to leave the camera in the car and go swim with my family with no pictures of this or take the camera, which I can't leave unattended, so I have to watch them swim unless one of them decides they want a break and will watch my stuff.  Since this was their first time seeing the ocean, I couldn't NOT take pictures!  I had a cheapo disposable waterproof camera, but I wanted good pictures.  I decided that I will have plenty of chances to swim in the ocean when we go on our anniversary cruise in December, though it won't be with the kids.  Gotta say, though, that that was some of the softest sand I have ever walked through!

It was really foggy and overcast and the waves were really big.  The kids kept getting knocked off their feet by the breakwater.  I even lost my footing when I went out.  Scott finally coaxed the girls out a little bit, so they could just ride the waves and not deal with the breakwater.  Billy wouldn't do it, even with Scott, even with a life vest.  He stood there most of the time with his hands behind his back, like he was standing guard.  Occasionally, he would run if he saw a big wave coming at him.  At one point, I was taking multiple pictures of him, holding the shutter button down and a large wave came up and knocked him down and under.  I ran over and grabbed him.  I was wearing a towel around my waist, so he was blowing salt water out of his nose and mouth.  He was done after that.  He sat by our towels and built sand castles and chased sea gulls.  It started raining about the time we decided to check out the shops on the boardwalk and then leave to get dinner.  We got thoroughly soaked as we went from shop to shop, getting souvenirs.  Come to think of it, I think that was the one place I forgot.  I hadn't thought much about souvenirs for myself until later and ended up ordering some from online instead.  I think I got everything except for Atlantic City.  Darn!  Arrena and Kimberly got two because theirs were so inexpensive.

We left the boardwalk and stopped at a local Chinese place, which turned out to be not so good.  We were trying new, local things, but we were striking out almost every time!  The pool was closed when we got back, so the kids took turns in the Jacuzzi tub, which was in our room!  Kimberly later confessed that she felt awkward in there and put on her swimsuit to take her Jacuzzi bath.  I'm wondering how she washed all the sand away...

Saturday, August 2, the kids and Scott got up and went swimming in the hotel pool while I took a leisurely Jacuzzi bath.  The kids came back, wanting to use the bathroom, so I pulled the curtain and there were jokes about "pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain!"  I threw their swimsuits in the hotel drier for a while and then we checked out, ate some McDonald's and hit the road.  It didn't take long for us to arrive at the Courtyard Marriott in Lyndhurst, NJ.  That's the cool thing about New England states--that everything is so close!  You drive a couple of hours and you're at a major city.  Not like the Midwest or even the West where you drive for hours and hours and see nothing but livestock and wheat or corn.  Or desert.  We ordered dinner from an Italian restaurant called Foschini's.  Scott loved the stromboli he ordered, but I was not impressed with my food, a wrap and zeppolis.  I took the kids down to the hotel pool to swim (I just sat and watched and took pictures), but it was cold, they said.  Billy discovered a shower in the corner and stayed there pretty much the whole time.  The girls swam anyway, but there was a whole gaggle of stick-thin tweens that were running back and forth between the pool and the treadmills, so I think they got tired of the giggling and girls so thin that Arrena and Kimberly said they were afraid they'd "fall through their butts and hang themselves", so we went back upstairs.

Sunday, August 3, I was completely losing track of what day it was.  We should have at least done a family devotion or something, but we forgot.  We drove into New York City and parked in a parking garage that Scott found on Groupon.  We walked a block or two over to Times Square and found the same tour bus company that we had used in D.C. and bought tour tickets.  We rode around to the Empire State Building, which I wanted to go up in.  We had made a reservation for a ferry to the Statue of Liberty and after seeing the routes and guesstimating times, we were wondering if we were going to be pressed for time.  But, the two things I really wanted to see were the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty.  Otherwise, I have very little interest in New York City.  I had looked up tickets and was amazed at how much they charge for you to go up to the observation deck.  To get up to the 86th floor, all of us, except Billy (who was $23) would pay $29.  Scott was questioning if it was worth $139.  If you want to go up to the 102nd floor top deck, that would run us $224.  And then there are the express prices, if you want to skip the lines...  Even the kids were agreeing that that was too expensive.  So, we had pretty much decided that I would go up alone and get the express pass to bypass the lines and pay $50 or to the 102nd floor for $67.  I really wanted them to have the experience, but they weren't as excited about it as I was.  When we got off the tour bus, we ran into a street vendor-type guy that sells tickets to go up to the Empire State Building and he started trying to sell me a ticket and print it right there with his little machine.  He was very nice and all and even walked us down the block and a half to the building, but I think we got scammed.  He was talking about a "fast pass" that would get me up there quick, no need to pay high price for "express" tickets.  So, then when we get almost there, he says that it would be affordable to take someone else with me, basically the same as buying one express, yada, yada.  Then all of a sudden all the kids want to go, so I said let's all go and pay the guy $174, thinking this is more than the "regular" tickets, but less than the express, so we're doing good.  Problem is that we still had to wait in lines.  There was nothing fast about it.  It's not like they have three lines: regular, fast, express.  They have regular and express and guess which one we were in.  So, we overpaid by $35.  And now I see all kinds of things online about beware of this type of thing.  Should have researched better before.  So, that trip up took forever.  I think we were there about an hour and a half.  Don't get me wrong, it was a great experience and I am glad the kids ended up going too, but when we were done, we had to run.

We were supposed to have tickets for the Statue Cruise at 2pm and it was about 1:15 and the bus tour guide was saying it would take about an hour to get to Battery Park.  So I was worried we would miss it and be out of luck.  At least I had done my research with the Statue of Liberty.  I knew that there was only one boat company that was licensed to dock at Liberty Island and I had already purchased tickets online.  I had tried to get tickets to go up in the crown, but that was booked two months out!  I tried to enjoy the tour but I was so worried about the time and losing out on $72 tickets.  More affordable than most things we did, but still!  We arrived at 2:30, but we still went to the will call window and they didn't even bat an eye.  I guess it really doesn't matter what time you pick.  We got in a huge line and went through security.  There were two lines, one for people that just showed up and bought tickets and one for those who had reserved tickets ahead of time, so our line was shorter and moved faster.  Seeing the Statue from a distance and from the Empire State Building, it looked so small, but as you approach it in the ferry, you finally realize just how big it really is.  I mean, I realized that people go inside of it and I read online how many steps there are, etc., but she still looks small from a distance, compared to the massive skyscrapers around her.  The ferry was packed and we squeezed around to one side to try to find a place to sit rather than standing and also have a good view for picture-taking.  We took pictures of the New York skyline and of the statue and then we got back on the ferry, which also stops at Ellis Island.  We didn't get off there, but it was interesting to see where so many immigrants came through.

We got back on the tour bus.  By this time, it was late afternoon and we knew that by the time the tour got us back to the beginning, the tours would be done for the day.  We had bought tickets to both the downtown and uptown loops, but had only had time to use the downtown loop.  I was disappointed because we had wanted to see Central Park, Rockefeller Center, the Chrysler Building, Grant's Tomb, and the American Museum of Natural History, where Night at the Museum takes place.  We did enjoy seeing the 9/11 Memorial Tower and where the Titanic would have docked if it had made it, a trapeze school, the Wall Street Bull, The New York Public Library that we see in The Day After Tomorrow, and one very well-informed tour guide pointed out where none other than Wolverine himself, Hugh Jackman, lives.

We had wanted to get souvenirs and Scott wanted some New York pizza, but everyone was getting tired and cranky and annoyed and having bad attitudes, so we scrapped that.  I had held a bit of a hope that we might be able to drive the other tour and see what we missed along with maybe the United Nations, but it was time to go back to the hotel.  There was so much fighting that we really started to rethink our itinerary.  We thought for a bit about staying in New York another day to finish up what we had missed, but our reservation at the hotel in Niagara Falls was non-refundable and not exactly cheap, so we couldn't just abandon that.  Scott was tempted to, but I didn't want to waste money.  We knew we had tried to cram too much into this vacation and it was overwhelming everyone, even us.  We were tired and we still had a lot left to do.  We started thinking that maybe we should scrap going to Chicago and instead of trying to push the return trip after Niagara in two days, take three days so we weren't spending as much time driving each day.  And we thought we'd go back through Columbus and Indianapolis again, which was a more direct route.  And Scott found a hotel with a water park that he thought everyone would like, rather than my boring Chicago plans of the Field Museum (I wanted to see the lions of Tsavo, the Ghost and the Darkness) and the building formerly known as the Sears Tower.  We got the car and got some Wendy's on the way back to the hotel.

We considered going back into the city before we left on Monday, August 4, but I said no because the arguing and bickering needed to stop and they needed to know I was serious and not be rewarded with getting souvenirs despite their bad behavior.  Of course, I probably ruined this by getting souvenirs later after the trip was over.  But, I also thought it was silly to pay the toll to drive the tunnel and fight traffic and pay parking just to get some t-shirts and some pizza.  We got Sonic for breakfast, detoured to Hackettstown for Starbucks and gas, unexpectedly finding the headquarters for Mars Chocolate, and got lunch at McDonalds in the Poconos.  After that, I drove for the first time in the whole trip.  In Scranton, I missed a highway exit and my GPS re-routed me through town.  Since I was already off the highway and would be passing by Clarks Summit anyway, I decided to try to find the Baptist Bible College, one of the three colleges I had been considering after high school (the other was in Chicago and would have been on my list to see if we had gone there).  I figured when was I ever going to be driving through Scranton, PA again and be able to see it???  But, I couldn't find it!  The streets were so tiny, I thought they were alleys or driveways and the GPS was having trouble keeping up so it would tell me to turn AFTER I had passed the street.  I had to turn around a couple of times and finally just gave up and got back on the highway.  Phooey.  We stopped in Elmira/Horseheads at a McDonald's for a potty break and snack and Scott went back to driving, refreshed after his nap in the passenger seat while I meandered.

We arrived at the Holiday Inn Express in Niagara Falls, NY around dinner time.  We got settled and went to Niagara Falls State Park.  It was about sunset.  From what I read online, it sounds like the better view is from the Canadian side, but none of us have passports, so we had to settle for the New York view.  We parked and walked down to the water's edge.  I kind of wanted to cross the bridge to the island and get a different viewpoint, but no one else seemed to want to.  I had contemplated coming back out later because we were told that they light up the falls at night and that it was some sort of Canadian holiday and there would likely be fireworks, but I was tired and decided that was too much trouble.  We went to find a gas station and a pizza place.  We must have been a little punchy because everything seemed funny.  We saw a shrine to the Infant Jesus and were jokingly praying, like Ricky Bobby, that little baby Jesus would guide us to a gas station before we ran out of gas.  We just kept driving and driving.  We had passed one or two gas stations, but Scott had said he wanted a 7/11.  When I saw one whiz by, I shouted, "There's one!  Baby Jesus answered your prayer!  Now, for the love of GOD, can we stop driving around?!"  The kids were cracking up.  They thought I'd lost it.  We turned around in the parking lot of a WalMart in Tonawanda, across the street from the Wurlitzer headquarters.  At the gas station, Scott got a recommendation for Pizza Shack, which we got and took back to our room.  Another bomber.

We had for sure decided on our change of itinerary by Tuesday, August 5.  We went back to the Wal-Mart by the Wurlitzer building and picked up a few things, including some DVD new releases that I knew the kids would like to see/own.  We stopped for lunch and potty and a bit of shopping at a roadside rest stop, which had a walkway over the highway.  They had everything in there and everyone sort of spread out and got the food they wanted: McDonald's, Subway, and Auntie Anne's.  We stopped again at a TA truck stop so I could drive while Scott took a nap.  Then again at a Taco Bell for a potty break and for Scott to drive again.  We finally arrived at the Embassy Suites in Columbus, OH.  It was too late for us to take advantage of that zoo membership.  The Embassy Suites was really nice, more like a big apartment building.  There was a youth leadership conference going on for disabled teens and they were really partying in the common area and the conference rooms!  We got Chipotle for dinner and drinks at a gas station and I started doing laundry in the hotel laundry room while Scott and the kids went to the hotel pool.  Not long after they went down, I had gone down to the front desk to get more change for the washers and driers when the fire alarm went off and they evacuated the hotel.  For a little while, I was worried that my clothes had caught on fire. Scott and the kids came out, wet and wrapped in towels. The fire department came, but it had been an electrical socket smoking and the all clear was given and we went back to what we were doing. It took me forever and more than $20 to get all of our laundry done. But I was able to rearrange the packing so we could leave most of our suitcases in the van at the next stop, and just take in one bag that had a change of clothes and pajamas for each of us.

Wednesday, August 6, we were getting ready to leave the hotel. Everybody was tired and grouchy and fighting with each other and yelling and carrying on. That's when mom had her meltdown. Oh, I had had my say before this, but this was the first time I had broken down into tears during the trip. At least, I think so. I was sobbing about how the kids hated Scott and Scott hated the kids and the kids hated each other and I was sick of the whole mess and my family fighting all the time and I just wanted to have a nice vacation, etc., etc., etc. Scott actually laughed at me and said, "this is what family vacation is supposed to be like." If he's right, I don't think I want to do another family vacation.

We packed up and left, and headed to Indianapolis, Indiana. We gassed up and ate at Boston Market before we left town. We had a break for a potty stop and to change drivers but got there fairly quickly. We checked into the hotel called Caribbean Cove, which was a indoor waterpark hotel sort of like Coco Key or Great Wolf Lodge. Only not as nice. It really could be a nice hotel if somebody spent some time and money fixing it up. The layout is great and the rooms have potential, it's just old and run down and neglected. When we got to our room, we decided this room was way too small for us. The beds were double beds instead of queen size beds which are too small for Scott and I both to sleep in. The girls could share one but they would be in each other's space. We'd had another hotel that had only had double beds and I ended up sharing a bed with Billy and leaving Scott to the other bed. The girls shared the fold out couch.  However, we figured out with this one that the couch did not fold out. So we had the five of us and two double beds. Not going to work. Scott had thought this said a suite and it was definitely not. He called down to the front desk and they said they had a suite available for an up-charge. We decided to go ahead and take it. We moved our stuff up to the new room which was a corner room and connected on either side to two adjoining rooms if you wanted it to. It was a huge room. When you walk in, you're in the hallway.  You turn right and you follow the hallway down to the bedroom/living area which is a huge open room. In the living room, there is a foldout couch. When you turn the corner you go into the kitchen area which has a window that you can see through to the hallway that you just came from. Taking a left from that hallway, you end up in a huge bathroom. I'd say it was probably bigger than our bathroom at home and we have a good size bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub in it. It had a separate shower and tub. The only problem with the bathroom is that there was a missing ceiling tile and I had the eerie feeling that someone could be spying on me.  Around the corner from the bathroom was another sink, giving it a total of three sinks! When we went down the hallway, one of the vending machines or ice machines was leaking and there was a huge wet puddle stretching all across the hallway. Which was really bad if you were walking around barefoot. Or in your socks as my children are wont to do. We had decided that since mom was stressed out she needed some TLC. So, while Scott took the children down to the waterpark, mama went to the nail salon for a mani-pedi. While I wanted my break from everybody and needed a relaxation time, I was a little jealous of everybody being at the water park, so I kind of wanted the mani-pedi to go quickly because I had told them after it was done I would come over and join them after a quick stop at Walmart. However, it took a lot longer than I anticipated. Normally that would be a good thing to get a longer break but when I wanted to go swim, it started to make me antsy. I ran over to the Walmart to pick up a few things including some flip-flops because the kids hadn't brought anything to walk back-and-forth to the pool with and I was considering a waterproof camera. Last year when we went to the lake for our vacation, I went looking for a waterproof camera in the disposable section. I didn't even realize they still had disposable cameras anymore. They were expensive (around $12) and I bought two of them but only used one. I brought the other one with me on our vacation but I used it all at Atlantic City. So I was going to go pick up another one at Walmart for the waterpark. But while I was standing there contemplating the thought of a $12 disposable camera and the cost of processing and developing the film, I decided it would probably be more cost-effective to buy a digital waterproof camera. They have some for fairly cheap, around $59. I figured if I had bought that in the first place I would've saved myself money already considering the film developing I was having to pay for the disposables I already had. And, considering we are planning on going on a cruise in December (an anniversary gift from my mother-in-law), I figured I could use a camera to take pictures in the water. I love taking my other camera but something happened to it in Atlantic City and it hasn't been the same since. I don't know if it was the rain and moisture got inside of it or if it was sand. There was sand in my camera bag. I've been having trouble getting it to focus ever since and when I turn the lens, it catches. I'm guessing it's sand. So I bit the bullet and bought the digital waterproof camera. Then I headed back to the hotel and ran up to the room and got changed into my swimsuit. I turned around to grab everything to go downstairs, when my family came through the door. They were done swimming and I was disappointed. There was some discussion about whether I could go downstairs with a couple of the kids again anyway but everybody was getting hungry so we discussed me taking them downstairs to go swim in the morning before we left. Just across the parking lot from our hotel, there was a Texas roadhouse and we decided to eat dinner there.

The hours on this hotel were very strange. Check-in was not until 4 PM whereas with all of our other hotels, it was 3 PM. Check out time was 11 whereas all the other hotels were noon. The water park closed at 9 PM and it opens again at 10 AM. So from check-in to time the waterpark closes was only five hours. And from the time the water park opens to the time you're supposed to check out is only one hour. Unless you were staying multiple days, it's not worth staying there for one night. We thought checkout time was noon, so we decided to go downstairs and swim for an hour and then come back and have an hour to get dressed, packed up, and leave. When we got downstairs we found that the lazy river and the slides were closed. They were having a mechanical malfunction. The primary reason I even wanted to go to the waterpark was for the sole purpose of the lazy river, so I was highly disappointed. The only things that were open was the kids' area with the jungle gym-type water playground which has a large bucket that dumps every few minutes and fountains and water sprayers, the hot tub, and a pool with a basketball goal and basketballs. Even parts of the playground were closed such as baby slides and things to climb on. We were very disappointed. We sort of took turns between the three areas we could be in. Billy wanted to play basketball, but the other boys that were in the pool were a little aggressive. They were trying to play some form of streetball and were in Billy's face and covering him so well that he couldn't get a shot off at all. He was getting really angry and upset. At one point he told one of the kids he was a brat and threatened to hit him. I pulled Billy aside and explained that this was the way they were playing basketball and if he didn't like it he should go play somewhere else. But, me and Billy's sisters decided to get in the pool and keep an eye on things to make sure that nobody was hurting Billy and that Billy wasn't going to lose his temper on another child. The other boys were pretty rough and at one point I told one to back off and get out of Billy's space. It's really hard because you don't want to say in front of Billy that he has special needs. And I'm not even sure that these kids would understand that but you'd like to explain why he reacts the way he does, and how you should act around him, and how he likes to play. His sisters were getting very protective of him and Kimberly was posing as the "bouncer." Arena decided to jump in on the game to school these boys and show them a thing or two. She also wanted to play on Billy's team, so he could have a chance. She would get the ball and pass it to him so he could shoot because they were never letting him have a chance. Even when he would get the ball they would cover him so well he couldn't get it anywhere. Being taller and older, Arena scored several times on these boys. There was also another boy there who seem to pick up Billy's distress. He was very nice to Billy and kept passing him the ball. Rough teams had sort of formed with Billy, this nice little boy, and Arrena against the rough mean little boys. I really wish I had looked for this nice little boy's parents and told them how great their kid was and thank them for his kindness to Billy. He would get the ball and be clear for a shot but instead of taking it he would pass the ball to Billy. Finally, our hour was up so we went back upstairs. We were just getting ready to change when housekeeping knocked on the door. They informed us that checkout was 11 not 12. We were not dressed and we were not packed. We hurriedly got dressed, grabbed our stuff, and headed out. Scott had tried to take a shower before we left, but the water was ice cold. And Arena had been very creeped out by something crusty on her sheets on her bed. So Scott went to the front desk to complain and apparently there was something wrong with all of the hot water in the hotel. They said there is been no water at all the day before. This hotel had some major issues. But they credited back some of the money we paid for the hotel room. It ended up making the suite that we were in almost the same price as the original tiny room we were supposed to be in.

We ate lunch at Rally's. It's exactly like Checkers which I loved when I lived in Tennessee. I still buy the fries in the frozen section at the grocery store. I drove until we got to a truck stop in Effingham Illinois. Billy started throwing fits. Since we had stayed an extra day, and Billy's dad had not taken him to his psychiatrist appointment, and told the psychiatrist he didn't agree with his ADHD meds and she refused to fill them, we were out of that med. He threw an empty pudding cup in my seat and splattered pudding remnants after I'd given him his PRN dose of Seroquel. Then when he called me an idiot, I took my DS that he was playing with away from him. This made him mad and he threw his cup of ice and what was left of his drink which got all over me and the car. I said no more food and drinks in the car since he couldn't handle it so when he didn't get a pop at the truck stop, he got mad and threw a shoe at us as we were driving down the highway. I gave him the other half of his PRN dose, and traded places with Kimberly so I could sit next to Billy. He kept trying to push buttons and grab things and I was having to restrain him. After fighting him for quite a while, I had Scott stop and we wrapped him in a blanket and buckled him where he was sort of laying down. I knew it was just a matter of time before he fell asleep. The Seroquel would make him tired and he was fighting it so it was a matter of waiting him out. But almost immediately after we got going again and he was wrapped in the blanket, he calmed down and went to sleep.

At some point we passed the state border and the time changed forward one hour. We decided to stop in Columbia Missouri to go to the Olive Garden for dinner. Everybody had to go potty and Scott said when Billy walked into the men's room where Scott already was, Billy said in a very creepy way, "hey stranger, fancy meeting you here."  After we left Olive Garden, I gave Billy his bedtime meds and thought I could sit in the front seat again, but he was hitting and kicking Arrena, so I put her in the front seat.  At first, Billy was grabbing things and pushing buttons, but then he just started fiddling with sunflower seeds.  I had a fidget kit I had brought for him, so I put some interlocking plastic chain pieces in his hand and let him fiddle with that and some other things from his kit.  He was in his own little word, making little noises to himself, but he was aware of what was going on around him, still.  Scott was listening to a Chiefs' game on the radio and after they scored, Billy quietly and almost absent-mindedly cheered and said, "we're on a roll."  He and I ended up playing a game of hot potato and Kimberly actually joined in.

We arrived home at about 10pm.  George, our cat, nearly knocked us over and welcomed us loudly.  His brother, Shadow, was nowhere to be seen.  Their auto feeder had malfunctioned (argh!) but they had been able to get the top off and were able to get to the food.  It didn't look like they had eaten as much as I had expected, but they didn't appear to be starving either.  Arrena, who gets very irritable and grouchy after a certain hour, got in trouble for throwing bags at Kimberly and mouthing off to Scott.  After they all went to bed, Scott found Shadow in the couch where he was hiding.  It took a lot of coaxing to get him to come in the house after he took off to the garage.  George, on the other hand, was following me everywhere and when I shut the bathroom door, he stood outside, yowling loudly.  He doesn't yowl.

Another funny gaffe from the trip: I don't remember where we were, but Kimberly saw the word "perms" and thought it said "penises."  That kid.  Reminds me of the time she talked about giving up her vegetarianism, but (hopefully not) Freudian slip, and she said she was giving up her virginity.  She spluttered and turned red faced and insisted that was NOT what she meant and she had no idea where that had come from!

We enjoyed the trip and a little time and distance and I am sure we will primarily remember the good parts, not the fighting and crying parts.  I need a long time before the next vacation to wipe this memory away before I haul kids around the country again.  I always said that I didn't really care to see New York City or Washington, D.C. and that if I did, once would be enough.  But, there are some things I would like to see that we missed, so maybe someday.  Maybe a long layover during a flight somewhere else.  I do want to see Hershey, Pennsylvania too.  And maybe next time at Niagara, we would have passports and could see it from the Canadian side.

After we got home, we purchased an even better trailer than the one we had originally looked at.  So, the next trip will definitely be camping/parking.  The plus side there is that we won't have to haul our luggage back and forth from the car to a hotel room and vice versa!