Our Beach Vacation

We spent the whole last week on vacation at Panama City Beach, FL.  I'd like to say that it was the most fun, relaxing time ever.  I'd like to. I'd like to say I spent the week with my toes in the water, my butt in the sand and a cold drink in my hand.  Well, some of the week I did.  But, more accurately, we spent a week chasing our flyaway beach umbrella, buckets and hats down the beach.  We spent a week dodging thunderstorms every morning and every evening.  We spent a week waiting on a slow elevator to the 17th floor condo.  We spent a week begging the Universe to take away the double red flags on the beach.

It was our first beach trip since the twins were born; actually, our first trip since Big Sis was about 16 months old.  We were all excited and ready to get there for sure.

 

Now, I will share with you What I Learned on My Summer Vacation--

 

 

THANK GOD for my mother.  Even with the 3:3 adult to kid ratio, we were still barely able to manage.  After having mom's help for a whole week, I've decided that our life would be easier with another wife.  I will be taking applications for a sister wife ASAP.

 

Tiny butt cracks can hold a lot of sand.  Actually, so can bigger butts.

 

There was absolutely no reason for me to pack two magazines in my suitcase.  Reading on the beach? Ha! They never saw the light of day.

 

Um, yeah. That time I said I wanted to skip the sunscreen on the front of my legs so I could "get some sun".....it worked.

 

Driving through the night is the Best. Idea. Ever.  The kids did great on the way there because they slept most of the way.  Not so much on the way home, driving in the daytime.

Going on a 16-hour road trip provided many opportunities for geography lessons.  For example, answering the question "Are we still in Florida?" about 50 times in the first hour of our trip home.  

It took getting caught out in the brewing storm one time for Big Sis to develop an intense fear of storms.  Everyone on the beach heard her frantically wailing, "Hurry and get inside!" over and over and over.  In the elevator and up all 17 floors of the condo.  Geez.

 

Lesson learned: the next time I see an unopened packet of ketchup lying beside the curb, I will not point out that packet to Big Sis.  I don't particularly like having ketchup splattered on my face and in my hair.  No more stomping ketchup packets!

* more photos and fun stuff to follow...stay tuned.

Twin Tuesday

This week's Twin Tuesday goodness is brought to you by Girl Twin.  Twice in one week, she's had us laughing our heads off.  This girl.  I tell ya, she's a mess.

 

The other morning I was getting the kids ready for daycare.  It's always a frantic time, and this was no different.  Boy Twin was eating a waffle and apparently laid it in the floor when he came into the bathroom to get his hair brushed.  When he went back to get it, it was gone and he was crying.

 

Me:  Fergie!  Did you eat that waffle???  This, as the dog is walking out of the room with her guilty face on and her head hanging low.

 

Girl:  Fergie can't talk.  Only kitty cats can talk. (well, duh)

 

Me:  What do cats say?

 

Girl:  Meow!

 

 

Over the July 4th weekend, Girl Twin ran through the yard barefoot and bloodied her pinkie toe.  After a band-aid and much fuss, we got it to quit bleeding.  Then we realized the toenail wasn't going to survive.  Now, a week later she lost it.

 

We were spending the weekend at Grammy's when it happened.  I took her into the bathroom for yet another band-aid.  As I'm getting it on, she very seriously asked me if the tooth fairy was going to come get her toenail.  I said no.  Then she dropped it on the carpet and we never found it.  Have fun with that, Grammy!

Call it Stubborn, Independent or Whatever You Want...

Today is picture day at daycare.  The staff requested that all the children wear denim and white---jeans, skirts, overalls, whatever.  I guess they are going with a Western theme.  They told the parents this approximately 16 hours prior to photos, which I'm a little put out by, but that's for another story.

 

Today, this is about our children.  Our stubborn, hard-headed, independent, do-it-myself kids.  I've waited years for these kids to be able to dress themselves and lighten my load a little, so you'd think there's really  nothing to complain about here.  But the thing is, we are in that stage where they want to choose what to wear (no matter the practicality or comfort level) and they want to dress themselves (and put shoes on the wrong foot).

 

So, I put together some clothes this morning and they weren't having it.  So for western day, my kids wore rain boots and nothing denim.  Yee haw!  And you know what?  I don't really care.  It's exhausting to fight about it when it doesn't really even matter.  The photographer will slap a toy cowboy hat and bandanna on them, and they will look ridiculous, and it still won't matter.  I'm not going to buy the damn pictures anyway because the school insists on taking photos every 3 months and it totally irritates me.  Why is this necessary?

 

Today's drama also got me thinking about a text conversation I had with a good childhood friend a few months back. I saved the text because I knew it would somehow end up on this blog.  It's a gem.  She's got a daughter who is the same age as Big Sis, so we often compare notes on phases, attitude, kindergarten and general 6-year-old smartassedness.  That is a word, no?  Here's the basic convo:

So, why am I sharing this?  Because it makes me feel better.  Because I  know that other moms are having the same issues with their stubborn, independent children, too.  It's OK to laugh, because this was funny.  But it's also OK to shake your head and say "yep," because you've been there.  And you get it.  No matter how much we think we are teaching our kids, or helping our kids or whatever.  The bottom line is they will still occasionally leave the house without underwear on.  Or, in our case, Spiderman rain boots on western day.  And really, it doesn't matter.