"Aw... come on now... it can't be that bad, Jule. Let's go get a Birdsall's (a local ice cream shoppe - that has the best banana fudge ice cream - hands down)!
These are the words that were spoken to me every time I needed to be cheered up, encouraged, consoled, motivated, or celebrated with. I am now 41 years old and my Dad is still taking me to Birdsall's for ice cream. Who knew ice cream had healing properties? It's true. Something about the process of looking up at the menu board and choosing an ice cream treat, licking in a swirl fashion, and thinking about nothing else, but how good it tastes - has the power to make the world just a little sunnier for the moment. And, as it turns out - most of us only need a moment.
So how lucky am I that my Dad has shared this ice cream wisdom with me my entire life?
My bike was backed over and crunched up when I was four - let's go get an ice cream.
My friends planned a sleep over and didn't invite me - time for ice cream.
I earned a "Superior" on my piano solo I was crazy nervous about - ice cream, here we come.
The school play didn't need my talent - ice cream fixed this too.
A break-up with a boyfriend - only ice cream would do.
Thank goodness, as I've gotten older, Birdsall's has been the answer to more celebrations than defeats.
College graduation, getting my first job, my first apartment, my first car - all causes for an ice cream cone. But my favorite ice cream celebration at Birdsall's happened when I wasn't even there. Seven or eight years ago on a hot day in July, I had been helping my parents clean out their basement - and my Dad was on grandson duty. He had been entertaining - or containing my toddler when my Mom and I realized it was very quiet upstairs. They were either napping together in the recliner - or they were gone. Soon enough we heard the back door slam and the kitchen faucet was in full force along with a lot of giggling. Evidently, it was time to carry on the tradition with my son. Neither my son nor my father have earned medals for neatness - so, as you can imagine, both of them had been treated to an ice cream cone - one was an expert ice cream eater - the other - quite the novice. At the end of this adventure, both were covered in sticky, melty missed slurps of some delicious concoction of Birdsall's ice cream - and just like that, the healing powers of ice cream were passed on to the next generation.
Happy Father's Day - to the best ice cream lovin' Dad and Grandpa in the world!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Spaceman Spiff Saves the Day
Spaceman Spiff - do you remember him? He's the alter ego of one little mischievous boy named Calvin. Calvin and Hobbes, that is. One of my favorite comic strips - no longer in the Sunday Paper, but now retired to paperback volumes you can find in the Geek Section at your local Barnes and Noble. Well, Spiff was reincarnated on the sofa in our sun room yesterday. This is how it happened. I had been requested to read to my youngest, and as it goes - way too often, I had put her off so I could finish a little project.
"Just ten minutes and I will be right there. Go pick out the books you would like to read, and I promise I will be ready. Thanks, Honey."
"Okaaaaaay," replied the dejected seven year old. Tromp, tromp, tromp. Down the stairs she pointed her little body, and went to choose her books. Then in just a few moments, I heard the return tromps back to the top of the stairs. Then, a surprise:
"I'll read to you - come over here, and we can read together," said the voice of one ten year old brother.
How could this be? Seriously? Just one second ago we were knee-deep in the de-tox, re-entry week of transitioning school life into summer life... with mom. It's been one of our rockier transitions - not one we would like to repeat. Well... unbeknownst to me, the control and attention issues that seemed to be consuming our early days of summer are now at bay, and peace has come to settle in the valley... in the form of Spaceman Spiff.
As I finished the "urgent" project, I heard somewhere behind me,
"... and then a humongous meteorite explodes into the galactic ship - forcing a crash through the ozone! The small aliens are zipped out into space and it looks as though they will perish.. until Spaceman Spiff comes to the rescue! He points super heat lasers at the ship's side and melts off a piece so the aliens can rejoin their crew! Yes!"
Well, thank goodness. I was overwhelmed with a heartfelt mommy moment. I smiled and felt happy that my two children were snuggled around the Calvin and Hobbes Treasury - content and peaceful... actually happy to be in each other's company.
Then it dawned on me. For the last week, I have played the role of the well-meaning alien - trying to guide (or maybe force) the ship safely to a landing strip in the land of summer.... and a meteorite in the form of a seven year old, has been bent on crashing our ship... until Spiff (played by a rather unassuming, peace-loving ten year old) guides our ship back to safety.
At the end of the day, the alien found her place, the galactic ship burnt out - but not before its pilot ejected at the last moment and joined the aliens happily, and Spaceman Spiff made sandwiches for the exhausted crew. And they all lived happily ever after... until school starts again.
"Just ten minutes and I will be right there. Go pick out the books you would like to read, and I promise I will be ready. Thanks, Honey."
"Okaaaaaay," replied the dejected seven year old. Tromp, tromp, tromp. Down the stairs she pointed her little body, and went to choose her books. Then in just a few moments, I heard the return tromps back to the top of the stairs. Then, a surprise:
"I'll read to you - come over here, and we can read together," said the voice of one ten year old brother.
How could this be? Seriously? Just one second ago we were knee-deep in the de-tox, re-entry week of transitioning school life into summer life... with mom. It's been one of our rockier transitions - not one we would like to repeat. Well... unbeknownst to me, the control and attention issues that seemed to be consuming our early days of summer are now at bay, and peace has come to settle in the valley... in the form of Spaceman Spiff.
As I finished the "urgent" project, I heard somewhere behind me,
"... and then a humongous meteorite explodes into the galactic ship - forcing a crash through the ozone! The small aliens are zipped out into space and it looks as though they will perish.. until Spaceman Spiff comes to the rescue! He points super heat lasers at the ship's side and melts off a piece so the aliens can rejoin their crew! Yes!"
Well, thank goodness. I was overwhelmed with a heartfelt mommy moment. I smiled and felt happy that my two children were snuggled around the Calvin and Hobbes Treasury - content and peaceful... actually happy to be in each other's company.
Then it dawned on me. For the last week, I have played the role of the well-meaning alien - trying to guide (or maybe force) the ship safely to a landing strip in the land of summer.... and a meteorite in the form of a seven year old, has been bent on crashing our ship... until Spiff (played by a rather unassuming, peace-loving ten year old) guides our ship back to safety.
At the end of the day, the alien found her place, the galactic ship burnt out - but not before its pilot ejected at the last moment and joined the aliens happily, and Spaceman Spiff made sandwiches for the exhausted crew. And they all lived happily ever after... until school starts again.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Fourth Grader by Day... Hero by Night (or Morning)
Each morning, we have this series of dance steps we move through. We eat together, I make their lunches, they engage themselves in some mommy-lovin' activity that tells me I've done a good job - like reading, drawing, writing, or just general creative play. Then when they are finished with all of their morning routines, they usually like to head outside to wait for their carpool ride. This morning was no different. When I opened the door just to do a head count and a general check, they were zipping from one side of the driveway to the next on their scooters. Soon, the youngest came in, sure that she forgot to pack some needed treasure for the school day. I continued to watch the oldest ski from pillar to post with true abandon as he took over the entire driveway. Unaware that I was watching, he all of a sudden, morphed into some type of mythical hero - saving us all from certain demise. One moment, he was just scootering along happily, and then as soon as he had the driveway to himself, he automatically ducked his head, pulled his raincoat hood over it, and squatted down to a perch on his scooter... and then the sound effects began. I would love to give you exact sounds, but because of my chromosomal make-up, I will be unable to produce the sound of a motorcycle, jet, rocket, and machine gun all rolled into a perfect cadence - as my son did. Now I notice he is no longer on the driveway, but he and his super jet-packed scooter mobile are running along side of each other through the yard... and the sound effects continue. The caped crusader is deep into saving the world.
I hear my daughter call my name to help her with a hair catastrophe, so I head up the stairs and leave my post for just a moment. When I returned, I couldn't see the super hero immediately, so I changed my positioning and waited quietly for Act II to begin. I see a few rocks and leaves bounce by the window, so I follow this activity to its origin. Sure enough, the caped hero is now fashioning some sort of weapon and a hide-out. But now the hair drama is over, and my daughter is back on the scene outside. As quickly as it began, the super hero scene from the action comic strip has ended. This is what follows:
"Joe! Where are you?"
"I'm right here. Just looking for bugs."
"Oh... can I help?"
"Sure, go get the bucket."
As she runs back to the garage, I hear humming (from the hideout) that sounds very much like Darth Vader's march to the Death Star. It's still on! I can only imagine, that in his head, he has just decoyed himself as a storm trooper and has sent the innocent Princess Leia away from what will be a certain battle to the death.
How does this work? I haven't decided if living in one's imagination is pure bliss or a curse. I mean, having to save the world from alien attacks and evil empires day in and day out could be pretty stressful. But then again, knowing that the good guy is always going to prevail - that's probably not a bad gig to have either.
I hear my daughter call my name to help her with a hair catastrophe, so I head up the stairs and leave my post for just a moment. When I returned, I couldn't see the super hero immediately, so I changed my positioning and waited quietly for Act II to begin. I see a few rocks and leaves bounce by the window, so I follow this activity to its origin. Sure enough, the caped hero is now fashioning some sort of weapon and a hide-out. But now the hair drama is over, and my daughter is back on the scene outside. As quickly as it began, the super hero scene from the action comic strip has ended. This is what follows:
"Joe! Where are you?"
"I'm right here. Just looking for bugs."
"Oh... can I help?"
"Sure, go get the bucket."
As she runs back to the garage, I hear humming (from the hideout) that sounds very much like Darth Vader's march to the Death Star. It's still on! I can only imagine, that in his head, he has just decoyed himself as a storm trooper and has sent the innocent Princess Leia away from what will be a certain battle to the death.
How does this work? I haven't decided if living in one's imagination is pure bliss or a curse. I mean, having to save the world from alien attacks and evil empires day in and day out could be pretty stressful. But then again, knowing that the good guy is always going to prevail - that's probably not a bad gig to have either.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
The Stalker
Mom! Come 'ere! I got him! Look at this!!
Wow, that's a really long worm. Where ever did you dig up such a find?
Oh, I didn't dig him up!
....well, then how did this worm come into your possession?
You see that big fat robin over there?
Yes.
I been watchin' him for a really long time. When he finally plucked up a worm from that grass, I scared him away and got his worm!!
No way...
Yes way - wanna watch me do it again??!
I'm in.
Sure enough. I have a son who is stalking winter-starved robins so he can scare the feathers clean off 'em, slide on his belly through the wet grass, and snatch away a worm that would have probably fed several families of robins. Another proud moment. Happy Mother's Day to me... I've obviously done a heck of a job.
Wow, that's a really long worm. Where ever did you dig up such a find?
Oh, I didn't dig him up!
....well, then how did this worm come into your possession?
You see that big fat robin over there?
Yes.
I been watchin' him for a really long time. When he finally plucked up a worm from that grass, I scared him away and got his worm!!
No way...
Yes way - wanna watch me do it again??!
I'm in.
Sure enough. I have a son who is stalking winter-starved robins so he can scare the feathers clean off 'em, slide on his belly through the wet grass, and snatch away a worm that would have probably fed several families of robins. Another proud moment. Happy Mother's Day to me... I've obviously done a heck of a job.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Chocolate - The Good, The Bad, and The Guilt
I'm not a big fan of the Chocolate Holidays, and I'll tell you why. They incite devious, sneaky, lying behavior at my house. Let's start with Halloween, for example. The kids dress up in overpriced pieces of stretchy nylon, hit the streets in the dark - armed with a plastic pumpkin head and a flashlight (both deadly weapons), and beg (very noble practice) for candy. They come home, we deal out the treasures, and make up arbitrary rules like: "Only one piece a day." First of all, it never works out that way, and second, if I have done the math right, we will all be eating candy that gets harder and chewier with every passing day, and will finally be inedible by the time we get to the last piece on February 13th.
But, hey, we're in luck! February 14th is the official start of the next Chocolate Holiday! This stash is much more cluttered and complicated though. The kids have to actually write something on a small piece of paper, tape on a tiny, tape-able piece of candy, and then address it to each one of their classmates. Plus, when they bring home their cache, it has to be separated from tattoos, tape, gum wrappers, and other bits of Valentiny paraphernalia before they can even hork it down. Much harder.
Not to worry. The grand-daddy of them all and the official end to the season of chocolate is just around the corner - Easter! To begin with, I stuff plastic eggs full of candy for the Easter Bunny to hide, and then indulge the Easter Bunny to leave additional trinkets and chocolate candy in a basket. Then I make them hunt for their goodies in the morning - making these chocolate treasures just that much more "valuable." Not only have I taught them that hiding candy is good, but I have also given them a plethora of sneaky spots for future hiding. It's all my fault.
So I guess I just have myself to blame for this morning's escapades. As I was getting ready for the day, assuming that both children were still slumbering peacefully in their beds, I heard a noise from the kitchen downstairs. It sounded a little like a sack of marbles dropping and then rolling about randomly across the hardwood floor. But upon closer auditory inspection, it sounded exactly like several plastic Easter eggs crashing open on to the kitchen floor, spilling out scads of jelly beans, robin eggs, and Cadbury mini eggs - accompanied by frantic bare feet hopping from pillar to post, scooping up the runaway candy. Hmmm... I can't quite remember now... did I put jellybeans and toast or Peeps and peanut butter eggs with milk on the breakfast menu ... and some little person was just helping to prepare the prescribed breakfast to surprise me?
By the time I entered the kitchen, life seemed just as normal as possible. Two children in their jammies just casually, innocently eating breakfast and writing their spelling words (rather quietly and diligently). I must have been hearing things. Surely these two Heaven-sent children could not have possibly been involved in some sort of a candy heist - right? I pretended to be completely without suspicion and gave them their usual morning hugs and kisses. We continued this charade for a few more minutes until something went terribly wrong. As one of them stood up to get more milk, I heard a peculiar, but recognizable sound. Then the mad scramble to cover up the crime was underway. The sound heard was that of a robe pocket over-filled with jelly beans spilling it's contents on to a wooden chair, that continued to roll off on to a wooden floor, which when followed, led directly to the "nest." As I let my eye follow the rolling jelly beans along the floor boards, I caught a glimpse of something shiny underneath the sofa in the sun room. When I pulled back the skirt of the sofa, to my great "surprise," I was treated to a vast array of foil wrappers, Easter grass, part of a chocolate bunny ear, and anything with coconut in it. Seems as though this job had been well underway for the last several days.
Without me saying a word, this is what followed:
Accomplice #1: "Mom, I was just moving these plastic Easter eggs from here to over there... because they needed to be moved."
Accomplice #2: ....Yeah, Mom. We weren't going to put them in our lunch boxes or anything... really!
Accomplice #1: Mom, they just spilled this morning somehow - and I didn't have time to put them all back together again... I had to get my spelling done.
Accomplice #2: ... and I didn't see anything at all. I don't even know where the candy is...
Accomplice #1: What? What's under the couch??
Accomplice #2: That's been there for a loooong time... and I don't even know why...
See? Lying, sneaky, devious behavior... all because the Chocolate Holidays... and one guilt-ridden, chocolate-loving mom who isn't ready to give up the magic of a Halloween costume, the delight of making a Valentine Box, or the lovable - yet tricky Easter Bunny.
But, hey, we're in luck! February 14th is the official start of the next Chocolate Holiday! This stash is much more cluttered and complicated though. The kids have to actually write something on a small piece of paper, tape on a tiny, tape-able piece of candy, and then address it to each one of their classmates. Plus, when they bring home their cache, it has to be separated from tattoos, tape, gum wrappers, and other bits of Valentiny paraphernalia before they can even hork it down. Much harder.
Not to worry. The grand-daddy of them all and the official end to the season of chocolate is just around the corner - Easter! To begin with, I stuff plastic eggs full of candy for the Easter Bunny to hide, and then indulge the Easter Bunny to leave additional trinkets and chocolate candy in a basket. Then I make them hunt for their goodies in the morning - making these chocolate treasures just that much more "valuable." Not only have I taught them that hiding candy is good, but I have also given them a plethora of sneaky spots for future hiding. It's all my fault.
So I guess I just have myself to blame for this morning's escapades. As I was getting ready for the day, assuming that both children were still slumbering peacefully in their beds, I heard a noise from the kitchen downstairs. It sounded a little like a sack of marbles dropping and then rolling about randomly across the hardwood floor. But upon closer auditory inspection, it sounded exactly like several plastic Easter eggs crashing open on to the kitchen floor, spilling out scads of jelly beans, robin eggs, and Cadbury mini eggs - accompanied by frantic bare feet hopping from pillar to post, scooping up the runaway candy. Hmmm... I can't quite remember now... did I put jellybeans and toast or Peeps and peanut butter eggs with milk on the breakfast menu ... and some little person was just helping to prepare the prescribed breakfast to surprise me?
By the time I entered the kitchen, life seemed just as normal as possible. Two children in their jammies just casually, innocently eating breakfast and writing their spelling words (rather quietly and diligently). I must have been hearing things. Surely these two Heaven-sent children could not have possibly been involved in some sort of a candy heist - right? I pretended to be completely without suspicion and gave them their usual morning hugs and kisses. We continued this charade for a few more minutes until something went terribly wrong. As one of them stood up to get more milk, I heard a peculiar, but recognizable sound. Then the mad scramble to cover up the crime was underway. The sound heard was that of a robe pocket over-filled with jelly beans spilling it's contents on to a wooden chair, that continued to roll off on to a wooden floor, which when followed, led directly to the "nest." As I let my eye follow the rolling jelly beans along the floor boards, I caught a glimpse of something shiny underneath the sofa in the sun room. When I pulled back the skirt of the sofa, to my great "surprise," I was treated to a vast array of foil wrappers, Easter grass, part of a chocolate bunny ear, and anything with coconut in it. Seems as though this job had been well underway for the last several days.
Without me saying a word, this is what followed:
Accomplice #1: "Mom, I was just moving these plastic Easter eggs from here to over there... because they needed to be moved."
Accomplice #2: ....Yeah, Mom. We weren't going to put them in our lunch boxes or anything... really!
Accomplice #1: Mom, they just spilled this morning somehow - and I didn't have time to put them all back together again... I had to get my spelling done.
Accomplice #2: ... and I didn't see anything at all. I don't even know where the candy is...
Accomplice #1: What? What's under the couch??
Accomplice #2: That's been there for a loooong time... and I don't even know why...
See? Lying, sneaky, devious behavior... all because the Chocolate Holidays... and one guilt-ridden, chocolate-loving mom who isn't ready to give up the magic of a Halloween costume, the delight of making a Valentine Box, or the lovable - yet tricky Easter Bunny.
Friday, April 15, 2011
The Only List They'll Ever Need
Overheard:
"I can't be responsible for everything, Joe. If you want to learn how to cross your eyes so that only one moves, you will just have to ask mom. She's the one who taught me."
Wow. I didn't realize I had given lessons in that area. I had to stop and think what exactly I have taught my children in the last ten years. I guess I was hoping for at least a few life skills - like, tying shoes, making a bed, some simple multiplication, and maybe even the intricacies of flipping a pancake. Somehow crossing their eyes is what made it to the top of the list. I thought I better retool the list of lessons my elementary-aged children should learn before they hit the pavement to seek their fortunes:
1. Always say thank you - even it's directed to the lab tech that just poked you six times in the attempt to get a sample of your blood - would you rather have me try? I think not.
2. When someone is angry in the house, start cleaning something.
3. Spend some time on your teeth - The Bald Knobbers show is no longer hiring.
4. Notice the little things and appreciate a beautiful sunset... or the trail of sticky juice you just spilled as you walked through the entire house.
5. Be kind. Even when it seems it's getting you nowhere, this one always pays off at a later date.
6. Close the door behind you without slamming it - and first make sure no one is directly behind you - in that case, hold it for them.
7. Go to church - and occasionally listen instead of making origami frogs out of the bulletin.
8. Break a sweat now and again.
9. Just because your friend's lunch is chock full of Little Debbie Snack cakes and Slim Jims and yours is not - does not make me a mean mommy. It just means that what goes around, comes around - I didn't get that kind of a lunch as a kid, so you can't have it either. Simple "Bitter Child" law.
10. Help someone every chance you get.
11. Laugh at yourself. Laugh at funny people, places, and things. But don't laugh at funny-looking people.
12. Clean up what you get out - all of it. No one likes to find a splotch of pink play dough on the seat of their pants when they return home from a trip to Target.
13. Oh, and learn one skill that sets you apart from your peers... like crossing only one eye at a time.
There. That oughta do it.
"I can't be responsible for everything, Joe. If you want to learn how to cross your eyes so that only one moves, you will just have to ask mom. She's the one who taught me."
Wow. I didn't realize I had given lessons in that area. I had to stop and think what exactly I have taught my children in the last ten years. I guess I was hoping for at least a few life skills - like, tying shoes, making a bed, some simple multiplication, and maybe even the intricacies of flipping a pancake. Somehow crossing their eyes is what made it to the top of the list. I thought I better retool the list of lessons my elementary-aged children should learn before they hit the pavement to seek their fortunes:
1. Always say thank you - even it's directed to the lab tech that just poked you six times in the attempt to get a sample of your blood - would you rather have me try? I think not.
2. When someone is angry in the house, start cleaning something.
3. Spend some time on your teeth - The Bald Knobbers show is no longer hiring.
4. Notice the little things and appreciate a beautiful sunset... or the trail of sticky juice you just spilled as you walked through the entire house.
5. Be kind. Even when it seems it's getting you nowhere, this one always pays off at a later date.
6. Close the door behind you without slamming it - and first make sure no one is directly behind you - in that case, hold it for them.
7. Go to church - and occasionally listen instead of making origami frogs out of the bulletin.
8. Break a sweat now and again.
9. Just because your friend's lunch is chock full of Little Debbie Snack cakes and Slim Jims and yours is not - does not make me a mean mommy. It just means that what goes around, comes around - I didn't get that kind of a lunch as a kid, so you can't have it either. Simple "Bitter Child" law.
10. Help someone every chance you get.
11. Laugh at yourself. Laugh at funny people, places, and things. But don't laugh at funny-looking people.
12. Clean up what you get out - all of it. No one likes to find a splotch of pink play dough on the seat of their pants when they return home from a trip to Target.
13. Oh, and learn one skill that sets you apart from your peers... like crossing only one eye at a time.
There. That oughta do it.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Road
A couple of weeks ago, we stuffed the mom van full of enough snacks and entertainment to keep a troop of monkeys happy for a week, and headed south to Gulf Shores, Alabama for a week on the beach.
What made our first family road trip so special? Let me fill you in:
1. The snacks - for some reason, all food rules are literally out the window when it comes to traveling.
2. Uninterrupted time to talk with my husband - who knew plugging the kids into movies and ds games for 18 hours would almost be like a date?
3. Hearing my mother's voice come somewhere out of my mouth. Saying things like: "Kids, who wants to play a game where we see who can find the most signs of spring?" and "Just look at how GREEN it is!"
4. Narrowly escaping being maimed when the car's back tire in the lane next to us suddenly exploded and sent pieces of plastic, strips of bent metal, and hunks of rubber hurdling in our direction. All I can say is that the parents were glad that the kids were ear phoned up at the time... not sure what was said... pretty sure it wasn't "Oh my, there seems to be a disturbance next to us, let's hurry along now."
5. Gas station bathrooms... enough said.
6. While parked at a gas station/convenience store somewhere along a lonesome highway in Mississippi, a group of young men pulled up next to us. They must have seen our license plates because when they got out of their car, they all gawked into our windows as if to say, "So that's what Minnesotans look like!" They were all on cool duty as they made their way to the entrance - all swaggering and stretching their necks up to appear taller than they were - apparently proud to be Mississippi residents and still have a full set of teeth. When the last one was sashaying along the sidewalk in front of a locked cage full of propane tanks for grills, he somehow caught the edge of his t-shirt on the padlock which not only surprised him, but also pulled him back rather abruptly and managed to rip out the entire seam of his shirt. The Minnesotans observed that it's a bit tricky to maintain hip, slick, and cool when being jerked around by an inanimate object - even when you have all your teeth. A little slice of entertainment that provided us with laughter for a good twenty miles after that.
7. Reaching our destination with all of our faculties still in tact and actually still talking with one another.
Our spring break trip was, by all accounts, a great time and a complete success. People are funny, and it seems that the farther we get from home, the funnier they get. I'm sure the people we encountered along the way thought we talked and looked funny too - in fact, I'm sure I stuck out among the locals when I rolled out of the van in a McDonald's parking lot wearing a wool scarf, long pants, and a sweater on a 70 degree day in Mobile, AL. Although the airport in itself can be a real trip these days, the road gave us an opportunity to look around and observe and actually see what else is out there. So... I think we'll pack up our snacks, earphones, and funny people and do it all over again next year.
What made our first family road trip so special? Let me fill you in:
1. The snacks - for some reason, all food rules are literally out the window when it comes to traveling.
2. Uninterrupted time to talk with my husband - who knew plugging the kids into movies and ds games for 18 hours would almost be like a date?
3. Hearing my mother's voice come somewhere out of my mouth. Saying things like: "Kids, who wants to play a game where we see who can find the most signs of spring?" and "Just look at how GREEN it is!"
4. Narrowly escaping being maimed when the car's back tire in the lane next to us suddenly exploded and sent pieces of plastic, strips of bent metal, and hunks of rubber hurdling in our direction. All I can say is that the parents were glad that the kids were ear phoned up at the time... not sure what was said... pretty sure it wasn't "Oh my, there seems to be a disturbance next to us, let's hurry along now."
5. Gas station bathrooms... enough said.
6. While parked at a gas station/convenience store somewhere along a lonesome highway in Mississippi, a group of young men pulled up next to us. They must have seen our license plates because when they got out of their car, they all gawked into our windows as if to say, "So that's what Minnesotans look like!" They were all on cool duty as they made their way to the entrance - all swaggering and stretching their necks up to appear taller than they were - apparently proud to be Mississippi residents and still have a full set of teeth. When the last one was sashaying along the sidewalk in front of a locked cage full of propane tanks for grills, he somehow caught the edge of his t-shirt on the padlock which not only surprised him, but also pulled him back rather abruptly and managed to rip out the entire seam of his shirt. The Minnesotans observed that it's a bit tricky to maintain hip, slick, and cool when being jerked around by an inanimate object - even when you have all your teeth. A little slice of entertainment that provided us with laughter for a good twenty miles after that.
7. Reaching our destination with all of our faculties still in tact and actually still talking with one another.
Our spring break trip was, by all accounts, a great time and a complete success. People are funny, and it seems that the farther we get from home, the funnier they get. I'm sure the people we encountered along the way thought we talked and looked funny too - in fact, I'm sure I stuck out among the locals when I rolled out of the van in a McDonald's parking lot wearing a wool scarf, long pants, and a sweater on a 70 degree day in Mobile, AL. Although the airport in itself can be a real trip these days, the road gave us an opportunity to look around and observe and actually see what else is out there. So... I think we'll pack up our snacks, earphones, and funny people and do it all over again next year.
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