What I Learned On My Floridian Summer Vacation

Ahhhh....summer!  Sure school is out for the summer, but that doesn't mean you have to stop learning!  My family recently drove to Orlando for a family vacation. The vacation was fantastic despite the fact that I learned some rather interesting things.

1.  Florida is really far away from Ohio, and you may forget the distance when you see the price of airline tickets. If you live north of Georgia, fly to Florida.

2.  When you ignore the free advice offered in #1, you will drive South and pass several large signs offering fresh peaches, fresh pecans, boiled peanuts, and moonshine pickles. Yes, moonshine pickles.

3.  You will ignore these signs until the curiosity is too much to stand.  Curiosity killed the cat.

4.  Eventually you find yourself at Peach World.  You ask about moonshine pickles, but fascinatingly enough Peach World sold out of moonshine pickles earlier that day. Interestingly, Peach World also sells disarmed fragmentation hand grenades, confederate flags, ninja throwing stars, shark teeth, and coonskin hats. It's a long story that involves children, but you leave Peach World after purchasing peaches, pecans, a truckload of boiled peanuts, and a defunct fragmentation grenade.

5.  Shortly after leaving Peach World, you discover you are the only person in the vehicle who likes boiled peanuts. Good thing you bought 40 pounds of boiled peanuts.

6.  For reasons that are truly inexplicable, you will feel obligated to eat as many boiled peanuts as is humanly possible. Perhaps it's the endless freeway.  Perhaps it's the bickering children.  Whatever the reason, you will devote a solid hour of your travel time in trying to eat all of the boiled peanuts.

7.  After singlehandedly eating an obscene amount of boiled peanuts, you realize you don't actually like boiled peanuts.  You can't figure out why you thought you did and have only one place to lay blame. Interstate 95.

8.  Interstate 95 is a horrible, no good, very bad interstate. The speed limit varies from 70 miles an hour to 60 miles an hour to 45 miles an hour near some construction zones, but this is all irrelevant. Drivers on I-95 either travel at the speed of light OR they drive 25 miles an hour in the fast lane.

9.  Thanks to the salty boiled peanuts, your fingers will begin to swell and your tongue will feel weird.  This will remind you the cost of airline tickets is worth every penny. Please re-read #1 above.

10.  You will arrive at your destination in Florida, and you will discover that Florida is hotter than you ever truly imagined.  You will begin sweating in places that you didn't even realize had pores.

11.  You will spend a grotesque amount of money at any number of amusement parks.

12.  Dolphins, killer whales, penguins, sharks, sting rays, pink flamingos, sea lions, otters, and sea turtles are all ubercool, but they are no match for the common brown squirrel that will have your children riveted in their spot.

13.  Inevitably all the children within a ten foot radius will watch this squirrel as if they have never seen one. You can't swear to it, and maybe it's the Florida heat playing games with you, but you'll be fairly certain the squirrel will give you a look that says, "Think how much time and money you could have saved had you just vacationed in your backyard where about 150 of my relatives live."

When all is said and done, you are building wonderful memories for your kids.

And that fragmentation grenade?  Worth it's weight in gold!  On the way home your kids will believe you just might detonate that sucker if they don't stop annoying the be-geezers out of each other!

Beach Etiquette 101

Ok, people, it's the time of year when we need to review our beach etiquette.

Raise your hand if you've ever been to a beach and seen annoying behaviors?  Who hasn't, right?  This is my public service announcement as zillions of us load up our minivans and head towards the seemingly endless sea.

I've been paying attention to my fellow beach-goers, and I'm going to list some of the more egregious beach behavior I've seen in recent summers.

10.  You know that feeling you get when you are just nestling into your seat in a nearly empty moving theatre and some dipstick comes and sits in the seat right in front of you? "You have the entire dang theatre and you're going to sit on top of me?"  Same obnoxiousness exists on beaches up and down the coast. Miles and miles and miles of sandy beaches. Must you really put up your beach umbrella right in front of my beach chair?  Sure, I'm nearly passed out, but when I come to I would like to catch a glimpse of the water.

9.  I'm sure you're a lovely family, but I'd rather not know the names of all of your children as a result of you bellowing their names every 7 minutes. I'm going out on a limb here, but repeatedly yelling "Johnny, stop throwing sand at Emily," from 50 yards away is having no effect on Jonny. I, on the other hand, am thinking about how much enjoyment I would have throwing sand on you.

8.  Speaking of throwing stuff, everyone loves to throw a football on the beach. Sure, you're not in the NFL so you're prone to miss nearly all a few catches. When your ball hits me for the third time within five minutes, move away from me. I am thinking evil thoughts about what I'm going to do with the ball the 4th time it hits me.

7.  Shake out your towel in a location other than your neighbor's face.  You were just giving Johnny grief about throwing sand and then you stand up and shake sand directly into my face? Hello?  I'm about ready to get all public beach in your face. My airbrush tattoo may be 100% fake, but with just enough alcohol and this tattoo of a flamingo on my shoulder, I'm feeling kind of bad ass.

6.  Everyone pees in the ocean.  I get that. To the lady in North Myrtle Beach who, on at least two occasions, walked with her Budweiser can into inches of ocean water and blatantly squatted down to pee, I just want to say, "Really?  Squatting?  In inches of water? With your beer can?  That 7 foot walk to the ocean urinal really left you so parched you couldn't ditch the can for a moment and have the decency to at least get waist high in the water before emptying your bladder?"  For those of us debating about whether or not we want to go for a dip, please act like you're NOT peeing.

5.  Don't walk on the dunes. Seriously.

4.  Litter, and my children will totally call you out. At a volume that suggests the beach is on fire they will shriek, "Mom, that fat guy just littered!" Yeah, I'm trying to get them to find other ways of describing people, but since you're a litterer I'm letting the fat comment go.

3.  Nicotine is addicting, but I'm going to argue so is the smell of ocean breezes. If I can smell your addiction, it means I can't smell mine. If I wanted your second hand smoke, I would ask for it. Please go smoke somewhere else...or do your lungs a favor and quit.

2.  I love to fish! I see you love to fish, too.   See those kids on boogie boards? They are my kids, and you've decided to fish right next to them. You can either move to a safer fishing area or risk becoming bait. Seriously, don't fish near swimmers!

1.  See those seagulls you just fed? Amazing how it started as just two seagulls and within moments it now looks like a scene from Hitchcock's "The Birds."  Funny how two seagulls look enchanting and 50 seagulls looks like a gang of rats with wings. Please don't feed seagulls near my towel. It causes me to shriek and run, and I DO NOT WANT TO RUN IN MY SWIMSUIT.

Enjoy the beach and enjoy your summer!!

Are We There Yet?

Long road trips are a time for family members to reflect on just how much they hate long family road trips.

I could go on and on and on about our recent long road trip, but I'm willing to bet it's remarkably similar to every other family's long road trip.

Here is one sentence summing up our recent road trip:
A 10 hour road trip morphs into an ugly 12 hour adventure due to traffic, mother nature, emergency pee breaks, and one vomiting son.

Who can't relate to that, right?  Just your typical 12 hour journey to hell and back.  Woohoo! Are we there yet? Nope, only 11 more hours to go!

After miraculously surviving that experience, I prepared for my post road trip pity party.  You know what that includes, right?

You arrive home from the long road trip and immediately begin drowning in dirty laundry and unopened mail, while trying to figure out where that strange smell is coming from...What IS that smell?

Just prior to that fun experience, my sister helped me put it all in perspective.

She has three children between the ages of 2 and 7.  In addition to traffic and thunderstorms, I know her trip included emergency pee breaks, unstoppable "Are we there yet?" whining, and crying (most likely from her husband).

Upon arriving home to an obscene smell and 13 pounds of junk mail, I texted her to see if she had arrived home safely.

Here is our text message exchange:

Me:  You home yet?

Sis:  We left at 3:40 AM.  Only 4 more hours.  Got stuck in McDonalds because Ellery's fairies wouldn't come out of the bathroom.

Me:  Huh?

Sis:  Ellery's fairies wouldn't come out of bathroom stall. This is a true story!

Me:  That's hilarious!

Sis:  Yeah.  Freaking hysterical.

Sis:  Line full of peeps waiting to pee and I have a sobbing 4 year old talking about her missing fairies.  Someday this will be funny, right?

Me:  I assume the fairies finally cooperated?

Sis:  Only after I made a big deal about seeing glittery flutters on her palm.  We looked certifiable.

So, dear readers, until you find yourself hours from home in a tiny stall with a sobbing four year old who refuses to leave without her fairies, consider your road trip a complete breeze!

At least right up until you realize what's causing that smell.  Then all bets are off as you realize traffic and a vomiting son is nothing compared to the cause of that smell.

Olympic Gold

I got Olympic gold. 
In fact I got several of them.  It was as easy as ordering a drink at a bar.  Mostly because my "Olympic Gold" is a drink at a bar.

Olympic fever is in the air.  Blessedly, that includes the beach bar at the resort where we stay during our summer vacation. Thus the "Olympic Gold" drink special.

Let's face it, if it weren't for the drink special, I would never get Olympic Gold.

For starters, I do not have the Olympic spirit.  As I watch an obscene amount of Olympics, I see cyclists crash their bikes, get back on, and continue racing.  I see swimmers swim and win a relay in the qualifying heat only to be excluded from swimming in the finals.  I see a footless man run a race, and I learn about countless athletes overcoming amazing stories of adversity in pursuit of Olympic gold.

On the flip side of the Olympic athlete is me.  I am a total sissy. 

If my bike crashed, I would curl up in the fetal position and cry like a baby.  I lack the Olympic spirit.  Completely. 

I also lack athleticism which is also apparently key to achieving true Olympic gold.

Excuse me, I need to take another swig of my Olympic Gold.

Mmmm.  Now where was I?

Perhaps I'm not an Olympic athlete because my mother didn't push me enough. 

While Olympians spent their childhoods perfecting their skills, my mother allowed me to sit outside and play in the dirt.  Yes, I am going to blame my mother for giving me a fun-filled childhood.  Mom, thanks a lot! 

Instead of trying to get my face on a box of Wheaties, my biggest challenge as a child was trying to hide as much junk as possible under my bed in an effort to make my room look clean.  This is no easy task and I suggest it becomes an Olympic sport.

In fact, there is an activity I want added as an Olympic event.

I would definitely make it to the Olympic trials if not go all the way to the gold.  After giving this an incredible amount of thought while sipping on my Olympic gold, I would like to recommend the following as the next Olympic sport:

Sock matching. 

That's right, people.  I could totally be a contender for gold if sock matching would ever get the respect it deserves.

I do the laundry for four people.  This means there are, at this very moment, 6,273 individual socks in my house.  I can match 6,272 within 5 minutes.  I hold on to the last sock indefinitely because I just know the second I throw it away its beloved match will be found.

Alas, there are not many 39-ish year old Olympians.  For this reason, if I want to experience Olympic greatness up close, my kids are going to have to bring home the gold.  I would like to propose the following activities be future Olympic "sports." This will up the odds of those two unambitious children being able to bring mommy home a gold:

-  Nose picking.  Gross, yes, but it's a talent.  You've got to lack all shame and be totally  committed to really digging deep.  I've got a child up to that challenge.

-  Lego scattering.  Please don't confuse this with actually building a Lego structure.  I'm talking about the ability to take a set of small Lego pieces and as quickly as possible scatter them throughout an area.  For the sake of argument, let's say the area is a house.  A bronze medalist may be able to scatter Legos to 2-3 rooms within a 20 second period, but a true champion can scatter Legos to all four corners of the house and leave a couple in the bathtub just for good measure. 

Yeah, I'm really proud of my Olympic hopefuls.

Now, please excuse me.  I'm about to get another Olympic Gold.

The Olympic "Spirit"

The Olympics inspire hope, increase patriotism, showcase incredible talent, and remind me of how absolutely un-Olympian I am.

Perhaps it's the fact that I'm breathless after carrying loads of laundry up a flight of stairs.  Maybe it's the fact that when I chase my children, they never get caught.  Or maybe it's the realization that my definition of "swimming" includes a raft and a cocktail. The sad fact is, the Olympics puts my athletic ineptness into sharper focus.

As if that's not sad enough for me, now the Olympics is calling my libido into question, too.  Why does it always come back to sex?

Read this and you'll understand what I mean:  Will You Still Medal in the Morning?

Ok, I cannot lie. I am a little surprised.
I'm not surprised that gorgeous, young, physically fit athletes are having sex in the Olympic Village.  Nah, that's not surprising.  Have you seen these olympians? Sex between consenting, athletic, beautiful people happens all the time in my imagination, in the Olympic Village, and in works of fiction.

This is what surprises me: "At the 2000 Sydney Games, 70,000 condoms wasn't enough, prompting a second order of 20,000 and a new standing order of 100,000 condoms per Olympics."

Only 100,000 condoms?
Yeah, that's right.  Olympic Village needs more condoms.

Do the math.

There are more than 10,000 athletes at the London Olympics.
The Olympics last 16 days.
That's 10 condoms per athlete with less less than 1 condom per day per athlete.

Maybe I've been watching men's swimming and diving events too long, but I think they better order more condoms.  Any sexually frustrated housewife can tell you, the men's swim teams need their own supply of condoms.  Just one look at those wet, buff bodies and you will agree I need to stop watching every men's swim event.  I wish I could say I'm just showing my patriotism, but I didn't see a single skeet competition.  Not one.

Seriously, have you seen them swim?  Strong, hard bodies swimmers.  Seriously, I need to watch other events.  Somehow I don't think it should be men's gymnastics or men's track.

Ironically enough, I'm writing this while my husband watches woman's volleyball.

Sigh.

I am no Olympian.  A statement that shocks no one, I know.

2012 Olympic's Opening Ceremony

Good luck, London!

All eyes will be on you. I also think most brains behind those eyes will be thinking, "It's a tough act to follow."

Who doesn't remember the Opening Ceremony at the 2008 Beijing Olympics?
The performance cost an estimated $100 million dollars to produce and lasted four hours. An astounding 15,000 "volunteers" performed in the Beijing Opening Ceremony. The ceremony was amazingly stunning. I'm amazed by it still, and it was 4 years ago. This from someone who can't remember what she did yesterday and sometimes gets in her car and forgets where she is going. The performance was unforgettable eye candy.

How in the world do you follow that act?
Poor London.

I'm reminded of children's mind numbing talent shows. Twenty minutes into the talent show a beautifully dressed 5 year old child approaches a piano and plays the most amazing Mozart piece. All performers prior to the pianist are immediately forgotten as the prodigy plays flawlessly. Immediately afterward, my own child a child in a stained t-shirt walks on stage with a tin can and a wooden spoon. The audience smiles politely as the child bangs on the can. Suddenly that average tin can performance sounds like nails on chalkboard having had the grave misfortune of following China the brilliant pianist.

I'm not saying London is going to offer us a tin can and wooden spoon performance (You aren't, are you, London?). I just think London has a really tough act to follow. But who doesn't love an underdog?

Of course, the Opening Ceremony isn't just a glorified talent show with fireworks and drama. No, it's much more than that.

It's about reminding Americans how absolutely stupid we are about geography.
Since the countries are introduced in alphabetical order, the U.S.A fans must stay glued to televisions until nearly the end. In the process, we learn there are countries we've never heard of before. Countries like Swaziland, Timor Leste, and Mauritania (Is it just me, or does Mauritania sound like an umbrella drink with a dash of Mary Jane?). Not only are there countries we couldn't find if given a world map, there are also people who actually live in those countries including Olympians. How about that?!

Yes, Americans can learn a lot during the Opening Ceremony as we wait anxiously to see our Team U.S.A approach in their outsourced uniforms made in China. (What were you thinking, Ralph Lauren?)

Geez, China gets a gold medal in Opening Ceremonies and uniform making, AND the Olympics haven't even started!

Good luck, London. We are rooting for your success!

Achieving World Peace

Every once in a great while I have an epiphany. Something that was once confusing and complicated is revealed to me clearly and simply.

Not to brag, but the other day I had an epiphany. A pretty significant one.

Yeah, I realized how to achieve world peace.

I'm sure this is valuable information, and I'm probably stupid and naive for sharing it so broadly. I should probably call Homeland Security, the CIA, or whoever is responsible for finding the way to create world peace. I mean, really, I probably will get the Nobel Peace prize for this one. It is that significant. Consider yourself lucky to hear it from me first.

Ok. Here goes...

The key to world peace is to equip everyone with a high quality air conditioner.

There is conflict in the Middle East because they are HOT.
Hot, hot, hot.

Heat makes people rabid in their irritability. I know this first hand because my loving family of four recently spent 9 days without electricity. We were loving to one another one minute, and in the next minute, it was scary ugly. We were unarmed so no one actually died. I can only imagine the destruction that armed hot people can create.

While we are equipping everyone with air conditioners, I think we should also give every family and organized terrorist organization a dishwasher. When you are hot it is one thing, but when you are hot and surrounded by dirty dishes, it's enough to make you want to go fight with the first person you see. In my case that's my husband, but it could just as easily be Afghanistan.

Do you see the brilliance behind my plan?
Cool the world off. Coolness = peace.

In fact, I'm fairly certain PEACE is an acronym for:

P. Provide
E. Everyone with
A. Air
C. Conditioning;
E. Eliminate war

Wonder where I should keep my Nobel Peace Prize?

Perhaps next to my Pulitzer.

Surviving Heat Wave without Electricity

After surviving 9 days without electricity, I consider myself an expert on a few matters. I feel obligated to share them. Should you find yourself in hell without electricity for an extended period of time, you might just be grateful for these pearls of wisdom.

Your power will only go off for an extended period of time if it's going to be over 100 degrees or below 15 degrees. This is just a simple fact. My experience with hell power outage was during a heat wave so I'll focus on that. Given my luck, I'll blog about power outage during a deep freeze in mid January.

Although the electricity is the first to go, it will be followed shortly thereafter by your sense of humor. Do not waste your time trying to regain your sense of humor. It will return exactly 24 hours after the electricity. Your patience may never return as it has literally melted into oblivion.

You will have frequent thoughts about digging shallow graves in your backyard. Resist the urge to do so. It's just sweaty work for you, and your house is messy enough without you bringing in dirt and mud.

Once upon a time you loved your partner and your children. It's ok to look up the phone numbers of divorce attorneys, but refrain from calling. Trust me, "Power Outage" and "Heat" cannot be listed as reasons for divorce.

Give up all attempts to keep your house clean. The rest of your family will only sabotage your efforts and make you want to dig in the back yard. Instead, find the coolest place in your house and sit. Don't move for risk of sweating.

Do not, under any circumstances, sit on any leather or faux leather furniture during the inevitable heat wave. You will stick to it and the puddle of sweat may cause stains.

Speaking of puddles, when you wake up in a pool of your own sweat, do not panic. You are not dying. You are just really hot. Rehydrate by drinking lots of alcohol fluids.

When there appears to be more bugs inside your house than outside of it, try not to be alarmed. Tell yourself this is just like camping. When your Self reminds you how much you hate camping, take a moment to randomly scream "Camping sucks!" at the first person who wanders by you.

Buy a generator. Being able to open the refrigerator and feel the cold air is worth the cost. Don't keep the generator in your garage or near an open window. The fumes are toxic. Then again...

When the power eventually comes back on, walk around your house turning on every light and electronic device you have. Bask in the glow of electricity and gain greater appreciation for the concept of "survival of the fittest."

Know, with absolute certainty, that had you been born prior to the invention of electricity and indoor plumbing, you wouldn't have survived past adolescence.

Sociology Experiment Gone Bad

The lack of electricity coupled with the heat makes me think we may be part of some secret sociology experiment. What happens when you take a typical middle class family and deprive them of electricity?

Here's what happens:

Days 1 & 2:
Family plays games together. They show each other love and respect. They give thanks for the things they do have... like family.

Day 3:

Family cleans out refrigerator and freezer. Large amounts of food are thrown away. Children remain cheerful as their mother forces them to eat 48 mini cream puffs that are thawing in the freezer. Cracks begin to show in the parents' cheerful attitudes. To compensate, they attempt to drink a bucket of frozen margarita that is thawing in the freezer. Everyone goes to bed sweaty, but drunk full.

Day 4:

Husband arrives at hardware store before 7 AM because store is getting a new shipment of generators. He spends all eternity waiting for the shipment to be unloaded from the truck and then spends the kids' college savings on a generator that will run the refrigerator, one lamp, and a fan.

Wife washes dishes by hand after heating water on the gas stove top. Because she is mentally a blond, she forgets boiling water is hot and nearly burns all ten fingers in an attempt to clean a pile of dirty dishes.

Tween unearths every battery operated toy she has ever been given. The battery operated microphone is the worst gift to ever give a child. She is so enchanted by new found toy that she loudly sings an unapproved version of our national anthem. It goes a little like this: "Oh say can you see...by the Don sir's delight..."

Son is scared of the dark so after dusk, he acts like a tick and attaches himself to the family member closest to him. He uses every glow stick and flashlight as a sword.

Husband attempts to hook-up the generator while excited children run around him singing and poking each other with glow sticks. He yells obscenities at the generator which the children will no doubt repeat in Sunday school.

In an effort to allow hubby to focus on hooking-up the generator, his supportive wife threatens the children with, "If you ever want to drink cold milk again, you'll leave your father alone!"

After threatening the children, she realizes she cannot find her glass of red wine. It's dark and she is thirsty damn it. Upon finally locating the glass, she drops it and listens (because it is too dark to actually see any of this happening) as it shatters into 65,000 tiny pieces. This is when she realizes how good a cold beer would taste.

Children race through the house in an effort to annoy each other. Their mother tells them to stop running because they might hurt themselves. At that moment the once sane woman steps on a shard of glass. Her son continues running, but her devoted tween assists in locating additional flashlights, tweezers, band aids, and, of course, the microphone.

Finally, the glass is swept up, a shard of glass is removed from the frenzied woman's heel, and more wine is poured. Husband enters and requests help moving the refrigerator so it can be hooked-up to the generator. Although it is pitch black, the couple cannot help but notice the yeti who has been living behind the refrigerator. Its large enough that they both think he may have assisted in pushing the refrigerator out. The couple is so grateful, they release him into the wild.

At last, the children fall asleep in the cool basement, the generator hums in the driveway, and the yeti runs free. Family survives another day without creature
comforts.

Day 5

The family huddles around the one oscillating fan as they plan their day. It may involve breaking and entering, but no one voices any moral objections. After all, prisons are typically air conditioned so that would be a step in the right direction. Friends are out of town and their house sits empty. The house has electricity. The house is air conditioned. The increasingly irritable family of four have a key to said house.

Operation Goldilocks is planned. The family will ask their sweaty, dirty clothes to walk themselves into the hamper. Family will take between 2 and 20 loads of laundry to friends' home. They will clean their clothes, shower, watch a movie and try to repair their damaged relationships in the coolness of the abandoned house.

This works wonders! For several glorious hours the family feels love and affection towards one another again. This feeling of love lasts right up until the blast of hot air hits them upon returning home. Easy come; easy go.

Day 6

Happy Fourth of July!
Family nearly forgets it's a holiday. Independence Day only reminds them of their total dependence on things like....ELECTRICITY!

They celebrate our Nation's birthday by sweating, taking cold showers, and sweating some more. No way is the family going to light any fireworks. Between the heat and their streak of bad luck, both parents are convinced fireworks could potentially burn down the entire neighborhood.

In an effort to lift everyone's spirits, they drive around in their air conditioned van. Suddenly living out of the van doesn't sound so bad. They talk about whether or not an air mattress could fit in the back with a mini fridge.

On the way back to their hot house, they convince their sweaty children that the lightening in the distance is actually fireworks. They would worry about going to hell for that, but alas, they are already there.

When will this little experiment end?
It is going to end, right?

The Essentials

Dear Family and Friends,

Last week Mother Nature went ape shit threw a temper tantrum of epic proportion.

She threw trees, branches, patio furniture, and then cried like she has never cried before. Making matters worse, like any toddler would, she decided to throw this fit just as our babysitter arrived. Hubby and I had been planning date night.

As my family stood in our dining room with our babysitter, we watched Mother Nature knock down a 30 foot tall tree and fling it towards our house. At that moment our power went off, and I ordered all of us to the basement.

An hour later, Mother Nature was in time out and the babysitter was sent home. The rest of us sat in the dark looking at one another. We became remarkably loving towards one another and patient. Near death experiences can do that to a family.

The next day we did what everyone else in our county decided to do. We went to the grocery store to buy "essentials." Power was out and we were being told it could be 5-7 days before it would be restored. This news is code for "go shopping."

Here's the great thing about "essentials": it's all in the eye of the beholder.
Since there were a mere 7200 people crammed into our local grocery store, I had plenty of time to look in other people's carts to see what they felt they needed in the coming days.

My favorite cart was pushed by a young man who clearly lived simply. His cart had 2 wine boxes and chips. Another woman had a cart loaded with grilling supplies, dog food and corn. I saw several carts full of practical things like water, bread, and peanut butter.

I was fascinated by all the varieties of cart content until I took a moment to look into my own cart. It was unquestionably the most bizarre. I had (and I really don't know why I'm compelled to share this) 2 cases of bottled water, 1 box of brown rice, 2 cans of black beans, 24 rolls of toilet paper, 2 rolls of paper towels, and toilet bowl cleaner.

Apparently, I was worried about dehydration and exploding bowels.

We all have our hang-ups, I suppose.

I hope the rest of you are fairing well.

Waiting for the Electricity Fairy to visit us as we enjoy our beans and rice comforted by the knowledge that we will have clean butts and toilets,

Jen
Days 1 & 2 of no electricity

Camp Grandma

School's out, school's out, teacher let the fools out!

Now the fools' parents need to find some way to entertain the fools during the long summer months. In our house that means signing both fools children up for one summer camp after another.

Our kids attend a variety of summer camps, but all of them pale in comparison to the annual week-long overnight camp at grandma's house. Yes, Camp Grandma is the highlight of the summer for everyone except, perhaps, grandma.

A week before camp, the questions start.
"Are you leaving us at Grandma's? "
"You're not staying with us, right?"
"We get to stay at grandma's all week!?"

Clearly, we are a total buzz kill. Our kids want us out of their hair for a week.

Of course, secretly, hubby and I are ticking off the days until Camp Grandma like prisoners counting days until release. As we pull our minivan out of grandma's driveway, we try to keep our hooting, yelping, and cries of joy from reaching our children's precious ears.

"Ohhhh, sweet freedom!" we yell as we drive away like bats out of hell.
We are eager to flee before Grandma comes to her senses and decides this whole "Camp Grandma" gig is overrated.

Camp Grandma is a week filled with parenting indiscretions.
Frankly, I'm amazed Camp Grandma is run by the same lady who raised me.

At Camp Grandma there is actually a cookie jar filled with...get this...cookies!
Kids can eat from the cookie jar without...believe it or not...being scolded!
Kids don't have to eat everything on their plates because....are you ready for this? ...maybe they aren't hungry!
Kids can play more video games because...I can't believe this one...they want to!

Children eat pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Days are filled with trips to the zoo, toy store, drive-in theatre, waterpark, and random festivals. Root beer floats are served nightly and the television is on non-stop. Or so our children say.

Grandma is adamant her grandchildren are lying, little heathens who do not get everything they want during their 7 days at Camp I can't believe this is my mother! Grandma.

I'm really not sure who is lying about the shenanigans that go on at Camp Grandma.
All I know is when I pick up my precious, sugar-filled angles at the end of the week, and ask them to do something, anything, their glazed over eyes look at me like I've lost my mind.

"Grandma doesn't make us do that," they say in unison.

Well, kids, welcome back to reality.

River Truths

This past weekend my family got an offer we could not refuse.
We were invited by friends to spend the day frolicking on the Ohio River.

To protect my friends' identities I am going to choose totally fictitious names for them. I've completely made these names up, and my friends can try to figure out who is who because I am never going to tell.

Kristen Wiig, Amy Poehler, Claire Dunphy and I had a fabulous afternoon. I even met a new friend who I'll call Mia Rudolph.

There are some universal truths about river life. Although I am no expert, and I absolutely MUST research this more, I believe I have unearthed some of these truths.

Again, these are river truths. If you've never spent the day out on the river, you'll just need to take my word for it:

• Life on the river is in a unique time zone. Time stands still, and then suddenly an entire afternoon disappears in a blink. Strange, right?

• Everyone pees in the river.  Everyone.  Some people are just more brazen than others.                 Kristine Wiig will squat in knee deep water and talk with you while obviously peeing in the river.

• There are really smart fish in the river. The fish stay away from those who are fishing but stay close to those who are floating. You can't always see them, but they are there. Just ask Claire.

• Other people enjoy spending time with your children and you enjoy spending time with other people's children. I considered swimming off with Amy Poehler's baby. That baby is just too darn cute!

• Tubing should be an Olympic sport. My friends and I would definitely bring home the gold! The gold goes to Claire, Mia, Kristen and me for our flawless tubing performance.

• Tubing will leave rug-burns on your elbows and any other bodily surface that is repeatedly thrown and tossed around on a tube. Gold medals come at a price!

• Naming your raft is not required but recommended. Our raft, in the words of Kristen Wiig, is the Moms I'd Like to Friend (MILF) raft.

• Children can eat whatever they want.  In other words, 6 handfuls of chips + 2 pieces of cake = dinner.

• Grown-ups can eat whatever they want.  In other words, beer + beer + beer = dinner

• A bratwurst hot tub is a gourmet delicacy. Amy Poehler showed her cooking brilliancy with that one!

• The river life promotes sharing. Mia, Kristen, and Amy seemingly share everything like boats, cottages, campers, food and beverages. They are just so generous they share it all (except husbands, of course. One of those is enough for any woman. Who needs 2?) This makes me think I may just need to move my van down by the river. I could hang with my friends while living out of my van. Do you think they would notice?

All of this to say, the river life rocks!
What a wonderful way to spend an afternoon!

I AM HOT

I am hot.
Not in a supermodel sort of way.
I am hot in a fry an egg on my face sort of way.

Yes, of course our air conditioner breaks on the hottest weekend. Of course.

Here is what I now know about heat. Heat makes you do stupid things.

I was so hot I went grocery shopping for 2.5 hours. I hung out in the meat section just to be cool.

Ahhhh, the relief a large rack of frozen ribs can bring a women who is nearing heat stroke hotness. Yes, I got some strange looks while clutching the frozen rack of ribs to my breast, but screw 'em. It is H.O.T., people!

I also got similar "What the heck is wrong with that lady" glances in the dairy section when I nearly crawled into the refrigerator unit with the milk cartons. Fortunately, no one was around when I walked the length of the frozen food section with a package of frozen peas balanced on the back of my neck.

Don't judge me when I am hot and doing everything in my power not to return to my own home.

Upon arriving home, my husband proudly announced it was only 88 degrees inside our house. I believe I responded with words that would be bleeped out if this blog were televised.

Did I mention I'm hot?

When I'm hot, people are really annoying. Especially children who are seemingly oblivious to the heat. They actually want to do things. They want and expect me to do things that require moving. Don't they know how hot it is? Moving only makes it worse. Moving it bad.

The only cure for heat is to sit nearly naked in cold water while drinking plenty of fluids. And by "fluids" I mean alcohol. Duh. I'm fairly certain my sweat glands are on overdrive even while submerged in cold water.

The only plus I see in any of this is I am fairly certain I've lost a few pounds.
Sure, it's 2-3 pounds of sweat, but I'll take it. Yes, I'll take it.

Now I've got to go. I am headed back to the grocery store to spend some quality time with that rack of ribs.