HERE WE GO!

Tomorrow, tomorrow. We leave for our trip tomorrow!

After 7 months of planning and research I am finally packed and ready to go. Here is my suitcase in the hallway, waiting to be loaded into the car -

Here is Erik's suitcase -


Did I mention that we are leaving tomorrow morning?

Sample conversation from Sunday evening:

Erik: When are we leaving again?
Me: Tuesday morning.
Erik: Oh. Can you bring that guide book so that I can read about Tonga on the plane?
Me: Okay.
Erik: How long are we going to be gone?
Me: 15 days.
Erik: Where exactly are we going again?
Me: SERIOUSLY??

He wonders why I am stressed out about this trip. Perhaps it has something to do with actually researching where we are going. It's amazing what a little knowledge will do. The more I learn, the more unprepared I feel. I have frantically spent the last month getting immunizations (typhoid, hepatitis, etc.), searching for the perfect mosquito net, reading up on Tonga's current political problems and recent ferry tragedy, and, most importantly, trying to think of ways to keep the rats from eating the bottom of my feet off (à la Elder John Groberg in the Other Side of Heaven).

I made a detailed itinerary using Tripit.com, printed out maps for every single place we are going, and made a list of Plan B activities just in case things are rained out. I bound it all together nicely with dividers in this little trip folder. Psychotic? Maybe a little.


So, for Erik's (and your) benefit, here's how the first leg of the trip is gonna go down -

If only I had a dollar for every time someone asked me where Tonga is....

After dropping the kids off at my in-laws, we leave the airport, have a layover in Samoa, cross over the International Dateline, and arrive in Tonga on Thursday morning. We will spend four nights at the lovely* Vakaloa Beach Resort ("Where Nature Meets Life!") and then stay the remainder of our time in Tonga at my brother-in-law's parents' house.

Not sure if I'll have internet access or if I'll even want to have internet access. So, nobody freak out if I don't post again on my blog for awhile.

Bye!


*According to Tripadvisor. I love Tripadvisor.

CHIM CHIM CHER-EE

Guess who has a file with their name on it at Poison Control?!

It's not me, Erik, or Charlie!

Last night around 8 p.m., Luke came into our bedroom sucking on an empty bottle of cherry flavored Childrens Tylenol. Yes, he had gotten into the medicine cabinet and drank an almost full bottle. No, those child safety caps do not work.

So, after calling Poison Control, I took Luke to the Appalachian Emergency Room quaint hospital down the street from our house. (Why, yes, Luke has a file with his name on it there too.) They got him right in and immediately started feeding him charcoal. Once that was over, the excitement began! We got to wait for 3 hours in a crowded room where we met a man who had unsuccessfully slit his wrists, a 90 year old woman suffering from pneumonia, and a girl who ate a bad cheeseburger in Mexico. Around 1 a.m., they tested his blood, the charcoal had worked it's magic and we got to go home.

Wait - it's not over yet!

Poor Luke. This picture was taken at 2 a.m. today.

Then, Luke threw up all the charcoal in the car on the way home. I still haven't ventured out to the car today to see how bad the mess is in there. I'm scared at what I'll find.

This time next week we are supposed to be sitting on the beach in Tonga, roasting a pig. At this rate, it'll be a miracle if we make it on our vacation.

FOR SHAME!

It all began almost 3 weeks ago. I was driving down with the boys to meet Erik in San Diego. It was hot. We were tired. Luke and Charlie were screaming. The last thing I wanted to do was stop and have to take them both out of the car.

Anyway, I'm just making excuses.

The first time Luke told me he had to go to the bathroom, Charlie was sound asleep. So, I pulled off the freeway into a mall parking lot, found a bush, and told Luke to pee on it. I rationalized this because Charlie was asleep and one should never wake a sleeping baby.

The second time Luke told me he had to go to the bathroom, Charlie was awake, but I was being lazy. I pulled off the freeway into a hospital parking lot, found a bush. and again, told Luke to pee on it. I didn't rationalize this, I was just tired.

So, yesterday I looked outside and caught Luke "watering" the bushes.


Ugh.

Erik said sarcastically, "Way to go, Mommy. Great example."

So, now I must start the painful process of teaching Luke that although I was encouraging him to pee on bushes, this is not okay, and to ignore everything I told him that one day we were in the car.

See, I'm not perfect. Now you know.

KEEPING MY WORD

I would make a horrible politician.

[I realize that this statement will come back to haunt me if I ever decide to run for public office. However, at this point, I think it's safe to say that my entire blog will come back to haunt me if I ever decide to run for public office.]

It's beginning to feel like I never keep my word. I swore I would never live in the desert. (Let's be honest, this is the desert.) I promised to never do a home birth, on purpose. I think at one point I even said that I would never marry the guy that is currently my husband. (Sorry, Honey, it's true.)


Do you guys remember Scott Scanlon? He was a nerdy kid on the first few seasons of 90210. They wrote him out of the show on a "very special episode" about gun control. Scott was showing off his father's gun to David, when it suddenly went off and killed him. All the popular and cool kids like Dylan and Kelly, who had ignored him while he was alive, came to his funeral in black halter tops and cried. It made no sense, but that is besides the point.



This really affected me. I saw that as a teenager and said to myself, "No guns in our house. NO WAY." Flash forward 15 years or so and not only do we own guns, but this is what we did on Saturday -


My 15 year old self would not approve.

ESCAPE ARTIST

One of the first things that we did when we moved into this house were to install latches across the tops of two doors leading outside. (Luke quickly discovered that he could move a chair to the door to stand on and easily undo the latches. Actually, as I write this I can hear him trying to get the latches open.) Then we put locks on our backyard gates. People don't believe me when I say that he is always trying to escape. Yes, he must hate us. That is the only explanation. Why else would he be constantly running away?

Running Away in Snowboots and Pajama Pants

The other day I caught Luke trying a new way to escape. I love the kid logic in this. You can see the progression in this picture. He first moved a ball to the fence, then the little play thing, then a step stool, and then an even higher step stool. Poor kid. He still can't figure out why he can't get over the fence.

IF ONLY SHE READ MY BLOG

Dear Alcoholly,

Thanks for the awesome shawl/Incan Poncho/tablecloth/nursing cover and matching handbag. You're right. The outfit "screams Cristin." I can't wait for it to get a little colder so that I can wear it every day.

Love,

Dearheart

BE TRUE TO YOUR SCHOOL

Today is the first day of school, which means...

ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO ME!

I always find it really funny when other parents are so happy that their kids are back in school. Since, really, it's so hard when your potty trained, able to feed and entertain themselves, can express to you what they want, sleep through the night, fully functioning, 10 year olds are home with you during the summer?

[Can you tell that I am having trouble envisioning a time when my kids won't be so dependent on me? ]

Seriously, though, I dream about the time when it will be a little easier to do fun activities with my kids during the day. School just seems like it will get in the way of all that. Then again, I was homeschooled as a kid, so maybe I'm a weirdo.

Anyway, Happy First Day!

NOWHERE TO RUN

Day 8 in the hotel. The kids are screaming. Erik is at work. There is nowhere to run, but at least I have maid service.

I'm beginning to wonder if this is foreshadowing what our lives will be like if we ever move back to Ventura County... living in a 450 sq foot apartment with a lousy dishwasher near the beach, minus the housekeeping, complimentary breakfast and evening social hour.

I've decided that I like living in a house. I like having a backyard. I like not having cable.

Living here is starting to drain on me. Erik gets home late. The kids go to bed around 9:00 p.m. and then around 10 p.m. we watch a movie on the laptop with our headphones. It's weird all living in one big room. I'm not sure how the pioneers did it.

The Bathing Suit on the Head game is always a winner.

I've taken to using strange ways to entertain the kids since I only brought a small box of trains for them to play with. Luke got a doll robot figurine from the 99 Cent Store that he named "Onchi." I'm letting Luke watch my least favorite kid's show in the world, "Dragon Tales," while Charlie naps because I don't know what else to do to keep him quiet.

Luke having a meltdown at the temple.

I think the situation is taking a toll on the kids, too. Luke is crankier than usual. Charlie wakes up 3 times a night.

It's the little things I miss. You know, like spending time in a different room than the rest of my family, doing the laundry in my own house, letting the kids run around in the backyard, and actually having a life after the kids go to sleep. It's strange when the real vacation feels like the time I have at home.

I still believe this is better than being a single parent for a month. At least we're together as a family, right!?

LIFE IN THE BIG CITY

Well, I was home for all of one week when Erik got sent down to San Diego to work for an unspecified amount of time. After a few days by myself (plus his week of mancation), I decided that it is much better to be with him than to be alone.

Wondering what it is like to live in a hotel room with your two little kids?


First of all, routine goes out the window. Our kids normally go to bed by 8 p.m., this picture was taken at 10:15 p.m. last night. That's right. It is a non-stop party around here. We like to think of it as camping, all sleeping in one big tent hotel room.

Besides poor little Charlie's nap schedule though, everything is great. Today is Day 4 of our "house-hotel" adventure. (That's what Luke likes to call it.) I am really enjoying it here. Erik doesn't get off work till around 6:30 p.m., so I have all day to spend with kids. Of course, at home I also have all day to spend with the kids, but here it feels different. Without housework, church responsibilities, and other distractions, I feel like I have nothing else to do but to spend time with the kids. I love it! We have gone to museums, movies, a puppet show, numerous parks, rode a carousel, and just sat on the hotel room floor to play with trains.

And guess what? I love being a mom! I love doing things with my kids! Amazing!! I went through a phase recently where I didn't feel like taking the kids anywhere because I was so tired of their fighting and temper tantrums. I look forward to every day here to see what we can find to do next. Who cares if we have to hang a beach towel over a closet door and blast a fan for Charlie to sleep! This won't be forever. I will actually be sad to go back to normal life.

It probably doesn't hurt that I am in love with San Diego too.

SAY IT AIN'T SO

I never know how to respond when someone compliments my kids.

Compliment: Oh, he's so cute!

Possible Answer: Thanks! (I'm taking the credit?)
Possible Answer: I know! (Too cocky?)
Possible Answer: Really? That little kid? (False modesty?)

Even worse, I really don't know how to respond when someone makes strange comments about my kids. (In case you are wondering, these are real and recent.)

Real Comment: Charlie was born with a perma-tan! [laughing]

Possible Answer: What does that mean? Is that even a word?
Possible Answer: Excuse me?
Possible Answer: Why is that so funny?

My Actual Answer: It's called jaundice.

Real Comment: Luke looks like a cancer patient with that hat on.

Possible Answer: Yeah, he does look really sick, doesn't he?
Possible Answer: Well, you look like a cancer patient with that face.
Possible Answer: I'll show you where to shove your "cancer patient."

My Actual Answer: [Silence]

LUCKY I'M IN LOVE WITH MY BEST FRIEND

There is nothing that makes me laugh more than getting a wedding announcement that says, "This Day I Will Marry My Best Friend."

Gag.


No, wait, I mean, gag me with a roll of "Today I Marry My Best Friend" ribbon for only $22.98!

Any mention of "best friend" and "wedding" in the same sentence makes me go nuts. It's just so incredibly cheesy. It sounds like the type of things fifth grade girls write in their My Little Pony diaries in purple ink. Besides, I should hope that your spouse is your best friend. What is the point of stating the cheese ball obvious?

As I normally do when seeking validation, I called my sister, Kelley. Surprisingly, she disagreed. "Not everyone marries their best friend," she said. "Vak wasn't my best friend." She said that when she gets a "Best Friend" wedding announcement she thinks, "Wow, lucky them!" (I forgot that Kelley's opinion is disqualified since she cries during Kelly Clarkson music videos.)

Then I spoke with my sister, Kaci. She said that she didn't marry her best friend either! What?!

Finally, I called my mom. All I wanted was for someone to agree with me that best friend wedding announcements are lame. She agreed! "It's stupid," she said, "Why don't they just say something like 'Today I Marry My Best Sexual Partner'?" Uh, much better idea, Mom.


As for Erik and I, were we best friends when we got married? Maybe, but only by default . Our announcement should have read, "This day I marry my only friend because I alienated all my other friends by getting engaged."

It's been a fun 8 years, only friend.

THE MORNING AFTER PILL

At midnight you discover that your toddler is sleeping in his own vomit. Do you wake him up?

This was the case last night and I had to think about it for a very long time. Under no circumstances do you ever wake a sleeping baby, right? However, when your little tyke has unrecognizable hot dog pieces and regurgitated blueberries stuck to the side of his head, it's kind of hard not to want to clean him up.

So at 12:30 a.m. this morning, I carefully lifted Charlie out of his crib, changed his sheets, wiped him down, and tried to put him back to bed. I wish I could say that he didn't wake up, but that is not how it went down at all.

There was a lot of screaming. Then 30 minutes later there was more screaming. Then he gave me an hour before he started screaming again. It lasted like this until 7:00 a.m. I have no clue what I am doing up right now, except that I do believe I just saw an elephant jump out of my computer monitor and tap me on the shoulder. Dang those hallucinations.


Although it is a huge blessing to be a stay-at-home mom, I still have to "work" regardless of how bad the previous night was. Thank goodness for Excedrin. I'm not an addict, just completely reliant on it to function through the day after no sleep. Oh, how I love those tiny white pills. (Not an addict. Promise.)

On a totally not - but sort of - related note, today I bought NyQuil capsules to take on the airplane when we go on our trip. I never sleep on airplanes, but I want to change that. Erik said I should have just bought a bottle of whiskey.

HIT AND RUN

Charlie being an embarrassment, as usual.

Oh, Charlie. I thought I knew what humiliation was until I met you.

Tonight at mutual, he pooped through his diaper, through his shorts, and onto... the carpet. Like a dog. Like a mangy, dirty, filthy, untrained dog. If you are ever wondering what to do in this situation, I have the answer: You should run away as fast as you can... even if it means that you have to drive home with poop on your clothes and hands.*

To be honest, I'm really surprised that I haven't caught some sort of third world disease from all of the fecal matter floating around my house. (Oh, recent dinner guests, don't act surprised. We have two little kids!) I used to give Charlie my iPod to play with while I was changing his diaper, until he shoved my iPod in his poop. Next, I tried to give him his toothbrush to hold until.... you guessed it!... he shoved that in his poop too! Obviously, it is just too tempting for him to shove things in his poop.

I smell poop so much that I can hardly smell it anymore. I have turned into one of those mothers who flips my child around, hangs him by one leg and takes a few long sniffs with my nose literally touching his butt. Maybe the reality is that I am really embarrassing myself.

* 60-40

MOVIE REVIEW: G-FORCE

Wouldn't it be neat if I could blame my affinity for stupid movies on my kids? I could say that it's all their fault that I pay to see these dumb things in the movie theater, but that would be a lie. Long before I had kids, I was dishing out money to see things like Air Bud and Spice World. I enjoy cheesy stuff. I cried at the end of Mighty Ducks 2. I laughed hysterically during Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen. I even felt anger towards Justin when he ditched Kelly for her friend in From Justin to Kelly.

Yet, even I have a limit. G-Force reminded me of a lame Saturday Night Live skit that went on for way too long. It just wasn't funny, which was actually pretty surprising because the previews were really funny. Even the actors seemed tired towards the middle. Will Arnett disappeared half way through the movie -- maybe he realized what this would do to his career?? -- and then inexplicably showed up at the end. Also, Tracy Morgan is a hilarious guy but an irritating guinea pig. Besides, let's face it, guinea pigs are not interesting animals. They are super boring, even when they are equipped to talk like the dogs in Up. (Up, now that is a good movie!)

The one positive aspect of the movie was that it was boring enough to put Charlie to sleep. (Yipee!) Luke was too busy consuming insane amounts of candy to really notice the idiocy taking place on screen. Which reminds me, if you are going to allow your 3 year old to eat an entire bag of jelly beans, you better prepared for him to start tap dancing in the aisles during the movie. Which, of course, he did. Time to get that kid dancing lessons!

GRADE: D+ (I can't give Will Arnett an F.)

BURGER WARS CONTINUE

Even the Chosen One eats at Five Guys, Random Stranger. Get with the now.

In response to a post that I wrote last month criticizing In-N-Out, Random Stranger recently wrote -

"Cristin should be glad I'm moving further away from her, because if I was within a ten-hour drive of her, I'd show up at her door and punch her right in her mouth."

My thoughts, in this order, were -

1. Perhaps I should have attended the self-defense class last Saturday that promised how to teach me to use a kitchen knife like a Navy SEAL.

2. Punch me in the mouth? Well, then I'm going to have to knee him in the groin.

3. For a native Californian to admit that another fast food place is better than In-N-Out is comparable to a Mormon condemning the temple. I have obviously committed blasphemy, but how can I go back now? In the fast food world, In-N-Out is leagues ahead of McDogfood and Burger King, but at the end of the day their hamburgers still consist of a wimpy piece of meat with way too much sauce. Five Guys may cost a little more, but at least they offer more options. I won't even begin to go into a comparison of their fries since even an idiot knows you can't defend In-N-Out's fries.

Verdict: Random Stranger has poor judgment and bad taste. (Proof indicated by his inclination to beat up women and blue-haired senior picture below.)

ALL BY MYSELF

Erik returns from his mancation tonight. If there is one thing I have learned from having him gone for 7 days, it is that husbands are totally overrated. Who needs 'em? Not me!

Actually, I told him on the phone today that I would rather hate his guts and live with him, than be a single mother. In other words, divorce is not an option until the kids are out of the house.

So, here's what I have accomplished while I have been alone this week -

Who wears short shorts?

I watched the most dramatic Bachelorette finale ever. It was dramatic because everyone was dying to found out if Ed would wear his scary green mankini shorts again. (He did, ew.) The show seemed more fake than ever this season. What I really want to see is for a contestant to go rogue, i.e., Reid's return was too scripted. He should have interrupted Ed's proposal by landing in between them with a parachute and a ring pop. Now, that would have been the most dramatic rose ceremony ever.


One morning this week I started pruning the front yard, but got lazy, so I hired these guys to do it for me. Erik would not approve. He is against paying anyone to do something that we could do ourselves. I just liked these guys because they had really good tools... and I was tired.


The worst part about Erik being gone is how lonely I get. There isn't a night that goes by when I don't look out the window and pull a Fievel by singing, "Somewhere Out There."

Also, I can't sleep when he's gone and it is starting to catch up with me. Today, I knew I was losing my mind when I started using my small and hard plastic wipes container as a wallet.

Hurry home, Honey. Please.