Parenting on a x-country trip

I have establish a useful ledger on Family Behavior. When indicated, please insert specified scenario.

Scenario A: Sibling I baits Sibling II into a verbal confrontation. Verbal confrontation escalates into a physical altercation, usually followed by a full frontal attack. The remaining siblings choose sides. Takes approximately 10 minutes to peak or until a parent is provoked enough to intercede.

Scenario B: A territorial infraction. Defined as crossing seating lines, touching seat belt, encroaching feet into seat space, repeatedly rapping back of seat with feet or otherwise touching anyone anywhere. Includes both purposeful and accidental infractions resulting in same outcome. By passes verbal stage and goes directly to physical retaliation. Five to 7 minutes peak depending on the non driving parent tolerance.

Scenario C: A technology infraction. Defined as touching laptop, touching digital camera , touching video channel changer or taking unflattering pictures of siblings and threatening to post them on the internet. Immediate full on assault requiring quick parental intervention (this for fear of technology loss, bones heal). Two to three minutes, tops.

Scenario D: Any of the above scenarios complicated by Parent I disapproving of Parent II disciplinary tactics, saying so forcefully, resulting in a long rehash of previous parental failures. The children take sides. No time limit.

We left Montana very early, hoping the kids would sleep until breakfast maybe three- four hours down the road. Sadly, not so.
“Chase, what presidential candidate came from South Dakota?” asked Nick.
“I don’t care” She shrugged.
“Is it because you don’t KNOW the answer” replied Nick.
Insert Scenario A.

“You kicked my head”
“I did not! You put your head down by my heel”
“You moved your heel over on purpose”
“ No I didn’t. You purposely lowered your head down”
Insert Scenario B.

D. had googled “The Best Diner in Bozeman” and it was an ok breakfast in a ok diner with famous people on the wall, only one which I recognized. Michael Keaton, and this only because a batman poster was next to him with his name printed on it.
“Oh sure” said D. “There are a lot of famous people here, such as John Kerry’s first wife.”
OK .

Back on the road, the kids rejected the World at War and Ken Burns Civil War series for a fourth viewing of Ratatouille.

“Do you think the kids are stupid, you know, dull, uninterested? D. asked disappointly. I reassured him the kids are just tired. Secretly, I don’t blame them. Please, World at War for the next twelve hours? Taser me now.

Still it was a little concerning that Ratatouille, even in its fourth viewing, out ranked almost every natural wonder we encounter as we left Montana.
“Hey look kids, look at the waterfall, isn’t it pretty?”
“Huh” said Nick, lifting one ear piece.
“I forgot this part” giggled Bresh. How could she forget? She just saw it an hour ago.

There was one exception. Prairie dogs, real ones this time, who dotted the landscape in the thousands.
“Slow down Mom slow down! I didn’t get the picture of him he was sooooo cute.”
“Oh man, my camera is dead again. Do we have any more batteries?”
Prairie dogs rule.

Eventually, the beautiful mountains, the pine trees and the winding rivers gave way to gentle rolling hills, scrubs and winding rivers. Which gave way to flat lands. Then dry, flat lands followed by even more drier, flatter lands.

“I thought we were in the Black Hills” I said “I don’t see any hills“
D. points to a few distant bumps.
“And I thought they were black. Do they look black to you?” I ask
D. shrugged.
I noticed D. fiddling with his cell phone.
“I don’t think there is coverage.” I offered.
I’m trying to get email” He said “ Beth is just forwarding personal stuff. No work”
“Are you feeling… left out?” I asked
No he denied.
Crackberry rehab is tough.
“Hey, try the radio . Let’s see if we can get NPR“ He suggested.
Crackberry addiction complicated with particular severe case of politicio-itis.
It was going to be a long drive.

Maybe five or six hours in D. asked if I wanted to turn off and see the site of The Battle of Little Big Horn.
Well, yah! I would. I loved Indian history when I was Nick and Chase’s age. All those stories of Sitting Bull and Chief Red Cloud. The kids are just going to LOVE this.

And so we trucked off the highway and Sherman lugged up the road through wrinkly hills to Little Bighorn. As we traveled, I tried to whip up the kids sense of history. Did they know this famous battle? Had they heard of Custer? Did they know he DIED here?
Nick lifted his video handset off one ear.
“Who won?” He asked.
“The Indians” D. said.
“Cool” and then it was back to Ratatouille.

Just as we enter the park there is a warning. Anything taken from the battlefield was a federal offense.
“Wow! You mean there might actually be artifacts out there still?”
“I guess so” said D. dubiously.
If I find an arrowhead I’m keeping it, I vowed.

The kids wilt immediately.
Its hot.
It sooooo hot
Doesn’t it rain here?
What temperature is it at home right now?

At the visitors center, D. opted for a ranger lead lecture. Nick followed. I herded the girls to the (air conditioned) museum. Maybe looking at the artifacts, reading the stories and seeing the pictures would engage them.
Unfortunately, no.

“Girls, listen to this. Crazy Horse said ‘My lands are where my dead lay buried’
I waited for a response.
“Isn’t that beautiful? Tragic? They took everything from this great warrior but they couldn’t take his spirit” I prompted.
I am greeted with blank looks.
“You see, he was fighting-”
Their eyes glazed over. I gave up and continued on, with the three of them trailing slowly behind me. Eventually they wandered off towards the bookstore. Bresh does find one thing of interest. Its a calendar of Prairie Dogs. Maybe I should have spiced up Custer’s Last Stand with some prairie dog casualties.

Back in the car, D. had us drive the battle route. We stopped at Weir’s point.
“You’re telling me Custer couldn’t see 2000 Teepees from here?”
“He does from here but attacks anyway.”
“I wonder what he was thinking, he had to know he was outnumbered”
“He thought he could take them”
“Wow“ I said, thinking of all those white markers which pockmarked the Last Stand Hill.

“Have we left yet” asked B from the backseat.

No one even complained about the lack of souvenirs.

Montana: Yellowstone + "a canoe trip"

Day one: Montana. Yellowstone National Park.

This happen rather haphazardly. D. wasn’t keen on the whole park idea; We woke up late; The kids discovered Prairies Dogs (ok, they aren’t actually Prairie Dogs) and were busy stalking them with the cameras. But Yellowstone was only a half hour away and you have to see Old Faithful, right?

So it was decided. We’d dash in, see Old Faithful blow and come back. Maybe we’d even get to see Yogi Bear and BooBoo.

We left the “compound” with the four kids (waving goodbye to about 35 “Prairie Dogs”), four cameras, one supply bag, one technology bag and two cell phones. We almost lost Chase when she didn’t listen to instructions to keep the windows UP as we drove down the dirt back roads. Her Lucky hat flipped out the window. Check out the picture, we did eventually let her back in.

I was a bit surprised to discover Old Faithful was about 30 miles into the park. I guess I was thinking this was more like the Zoo. You know, park the car, go through a main entrance, do a quick walking tour, buy souvenirs and get back to the cow pastures and the rodents.

But something happened on the way to see Old Faithful. We came upon a small traffic jam. I tried to nose Sherman around but no luck, both the lanes were blocked.

What are these assholes doing? D. asked, peering ahead.

We quickly discovered what. They were taking pictures of a buffalo. And…. Wow! It was the most amazing buffalo. He was sooo close and soo… mammoth like and sooo majestic, just grazing on the grass. That buffalo changed everything.

From that moment on, it was all four cameras on deck and the kids on high alert.

D. reverted to his most authoritative Navy Lt. voice which became a bit hysterical as the chase went on.

Get ready kids. Are you ready? Get the cameras on. Are they on?! Are they on? Hurry. Hurry your goin’ to miss ittt!!! Give it to me! Give it to me; get Sherman closer, no, CLOSER! Damn. I missed it. Can you turn around?

We leaned out windows, ditched Sherman mid lane, climbed fences, chased wildlife, and plodded through dung heaps and leaped over stone hedges. We saw the geysers, the hot springs, the Paint Pots, the mud volcano and yes, Old Faithful. We gazed at the waterfalls, the mountains, the plains and meadows. We clicked away at coyotes, Buffalo (Oh, sorry, Bison not Buffalo! Just ask Mr. Sheffield!), antelope, Elk and Eagles. It was absolutely breathe takingly spectacular.

We used 12 AA batteries (the digitals ate them at a rapid rate), took well over 200 pictures, spent six hours and made the entire loop around the park.

“Next time, we stay IN the park” vowed D.

We returned to our Prairie Dogs and cow pastures clutching our souvenir bag. Our Take: Four Yellowstone Park shirts, four Yellowstone hats, one pocket knife with Chase’s name, one utility knife, 1 defective “squeeze me” stuffed bear (20% discounted), one bag of “precious gemstones”, one “pooping” bear keychain, one solar powered MOM keychain, one copper bracelet, one pair of copper earrings.

“This did not suck” declared D.

No it did not, I concur.

Day Two: The Dead Moose

Now, I hadn’t canoed in thirty years. D. hadn’t either but he had navigated a Nuclear Cruiser so that had to count for something.

So we rented two canoes, 6 life jackets and two boat pads. We oochied Sherman down the tiniest forestry road, praying no one was coming the other way, to the dock. After excavating a dead scorpion from one of the boats, we divvied up the kids. D. had Nick and B. in an aluminum boat. I had Chase and Ronnie in a green plastic one.

D. led our little expedition out of the inlet into the open glassy lake. It was serenely beautiful. The water was turquoise. The mountains, black and purple with growth, jutted straight up from the rocky shores. The Montana skies beamed down on us. It was idyllic and all ours, not a soul in sight except a lone fisherman far off.

We paddled about a bit, eventually canoed to an island in the middle of the lake and pull the canoes up on to shore. The idea was to swim. However, our canoes disturbed the rocks, and the crayfish living underneath them. At least, I think they were crayfish. You know those lobster-like creatures with little pincers? Well, this was a setback and while D. was able to convince Nick, Chase and B that the crayfish were more scared of us then we were of them, try as we might Ronnie would have none of it.

No way. Absolutely not. One already bit her. Just now, in the water. Right there. On her foot.

The others strip down to their swimsuits and tiptoed into the water. I give up and set Ronnie on a rock. This arrangement lasts a minute when the bees start bothering her.

The BEES! MOM! Here! Right here! One just stung her. On the shoulder or maybe on the life jacket or maybe UNDER the life jacket.
Fine, I say, sit in the canoe. Bees don’t like canoes and they won’t sting you there. Ronnie complied, lower lip puckered out, arms crossed. The other three kids join D. in the deeper water, howling at how cold it is.

Then the flies start bothering Ronnie.

I started to get really annoyed but we are both distracted when B. declares she simply must pee and where the bathroom? To which D. and I point to a large rock and she giggles and crosses her legs and protests too much. And the twins howl for the cameras and declare this is going in THEIR blogs And Ronnie declared she also needs to pee badly, very badly and finally both go behind the rocks and the crayfish are forgotten.

Then, somewhere along the line we notice our voices echoed.

Well, this is too just way to much entertainment for the Family.

Each family member takes a turn yelling. B whoops. Ronnie offers up a pterodactyl scream. Chase yells “You Suck” Nick seconds it. D. shushes everybody, takes a huge breathe and bellows. And I swear, the pine trees bend over by the shear velocity of his projection. The sound comes crashing back on to us to all our utter delight. We collapse onto each other in giggling, self satisfied heap.

And then we hear a disembodied sound

“Who”, says a she- voice, “ is making that racket?”

We are momentarily speechless. A minute later a red canoe rounds the bend of our island and comes into sight.

“Where are you from?” the she voice demanded.

“From Seattle” Offered up a chagrined D.

“Well go back” she states, “you’re scaring the wildlife”.

Then she paddled furiously away.

This did knock the wind out of our city slicker sails. So we gather up all the shoes, and socks, and t-shirts, life vests, kids and oars all the while commenting on Ms. Crab Apple Red and her sucky attitude.

“She sucked,” said Nick.

“Yes she did” said D.

And we paddled to another part of the lake still enthusiastic albeit quieter and were greeted again by the crayfish and their neighbors, the water snakes.

I ask D. if water moccasins are only in Georgia and Nick informs me that Mr. Sheffield says they are in Lake Michigan and so he, Nick, assumed they could be here in Montana too. This declaration doesn’t deter Nick from wanting to catch them. I wondered if the snake could in fact BE poisonous and insisted Nick leave it alone. We decide to move further down the cove.

There, we stretched out on the ground and let the warm sun beat down on us. D. pulled the Yellowstone cap over his face. Nick copied him. Chase laid out in the canoe and I wondered why I didn’t have the foresight to have packed a lunch.

D. says “This sure doesn’t suck”

And I agreed. It doesn’t suck. Yellowstone was sooo yesterday.

Eventually, we decided maybe it is time to head back and D. shoved off with Ronnie and N. in the aluminum canoe. And as I pushed off to the middle of the lake a single cloud passed over my head and blocked out the sun. I looked up and it looked, well, a tad dark and ominous and was that thunder? Wow. I thought. I sure hope it doesn’t rain. A few strokes later I definitely heard thunder and there wasn’t just ONE cloud in the sky. There were many. D. called from the other canoe that he sure hoped it wasn’t thunder because where there is thunder, there is lightening and being in an aluminum boat during a thunderstorm would be bad. Very bad.

Now, it’s important that I write down exactly how the next events unfold because Merinos really enjoy storytelling and this event doesn’t actually need embellishments but will in due course get some.

We knew we weren’t going to make it to the dock before the rain starts but we did make it to the next spit. I pulled up just as D. tried to exits his canoe. The boat tipped over. N. and Ronnie spilled into the water. This is followed by offended shrieks and D- issued commands. N. and Ronnie emerged wet but unharmed. D. followed, his face arranged in his lets-try-and-make-the -best-of-this. He’s not very good at the face. We hauled both the canoes up further up on the ground and crouched under the overgrowth. The thunder clapped. A jagged piece of lightening streaked. The wind whipped about a bit and the rain started in earnest.

Ronnie shivered. B said she was scared. I said, think about Survivorman. He does this all the time. This is fun. THIS is an adventure.

Survivorman led to a discussion about who we’d eat first. B, because she is a vegetarian and thus be saved from having her morals conflicted or D. because he could supply lots of food until we are rescued. But eventually it started raining harder and it was really wet and cold. The boats were drenched, the shoes were drenched, the clothes are drenched; We were reduced to silence. The kids sat glumly on a log. Hunched over, with Nick’s shirt as a hat, Ronnie reached out and plucked a thistle. She handed it to me and told me Survivorman said you can boil this and make nice hot tea and could I boil this thistle? She shivered for effect. I felt badly for her.

“This sucks”, said N.

Chase seconded that.

We all concurred.

About 20 minutes later, there was a lull in the rain. The clouds were still roiling above us but D. said we just needed to make this turn and we could be at the dock in just minutes so let’s MOVE it. Obediently, Chase, Ronnie and I hopped in the canoe and push off. We moved out about 500 feet when I heard shrieks from the shore. They had capsized again, this time dumping everyone and everything into the water. I heard B sobbing and D. cursing a blue streak. I turned the canoe to go back.

“Go! Go! D. yelled "I’ll meet you around the bend".

“Oh God” said Chase “B must be terrified.”

“Keep paddling, honey” I said, gritting my teeth “Daddy has it all under control.” Hmmmm.

A few minutes later Chase said she didn’t recognize anything.

“The dock is just around the bend” I said “Keep paddling” I look back. D. hadn’t left the shore yet.

I don’t remember it being this shallow, Chase complained minutes later. I looked down. It IS shallower then I remembered. And murky. And there was this icky green growth sucking on my oar. The clouds were darker and the wind picked up again. I looked back, D. was far in the distant but coming

“Keep going” I said irritably.

But eventually I had to admit this wasn’t the right way. We stopped and waited for D. to catch up so we could tell him we’d gone the wrong way. Our canoe bumped against the murky bottom. We silently shook the green gunk from our oars. The seepy bogginess settled in.

Then, Chase spots IT, mere inches away.

IT was an enormous skeleton, partially submerged in the water; an elongated toothless skull sticking up from the green gunkiness, it’s rib cage arched out of the water, its spine curved in a perfect semi circle. Four spiny legs, minus hooves, disappeared underneath our canoe.

Ewwwwhh. Icky. Freakish, in fact.

“What is it?” asks Chase, stricken.

“A cow.” I said, trying to keep my voice causal despite the creepy crawlies running up my spine.

“Do we have to stay by IT? Can’t we leave?” pleaded Chase.

“No, No. We can leave, we can leave. Let’s go meet Dad.” I said, sharing her panic.

Back at the dock, Nick said, “Well, canoeing definitely sucked.”

“The canoe capsizing that really sucked” contributed B.

Chase added “Dad, we would have never beat the rain ‘cause you would have taken us the wrong way and we’d be stuck by that dead thing on the water until it was all over. And that would have sucked, big time.”

I concurred.

“The next inlet? The skeleton? Oh, that’s probably the moose the bear got last spring” Said the ranch manager.

Eaten by a bear. Now that WOULD suck.

Tally so far:

11 slug bugs

5 spilled drinks (Chase four, Ronnie 1)

Road kill: Two dead birds, one dead deer, one furry thing, not small enough to be a house cat, one moose

“Mom, you can’t put that moose down as just a carcass! That’s something that will scar me for life!”

Missed opportunities: none

Leaving B-Town

So we leave B-town with ALL four kids and ON TIME! We faced only one minor problem, that of merging on to I-90 in heavy traffic, from the wrong lane and, apparently manned by the wrong driver. Driving Sherman is like driving a rhino. He’s great at charging but requires a football stadium to turn left or right.

At any rate, we point Sherman’s nose due East.

We have plenty of company. On the way we see quite a few “Hoopfeast or Bust” signs on cars just as laden with baggage, kids, fast food wrappers and Starbucks coffee mugs. We stand out because we don’t have a basketball displayed anywhere. I guess this Hoopfeast thing is kinda big.

About an hour and a half in, I spotted a monument on top of a massive hill overlooking the Columbia River. The sign said Wild Horse Monument

I wanted to see it. My idea is greeted rather coolly

“Mom. They’re not moving” says Chase in a stage whisper as we wind up the hill.

“I told you she was smart” I say to D, undeterred.

It was too bad that the plaque which should have told us all about the Wild Horse Monument appear to have been pried off some time ago, and replaced by graffiti. Still, the monument, a herd of horses, overlooked an amazing view of the river.

And then it was back on to I-90, with four kids and 6800 basketball teams. We cruised into Spokane to a beautiful sunset.

We arrived, along with everyone else to downtown Spokane, unloaded 6 backpacks, one computer, one brief case, one suitcase, one beach bag filled with bathroom essentials, two cell phones, one bug pillow and four kids.

We waited in line for the elevators, find our rooms, change into nighties, brush teeth, washing hair, climb into bed and I fall thankfully asleep to Meerkat manor. Sometime later, the kids fall asleep too.

Saturday morning our goal was to be up and on the road to Carol and Dave O’s house for breakfast by 7:30. The O’s are my college friends from University of San Francisco. I call Carol from the lobby at 8. We are moving slowly.

While we wait for Sherman to be pulled around, the courtyard is full of basketball players. Every player, shoes slung over shoulders, water bottles in hand, are warming up, Next to me, the wheelchair team checks their rims, a mother double knots her son’s laces when the National Anthem is broadcasted over the loud speakers, I think from the Spokane City Center (?) maybe one block away.

Everyone stops what they are doing. The young boy in front of me takes off his hat and turns toward the sound. Everyone sings, us, the bellman, the players

Man, I love this country.

We make it to the O’s awesome house set on beautiful acreage just on the outskirts of Spokane proper only slightly late. Dave and Carol look exactly like they did in college-ok, maybe Dave has a few gray hairs but he and Carol has three wonderful children to show for it. And they haven’t changed one bit.

And what a breakfast… scrambled eggs, bacon, muffins, coffee and juice served in their backyard, under the trees.

You know, I said, if you come to my house you’d get a choice of which cereal bar or maybe, if it’s been a good morning, Honey Nut Cheerios with milk.

We leave with homemade banana bread, a huge tub of red vine licorice and three different colored plastic ribbons to make bracelets. I’m looking out for you, Carol said.

As we left B said, Mom I had the greatest adventure and we didn’t even leave their backyard!

To the O family, thanks for the wonderful hospitality. Shelley, I hope your team won, and we’ll see you guys on the slopes!

Let’s put the pedal to the metal said D. We need to make Ennis by 6 pm, Wilderness Edge is another hour after that. We need to buy groceries and get there before 7.

Hmmmmm.

Not even a half hour into the trip, we pass Old Mission, a historic site in Coeur d’Alene. Well, we can’t pass up a mission, so we double back. It’s a beautiful mission established by a Jesuit (of course), built with mud and straw, and eventually supported by hand hewed lumber. The original wall paper was hand painted by the priest. The detail is amazing.

So then its souvenir time and back into the car with one t shirt, two arrowheads, one rosary and four kids.

We really need to push it, said D.

Don’t worry I said. Maybe we won’t see anything interesting between here and there.

And we don’t for quite a while.

Outside of Missoula, Don gets an awful thought. Hey, do we change time zones? This initiates some franticness. He checks his cell phone, no coverage. He checks mine. I have coverage but he doesn’t believe it and spends at least 15 minutes trying to change the time. He can’t. We try the radio. No luck.

We find the answer in Missoula when we stop for lunch. Yes, there is a time change and we just lost an hour. You would think after 10 years in the Navy and the last 2 years as a Navigator he would have figured this out before? Isn’t there a course at the Naval Academy on Voyage Planning?

Damn, D. says. We are really screwed! But we have to eat and so we do a sit down lunch. The waters come and Ronnie curls her tongue and sticks it in her water.

What are you doing? I asked.

I’m a human straw, she says.

Hey, does that really work? asks D. and grabs his water. It does! We all try it. Its good until the water level gets low.

Now I use a spoon, Ronnie explains.

The camera comes out and D. takes many shots of the “human straws”. Ronnie will only pose if she wears his glasses.

But then it’s back to the road and miles and miles of Idaho and Montana, huge mountains, coursing rivers, blue skies and only one police car.

We miss taking pictures of Lolo National Forest (sorry Pam) , Welcome to Idaho and Welcome to Montana. We get a picture of Sherman Avenue and a huge statue in Butte. Our lady of the Mines is perched on top of a bluff overlooking the town. I wouldn’t mind stopping but we are way, way behind.

It’s here in Butte that the kid behavior disintegrates.

It’s all ass-bumping, elbows flying, what can they watch on the video, what can they watch on the computer, whether Roots is appropriate for everyone to watch, whether Nick is the owner over the gum, whether that was truly a VW bug to qualify as a slug bug spotting, who farted, when, where and how much, who has ownership of the remote, who stole the headsets, who broke the headsets, who looked at who wrong, who was bragging.

Are we there yet?

What can I do now?

Mom!

Daaaadddd!

Grrrrrrr.

We follow the signs to Yellowstone National Park. We make it to Ennis, everyone alive but a bit worse for the wear. Its 7:30 we are past the deadline for checking in and we are at least an hour out.

At the grocery store, the register lady tells us she grew up in Sea Tac.

I always tell everyone Bozeman is Bellevue in the 1970’s, she says. Bozeman is the neighboring town to Ennis.

D. takes over driving and we rearrange seating to minimize the brawls. We follow the signs to Wilderness Edge, we off road down a dirt trail. We are greeted by cows, very cool cows that we could reach out and touch, if we weren’t so scared. Sherman plows on and we finally arrive.

It’s a beautiful log cabin above a creek, nestled between the hills, with deer already coming out to graze, and the sun just dipping behind the mountains.

We unload 6 backpacks, 1 essentials bag, 1 suitcase, 1 brief case, 3 computers, 2 cell phones, 1 technology bag, 7 bags of groceries, 4 kids and a half a tub of red vine licorice.

There’s no TV, says Chase, looking around.

There’s no internet. Kill me now, states Nick.

I like it this way, I don’t Need the TV or the computer to have fun, says B, her nose tilted upward, her book clutched in her hand.

Well, isn’t that just precious, retorts Nick.

O boy.

Eventually Nick and Chase figure out they can still play computer games and Bresh and Ronnie discover the sprinklers are on one cabin down and I fix dinner and start a load of laundry. Then, it’s dinner, dinner clean up and setting out clothes for tomorrow.

I throw B and Ronnie in the bathtub. A few minutes later, I hear screams.

There’s a bug on my butt, yells B.

EEEhhhhhh! Screams Ronnie

I hear wet feet hitting the floor as the bathtub is evacuated.

And there is a bug floating in the tub water.

It’s a deer tick and I am not happy.

Did it bite you? I ask

I don’t know.

I mean did you feel it bite you, I clarify.

I don’t know I just scratched my butt and it was there.

Attached? I specify.

What do you mean?

Was your butt under water when you scratched it?

B looked confused.

Never mind, I said

Well, how’d she get it? asked Don

Well she didn’t come from B-town with it, I retorted.

I know that I’m just saying she probably got it here, right now when she was out in the sprinklers.

Oh. Hmmm. That makes sense.

Am I going to die from Lime disease? asks B.

No, says Nick, you’ll just go to sleep for a long, long time.

Mooooommmm!

Tally so far:

2 spilled drinks

7 official slug bug sightings,

2 dead skunks, I dead deer, one unidentifiable creature with wings, quite possibly a vulture.

0 Puking

Bugs 1, Ms 0

Day 1 - little N !!!!!

I guess the trip is ok Chase has not died yet and we are all watching movies. I am watching ROOTS and I know you almost jumped out of your seat and said ROOTS, ROOTS why would he want to watch that? When I was in school my teacher made us watch it and me and my friends made fun of the whole thing. People who did that should know ROOTS is a good movie. But that is not the point right now... the point is that we saw the horse monument it was cool but the best part was the view (look at pictures) it was beautiful. It was like California in Washington state and I thought to have California in Washington state was impossible but it was wonderful plus it was hot not like it usually is in Washington state.

P.S check in next time to read what our trip to Yellowstone Montana will be like.

Day 1

So we finally got underway and surprisingly we were darn close to the schedule – 4:06pm was when I send a text to many of you that are following this trip – actually we left Chase’s school a minute or two before 4pm. Packing went well (but I never found the shorts I was looking for – I will do a post on lost clothing items in the future) no big fights prior to departure –little N was a little whiny but was a trooper helping to get the final items done prior to departure. I have gotten a lot of emails from friends and coworkers after I sent out my final blast – we got a bunch of unexpected responses including one from Taiwan and one from South Africa wishing us well – I leave it to you to determine who wins the prize for farthest distance. Additionally I have received a number of great emails suggesting fun place to stop: Summerfest in Milwaukee and Taste of Chicago as well as Lava Hot Springs Idaho. It already looks like there will need to be a second trip to explore some of the things we will obviously miss this time through

So as we hit the road and the song “Born to be Wild” came on and I knew we were on our way. My initial impression is how brown and rural much of Washington State is – for those of you that never drive east of Ellensburg – there is plenty of sagebrush. Little N kept saying "I can’t believe we are still in Washington" and I was kinda agreeing with him. Where I-90 crossed the Columbia river there is a place called the Wild Horse Monument – we stopped there and took a couple of photos – it was one of those unexpected stops - neat and worth the 5 minutes to stretch and look over the mighty Columbia... I will get some photos up in the next couple of days I'm still working out the bugs.

The List

52 pairs of underwear
5 bathing suits
19 t-shirts
2 pairs of matching short/tank nighties
1 cotton pullover nightie
1 extra long t-shirt nightie
8 tank tops
6 blouses
4 skirts
3 Capri's
10 pairs of shorts
1 pair of church pants with shirt
No dresses
3 pairs of sweat pants
3 swimsuits pullovers
1 pair of fancy pants with matching shirt
5 pairs of running shoes
3 pairs of flip flops
1 pair of boy sandals
1 pair of fancy poolside sandals
1 pair of nicer-than-flip flops- or- sandals shoes
6 sports bras
4 hair brushes ( 2 soft bristle, 2 semi hard bristle)
1 comb
5 toothbrushes
3 types of toothpaste
1 container of floss
3 packages of scrunchies
2 bottle of sunscreen
1 bottle of skin-tastic
2 boxes of bandaides
1 tube ea. of hydrocortizone, neosporin, benadryl
1 facial cleanser
1 flat iron
1 box of caffeine tablets ( generic)
1 large bottle of Ibuprofen
1 box of Dramamine
1 box of Imodium
1 polar heart monitor/calorie burner
Assorted rings, bracelets
2 pairs of sunglasses
2 pairs of reading glasses
2 books
6 ipods, 1 USB connector
3 laptops with chargers
4 cell phones with chargers ( 1 MIA somewhere in the house)
4 digital cameras, 24 aa batteries, 1 extra memory stick
4 math and reading workbooks
2 pairs of boxing gloves, two pairs of wraps, 1 pair of kick boxing shin guards
The Bee Movie, Enchanted, Ratatouille, The Water Horse, Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, The World at War, Roots The Series. Two seasons of West Wing, The Ken Burn's Civil War series, Most of the two seasons of Hustle, Two Wizard of Oz- Sacred Heart production
4 rolls of paper tools
1 box of garbage bags
2 bug pillows

Don packed himself.

O MY GOD!!!!!!

Tomorrow is the cross county trip I am so scared and if you ask me Chase will be the First one to die then B then Miss Kim then Ronni and then me and then after that Sherman will blow and before we get to the Wisconsin Dells and then Big D will go crazy and kill himself and that is what the trip will be like.