Hold me!

I'm scared.

All but three of the squash you see below was harvested this morning.

(whimper)

I think the resemblence is uncanny...

Various Updates

I never wrote about Day 3 on Trip from Hell. It involved making several trips to obtain many continental breakfast items and taking 4 hours to drive what should have been a 2 hour trip. Spending 40 minutes getting "fast food" from McDonalds. Having to stop at another McDonalds 30 minutes away from our final destination for a last bathroom break. Having to stop at a Wendy's 10 minutes away from our final destination to get everyone consolation Frosty's which promptly melted in the 100 degree weather, along with all of our hopes, dreams and optimism. Arriving at Mom's. Unloading. The minivan, which had been professionally cleaned only 3 days before, now made T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland look like Disney World. Kelly and I indulged in a beer with the disapproving look of our grandmother and implored my father to drive us home. He did. We did not talk to one another for several days.

Several games of Scrabble ensued.

All of this is a moot point now because G has come and left. She flew back home. First class. Wonder why.

So we have turned to other pursuits to keep us busy. My garden is flourishing and I spend much of my time scouring the Internet for uses for squash. Yesterday, Tilda & I made Ginger Zucchini Cupcakes with Ginger Icing. Yes, you read that right. No, you cannot unread it. They weren't bad...but were odd. Very odd.

I also made a terrific squash casserole. Yummiest thing I have made in a long time.

Soon I will be looking for uses for tomatoes but I have at least one idea-seeing as how Mike and a bunch of people are working on a zombie movie, I think tomatoes would make good pulpy (and tasty!) gore. Even if they don't start filming until October-green, moldy tomatoes would be even better gore, right?

It's hard to believe it will be August this week and even harder to believe October is only two months away. This year has really flown by-uncomfortably so. I have real fear that I will blink my eyes and be an 86-year old widow living in a house by myself and waiting to die. I know I will be a widow because Mike is jerky enough to die before me, I just know it.

Friday is Tilda's 3rd birthday and the prospect of being a mother to a 3 year old is not helping. I can't really call her a baby anymore (and no, I refuse to be one of those mothers who say that my child "...will always be my baby." And yes, Ma, I am referring to you!)

That said, it has been really neat to see her become so...lucid, for lack of a better word. She remembers things very clearly, is starting to develop an imagination, and she has entire conversations with me, which I can actually follow. Such as this morning when she woke up:

Me: Good morning, Tilda.
Tilda: Morning, Mama. Where's Daddy?
Me: At work.
Tilda: At Batman-movie? (she has been watching a lot of Justice League. And Mike and I have been talking non-stop about The Dark Knight.
Me: No, Daddy doesn't work at Batman movie.
Tilda: At Superman-movie?
Me: No, Daddy works in Virginia.
(Eventually, she will understand that her Daddy is not as exciting as she may have initially thought.)

We have some version of this conversation almost every morning.

So, back to birthday. I'm not any good at planning these parties. At this point, the plan is to have cake and a little wading pool set up for Tilda. She has only asked for one thing-a tricycle, and that has been taken care of. So, open presents too. Family only. I hope she will have a fun, Tilda-centric day.

We were going to do a WALL-E themed birthday but found a great deal on Batman birthday decorations, so we are going for that. She likes Batman too. And all the WALL-E stuff really sucks. Besides, she likes any movie at this point. She's definitely her father's daughter. Even right now, she is watching Peter Pan or, as she calls it "Pita Pan."

So I will be spending the next few days looking for Batman-themed appetizers and fretting about my inadequacy as a mother. If you are lucky, I won't write about it.

!!!Geek Alert!!!

This is SO cool....

I am in the blue category

more graph humor and song chart memes

Trip from Hell: Day 2

The human mind is a glorious thing. When something affects it negatively, truly hurts it, it does everything in its power to suppress the offensive memory, to protect the integrity of the rest of the grey matter.

In other words, this blog entry should be short because I have already forgotten most of what happened on this trip.

I wake up around 7AM. One thing about family trips is that you learn something new about your relatives. I learned that once my 6-year old niece awakens, she starts talking and doesn't stop. No really.

I didn't mind so much since I didn't sleep well the night before. I had to share the bed with the 2 year old who, surprisingly, doesn't kick, but did feel the need to (in her sleep?) roll over and kiss me every hour. Also, like her father, she seems to be not content unless her arm is resting on my forehead.

So I get up, take a shower. Learn that my father called at 630AM to check in. (Smart man-he learns to anticipate the crazy lady's phone calls). Awakens my sister who has already been awakened several times by her kid.

Breakfasts 1-17. Homewood Suites by Hilton offers a complimentary hot breakfast every morning, with items like cereals, sausages, eggs, pastries, bagels, juices, etc... An excellent value for a traveling group of six, right? Well, what this also means is that we make a multitude of breakfast runs. Go down stairs-get coffees. We need more coffees than we have hands for. Solution? Fill coffee pot in room. Downstairs. Get bagels. Downstairs. Oh no-burned a bagel. Get new bagel. And danishes for kids. Downstairs. No, got one cream cheese danish and one raspberry. They both NEED cheese danishes. Downstairs. Didn't get enough creamer. Downstairs. Grab bananas for trip. Downstairs.

So we get to G's by around 10AM. I start making room for G's suitcase.

G doesn't realize she is going anywhere. Didn't pack. Thought we were leaving tomorrow.

Get G's suitcase. Pack. Straighten out medicine. Lock up. Leave.

G sits quietly throughout most of the trip. We occasionally bicker. Tom-Tom occasionally "moos."

It has been cloudy and rainy all day. Around 3PM we are in West Virginia and trying to figure out if we can make it all the way. The nearest town is Morgantown, WVA-3 hours away from where my parents live, so we can probably make it. But G is obviously tired and the DVD player has given up the ghost from overuse. We search frantically for a hotel room in Morgantown and settle into a Hampton Inn in two rooms.

We have dinner. Adults order alcohol. G, back in the hotel room, accidentally orders 10,000 BC and some porno. She was looking for the Discovery Channel.

We search for additional liquor to "take the edge off." (how desperate does that sound?) Malibu and diet coke = yummy. We drink Malibu and watch Spongebob with the kids. It's tropical, dammit.

To bed. Uncomfortable pokiness and bad dreams. Slept for about an hour.

Wake up to the sound of Rory talking. Day 3 dawns. We still live...but for how long?

No Exit

So while I have already published some G-isms, I realized I have not yet recounted The Terror-our trip to Ohio. My sister did an excellent pictoral documentary of our trip to Ohio-you can find it here. Note the fear on the children's faces.

I am NOT a photographer (most of the pics I post are taken by my sister) so I will document in words.

FRIDAY:
I knew it would start and end badly when my mother informed me she would be picking me up at 7AM. As the first day I had off in a while, and the beginning of a 10-day long "vacation," one might have THOUGHT that I would be entitled to sleep in on my first day. But no, my mother decided we needed to get an early start. So I grabbed my child and loaded in the Van of Doom. We were at Kelly's by 715.

715AM:

Multiple bathroom breaks. I think we get on the road by 8. I am driving. Unhappiness settles in.

(Aside here: None of the females in our family can read, write, concentrate, think or function while in the passenger seat of a car. We all get carsick. What does this mean? Either we all have to drive at the same time (not really possible) or one person drives while the others try to make conversation, not vomit, or both at the same time. Regardless, it is a chore.)

(Second aside: Since my parents have historically had no sense of direction, they purchased a Tom-Tom GPS unit. These things are the work of Satan. They bark directions out to you and yell at you if you are going the wrong way. They also notify you if you exceed the speed limit. And if you have a maternal unit in the car as well, you get incessant whining and nagging from both units. )

810AM: We must get she-beast, my sister, caffeine before she reveals her True Self Who Shall Not Be Named. McDonald's run.

811AM: Mom calls Dad to make sure he is still alive. Whines that he has never been alone by himself in 30something years. Teasing ensues.

815AM: We are on 340 West. Tom-Tom is telling me I am speeding and Mom is gleeful that she is notified of this. Glaring ensues from both fronts.

816AM: Baby vomits. 15 minutes spent on cleaning car and calming child.

820AM: I disclose that my doctor informed me that I am at risk for detached retinas (!). In other words, my eyes can pop out if I am whacked on the back of the head. Mother and Sister find this hysterical and proceed to threaten to whack me on the back of the head.

830AM-1030AM: Back on the road. I will soon discover that much coffee and I-68 (note to future self: there are NO RESTSTOPS on I-68!!!! ) make for an unhappy Jameebladder. I become sullen and morose (no really-this is a change for me! Other passengers quiet.) Several hopeful, but wrong terms are made. This is truly Deliverance-country.

1030: Dadcheck-believe it or not, he is still alive.

1145AM: We stop at the McDonald's in Cumberland, MD, as this is the first sign of civilization in hours. Multiple bathroom stops. We bicker about who should drive. We change drivers. Desperation sets in and it has only been 3 hours.

We cross the border (into WVA?).

We cross the border again (into MD?).

We cross the border again (into WVA?). We have no idea where the hell we are. Tom-tom guides us, but we hate him.

Mom calls dad-still alive.

Meanwhile, the two eldest children begin to watch Peter Pan.

At some point we stop for lunch at a Cracker Barrel.

We continue on towards Ohio. Dread fills our hearts.

Mom calls dad-no answer. Mom pouts. (Turns out he had no signal. Whew! That was close!)

Mom discovers that she can change the warning alert that notifies her when one of her children-chauffeurs are speeding. She can do a nuclear warning sound. A chime. Or a cow's moo. What do you think she picks?

"Moo."

Children watch Peter Pan for a second time.

"Moo."

At some point near Zanesville, Ohio, we encounter a backup. An hour long backup. Due to flooding. I found this out only because I had my Blackberry on me. Apparently, the interstate had been shut down for almost 24 hours due to a lake spilling over. We look at awe at the water. We bitch at each other. We drive on.

Mom calls Dad-Surprise! Still alive.

4PM: We hit the nastiest rest stop ever. Because of the flooding (I think and hope!), only 2 stalls out of 6 are working. We wait in line in muddied floors. My child refuses to use the potty and throws a fit in front of everyone.

"Moo."

The battery on the children's DVD player begins to die. Dread fills our hearts.

"Moo."

Cincinnati. We are close now.

"Moo."

Mom calls Dad. Dad answers. Man never ceases to amaze.

7PM: We arrive at G's. According to evil Tom-Tom, we should have only taken 7 1/2 hours for our trip. The Tom-Tom exceeds in only reminding us that our insanity lengthens our madness.

We see G-she looks better than we expected. The children begin to promptly rip apart her house. She decides we should all go out for a steak dinner.

We check into our hotel at 9PM. Children are exhausted. Adults are exhausted. Baby is chipper and wide-awake. Fortunately, our heroine remembered to pack something alcoholic. Unfortunately, the fake wine-sangria she selected SUCKS. Adults try to get stoned on this nastiness while she to coerce smallest female into taking a nap.

Midnight -I check out.

(to be continued...)

G-isms

Mom was trying to explain tapas bars to Grandma.

Mom: "They are called tapas-little appetizers."
Me: (to G) "I had some in Pittsburgh-they are delicious. There's a tapas bar in Frederick-we can take you, if you want."
G: (looking confounded and worried)"You want to take me to a topless bar?"