seriously

Yesterday was one of those days where the only proper response to almost every situation was a resounding, "SERIOUSLY?!" Seriously. The twins woke up at 5:15 am, teething something fierce. A is cutting 2 teeth and MJ is cutting 4. Seriously. Cranky babies all day. Seriously.

Then every time the phone rang there was just bad news. It got to the point where we would just look at the phone when it rang, wondering what on earth it could possibly be NOW. M called and told me that it wasn't exactly going to cost the $400 we were told it would to fix the transmission in his car (which busted the day after mine blew, Seriously.) but it was going to cost $3100. SERIOUSLY?! Because we just have that kind of cash laying around. Seriously. Especially after traveling across the country and buying plane tickets to Alaska. Seriously. The fix it place was more than willing to give us financing, at 12%. SERIOUSLY?! Oh yeah, put those papers on the desk and give me the pen. Silly people. I'll pick up a shift or two at Hooters before I pay 12% interest on anything. Seriously!

T's son J, who is 2, was feeling our stress so I decided to take him out for a walk. I noticed an unusually large number of seagulls out, but didn't think much of it, until we started walking and one started squawking and divebombed our heads. Seriously. I thought it was just a fluke so we just kept walking, but no, the thing did it 4 or 5 more times before the light bulb finally went off that something wasn't right, or that this bird had dug through someones trash and took a hit of their left over booze... or pills... or... whatever. As we headed home the thing kept diving for our heads. I was screaming, J thought it was hilarious and was screaming just like I was. I'm sure we looked like a big bunch of freak shows. Seriously. Thank goodness we made it home without the thing taking out a chunk of my hair, or picking J straight up off the ground with its crazy razor sharp talons. Seriously.

After we got home we realized the stupid thing was protecting something and T finally saw the 3 baby seagulls walking across the driveway. The mama had kicked them out of their nest and was teaching them to live on their own, and in the process was keeping everything away by crapping on them or taking off pieces of their ears. Seriously. I am not exaggerating, at all. Seriously. So for a good 2 hours we ran from the porch and back inside trying to avoid getting our eyes gouged out while still watching the baby birds. Seriously. And it was also pretty entertaining to watch as innocent bystanders had the audacity to actually drive into their driveways and get out of their cars, not knowing that they were about to run screaming and crying into their homes as their lives flashed before their eyes. Seriously.

So then M calls back and told me that the transmission in his car breaking might actually be a good thing (??). Seriously?! You are not getting a new car, sorry. Seriously. But no, he assured me it was actually a good thing because we could pay for the transmission by refinancing the van, at an interest rate that was half of the interest we were paying now (the lowest rate in the past 2 years), which meant we could actually be paying less for our monthly payments. SERIOUSLY!? Sign me up! That is a deal I can handle. And I won't have to go work at Hooters! (And for real, don't even start to lecture me about finances and spending and being responsible with money and blah blah blah. SER.I.OUS.LY.)

Deep down I knew the transmission thing was going to work out so I refused to really stress about it. I was pretty much at that "...whatever..." point. I mean, seriously, what are the odds that the transmissions in both of our cars would need to be completely replaced in the same week? SERIOUSLY! We should start playing the lotto and staying inside during thunderstorms so we don't get struck by lightning. Seriously! Do we have little transmission gnomes living in our cars? Did we make the transmission gods mad? How is that even possible? Seriously.

Even though something good came of the crazy day, it was just seriously thing after thing, bad news after bad news, weirdness after weirdness. By 6pm A had found a cookie and was eating that while sucking down a cup of J's soy milk (which she's allergic to), MJ was in the corner sucking on a dum dum and J was doing only God knows what... Seriously, when did I become mother of the year? T and I finally threw all the kids in bed, did the dishes and sat down for a much needed break, only to realize that we hadn't eaten dinner, at all. Seriously. And what sounded delicious at 10pm? Half price day old donuts from Safeway, of course. Seriously! I'm pretty sure the checker thought I was high and had the munchies as the contents of my cart included the following: 6, half price day old donuts, a bag of ruffles, 2 containers of yogurt, a couple of boxes of candy, blueberries, strawberries and a bag of cherries. Seriously. Nothing like a sugar crash to put me right to sleep. Had to counteract that 5pm cup of coffee somehow. Seriously. It was just that kind of day. Seriously.

trippin numero dos

Well, we made it. As semi promised, my car was ready by 3pm and we had it repacked and on the road by 3:18 on Thursday afternoon. And then we drove... and drove... and drove. We drove from the Arkansas/ Oklahoma boarder, through Oklahoma, North Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and half of California, only stopping for food, gas, and diaper changes. And for a small nap at a well lit and very busy rest stop somewhere in New Mexico.

We drove for 35 hours. 35 non stop hours with 4 kids ages 4 and under. It was... interesting. Someone asked my friend J if it took us so long because we drove 50 MPH the entire time, and no, we didn't. But we did drive about 60 because it was so darn windy through New Mexico, Arizona and So Cal that we couldn't go much faster in a fully loaded van with a stroller strapped to the roof. It was so windy that I got only 13.4 miles per gallon through most of AZ and So Cal. And there was the stopping 30 minutes out of every 3 hours to take care of everyone. 35 hours. THIRTY. FIVE. HOURS.

But we all survived, relatively sane and mentally intact, even with all of the car drama. The kids were amazing and put up with it very well and NO, there was no use of benedryl or other sleep inducing medicine. I don't roll that way, ever. People have asked me how we did it, how we kept them entertained and from throwing things at our heads and the truth is, we didn't have to do much (but I'll save that post for a later date). They are just awesome kids.

Three days after we got "home", the twins and I hopped a plane to Alaska. I'll save the "how the heck do you fly with twins" post for a later date also, but let's sum it up, again, as I have awesome kids. I am so glad I am here, I have missed my friend T like crazy and this is exactly what she needs... what I need too... because it is all about me, after all. I have to say though, it is a little weird to have my family spread out just about as far as you can be within the USA. M is on the East Coast, W and CB are on the West and I'm all the way in Alaska with the twins. I think we should all meet in Hawaii later in the Summer and call it good. Then we will have literally trekked from end to end of the country.

There are so many questions, I know: "Why are you up there?" "What is going on?" "How on earth could you leave your kids for so long?" "Why would you leave your kids for so long?" "How could you take them away from their father for so long?" "Why would you leave your husband for so long, or at all?" "Are you guys separating?" That one is always my favorite. Blah.

I'll answer the first two questions when I can but I will say now that, no, M and I aren't separating and yes, I love W and CB very, very much. I'm ok with being away from them for so long as they are ok with being away from us for so long. I trust them, I trust my parents (who they are staying with), I know they are fine and will survive without me and will be ok without M too. M can't take time off right now and while he misses us tremendously, he knows this is exactly where we all need to be right now and is fine with it.

Dudes, we live a crazy life. It wouldn't be us if it wasn't ridiculous. We'd be all bored and stuff. We'd be... "normal"... and that would be weird. Not that normal is bad, it just isn't what we do. This is what we do. It doesn't make sense to many, or any, and there are very few people who understand this kind of life but it works for us. I'm not going to justify it, or try to explain it because 1) I don't need to and 2) it would probably be a waste of time and 3) did I mention I don't need to? Ok, thanks. Ooooooh, look at me getting all defensive. I just don't want to hear the judgments anymore. So if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all, por favor. Gracias.

trippin

A couple of weeks ago my best friend T called me with news that managed to turn my Y axis 180 degrees and caused my world start spinning in the opposite direction. She's been my partner in crime, my confidant, the devil on my shoulder, the voice of reason in my ear, my medicine, my poison, the source of my sanity and a pillar of strength for the past 9 years-- what was happening had to be a cruel joke, but it wasn't. In that moment, I told her that if there was anything I could do, anything at all, to just say it and I'd be there. Last week we decided that I was going to go to her, so we could just be.

In order to do this, I needed to head back to CA, with the kids, drop the older 2 off with my parents and then take the twins with me to T. No big deal-- this is cake! We just did this trip, we're pros. I called my friend J and asked her if she wanted to take a few days off of work to come out and then drive with me and she said yes. And I reminded her that I had 4 kids and she would be stuck, in a minivan, for 4 days. And she still said yes. That is a good friend, right there

So I got everything in order, started packing, tying up the loose ends and getting ready to be gone for anywhere from 6 weeks to 3 months. I took the car in for a check up, making sure they checked the transmission because the car had done something funny when I tried to reverse earlier in the week. They changed the oil, told me everything was fine with the transmission and I told them that was good because the last thing I needed was for the car to blow up on me in the middle of Texas. Everything was going great, and then J's flight got delayed, and she ended up stuck in Dallas for the night, instead of making it to me.

No big deal, slight change of plans. I would just take a little detour and pick her up from the airport after her flight landed on my way out the next morning. We ended up getting on the road 4 hours later than I wanted to, but no worries. All we had to do was be in CA by Saturday, we still had time. At one point we pulled off to fix the straps that were holding down the stroller on the top of the van and I noticed there was a very weird sound coming from my car. I thought we were dragging something underneath, but when I looked, there was nothing there. I turned off the air conditioner and we drove a bit and the noise seemed to disappear, so we went on our way. After stopping for dinner we decided to push for another 120 miles and then called it a night.

The next morning we got up, got dressed and headed out. Everything was going well, despite it being 80 degrees at 8am. Because it was so hot I broke down and turned the AC back on. I noticed the car was a bit "jumpy" but would calm down after a few words of encouragement. We were making really good time and I blew through a tank of gas in record time. Looking back, I should have realized I was getting only 15 miles to the gallon, instead of the normal 21 highway that I normally get. As we pulled off to get gas, the car jumped. And then pretty much refused to accelerate. I managed to make it to a gas station, only to have the car peel out on me as I tried to accelerate into a parking space. At that point, I knew something was really wrong, and my gut told me that if I didn't get the car to a service center, we were going to be stranded within 90 miles. And the thought of being stranded on the side of the road with 4 kids and a busted up car in 90 degree heat gave me a panic attack. 4 kids, 4 carseats, J and me cannot fit in a tow truck! What would we do?

There was a dealership about 15 miles away so I gave the car a little rest, said about a hundred and fifty prayers and slowly headed back onto the freeway. As I pulled into the left turn lane to turn into the dealership, my dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree decorated with warning and check engine lights, and then the car refused to accelerate. We literally coasted into the parking lot. Thank you, Jesus, we made it but Oh. My. Goodness. Are you kidding me? W defines the "middle of nowhere" as "Texas" but we weren't in Texas-- we were in The Middle of Nowhere, America. Stuck. There was no way that car was going anywhere.

The service guy was like, "well, we'll see if we can work it in, but we're really busy..." and I was like, "well, my 4 kids and I are going to have to sit in this waiting room and terrorize all of you until you manage to 'work it in' so you might want to think about doing that sooner rather than later, if you know what I mean." And he was like, "well, last time we saw this kind of problem it took about a week to get the parts." And I was like, "well, that's hilarious because there's no way in heck we are going to be stuck here for a week. I'll rent a car, fly a plane, stowaway on a train car, paddle a boat or find a donkey cart and go get the parts myself before we are stuck here for a week." And he was like, "well, the other dude is going to look at it while I'm at lunch and then we'll go from there" and I was like, "well, ok, cause I don't really want to ride a donkey from here to Dallas to pick a transmission, know what I mean?" and he was like, "yo, I totally do."

So the other dude took it out for a test drive and disappeared for a couple of hours. When he finally made another cameo, he was with the head of the service department, someone who is normally  allusive. I knew this wasn't good news. Mr. Allusive didn't beat around the bush, he just gave it to me straight and told me they had ordered me a new transmission, and it would be here the next day. Oy. And then the service dude told me he would personally bust his butt to get it put in as fast as he could, while still doing it correctly, and that we should be on the road again by 3, maaaaaaaybe 4. Oy.

Apparently, when I took the car in to be serviced before I left, they didn't really look at the transmission. Because if they did, they would have seen that it was a mess. The other dude told me that the pan thingy under the transmission was filled with metal and that it was totally messed up. He also said he was pretty sure we had been driving in 1 gear, overdrive, for a very very long time and that he was really surprised we had made it as far as we did. He also said it was a very good thing we had stopped because if we didn't, we would have been stranded within 90 miles. Oy. And believe me, there is NOTHING between here and the next big city, which is well over 90 miles away. We would have been screwed.

After spending almost 6 hours in the dealership, we made our way to the hotel for the night. The dealership was awesome and had contacted some of their advertisers and got us a free hotel room, free food and a $30 van rental. That all managed to take some of the sting off the fact that my van, that only has 25,000 miles on it, is now having the AC fixed for the 4th time (because that, and the defrost also failed again about 300 miles before the transmission did), has had the radiator replaced at 8000 miles and is now getting a new transmission. I really know how to pick a winner of a car!! Ironic, because the Jetta I had before I got married required a new transmission at eight HUNDRED miles, and then 2 more transmissions after that. Everything I touch turns to crap, I swear.

Now I get to decide if I want to call the other service center, the one who told me my car was just fine 4 days ago, and yell at them, or if I just want to file a formal complaint through the car maker, or both. This dealership thinks the other dealership just said they looked at it, but didn't, but still filed the warranty claim to get some cash. They think this because 1) there's no way they could have told me what they did (took the transmission apart and looked at it) in the time they said they did it in (2 hours) and 2) if they had taken it apart, they would have seen some of the problems the dude did right away. Oy. I'm just irritated.

Thankfully, I have the best kids in the entire world and they are pretty much up for anything. They are having their moments but they are doing pretty well, especially for being cooped up in a car and waiting room and hotel room for the better part of 3 days. It could be sooooo much worse. I'm waiting for the call to come get my car, and praying really hard it comes sooner or later and then we are going balls to the wall and driving as far as we possibly can to get through the rest of America and to California before Saturday. Oy.

To be continued... just not sure how yet...

see ya!

I'm fixin to be one of "those girls" and ditch all of my friends to go hang out with the dude I'm seeing. Lord willing, I will be picking my husband up from the airport sometime in the next 12 hours and from there, he and I are headed out on our first vacation alone together since December of 2004 for half of his R&R. This will actually be the first time we ever flown together. That's going to be weird. I'm very particular and have a stringent routine about how I go through security so he's most likely going to get annoyed with me. And I'm sure that will only be the first time I'll be on his nerves during this trip. It should be a good time though. It's been a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG nine and a half months since he left and we need this. Dang it, we deserve this.

Thanks to all who are making this trip possible for us by allowing us to freeload off of you: the grandparents for taking care of the kids for the next week, my aunt and her friend for the plane tickets, my aunt and uncle for letting us stay with them for a couple days and setting up a fishing charter for us (or as my best friend T calls it, being a bath toy for the whales) and to T for letting us stay with her for a couple of days too, even though she's 9 months pregnant and admittedly cranky. I promise I will try not to get on your nerves too and I will bring a peace offering of mayo and Texas toast. Crap, that means I have to go to the store and get the toast. I forgot. Ok, I will bring a peace offering of mayo and spend the $13.25 to send you 2, $2.10 bags of Texas toast in the mail once we get home.

progress report

I know I probably shouldn't feel that bad about not updating this, as all of my friends who have blogs have been serious slackers when it comes to updating theirs, but I do feel bad. They probably have great excuses like being busy with important things such as Christmas shopping and spreading holiday cheer, two things I have absolutely no interest in doing this year, but I don't have any excuse, really. I don't even know what I do all day anymore. It's pretty much just one big blur from 6 am to midnight.

I know I've been busy running around the metropolitan areas trying to get supplies for my budding business venture. I also know that I've managed to spend a lot of money on gas these past few weeks with all the driving I've done. Not that it's that hard to spend money on gas these days. I know I've been reading a lot and researching tons so I can be good at what I do. I thought I had been doing a good job of keeping in contact with my friends, but then I got an email from my best friend T "gently" reminding me that she had sent me an email like 4 days ago and I still hadn't replied. I'm pretty sure her exact words were "U Butt! oh my gaw! you are the worst person to get a hold of. has anyone ever told you that?". Man, I miss that chick more than words can say. She is the only person on this earth who can say that to me without me waving my finger and going all "FIRST OF ALL" on her. I was sure I had emailed her back, because deep down I really am a good friend, but then I looked at my inbox and realized that I had about 14 emails from the past week that I had read, but never responded to. That could have something to do with the fact that the only time I am getting online these days to do "fun" stuff is when I'm feeding the baby and I can't really type well with 1 hand. Goodness, I need my Boppy. Too bad I'm too cheap to go buy another one.

It's not just the personal stuff that's keeping me busy. The kids are pretty much out of control these days. W has decided that I must hold him at all times all day and CB has decided that she is going to get her fiber intake from eating little invisible specks of something in the carpet and paper. Lots of paper. I try to keep it away from her but her brother thinks it's funny when he gives it to her and I start to yell. Then I get mad at him for him thinking it's funny and then he throws things. Because that is what you do when you are angry. You throw whatever you can, even if you have to rip the pacifier from your own mouth, just to launch it to prove your point. He's such an activist. Actually I should give him some credit because today, he got angry at me and went to toss his little IKEA chair that's part of his table set across the room, but he realized he would get in big fat trouble if he did that. So he stopped himself and proceeded to gently put the chair down and turn it on its side. Then he did the same with the other one, turned to look at me, smiled, and walked away. I'm doomed.

Retrospectively (is that even a word?), I guess I have been busy and will probably stay this busy until I manage to pull my head out of my butt and get things clear and organized. Who knows when, and if, that will ever happen. I keep saying things will get better. They were supposed to get better when we moved back to CA, then they were supposed to get better once we got settled, then it was Halloween, then it was Thanksgiving and now it's going to get better once Christmas (that I don't even want to do) is over. Maybe there is a light at the end of this crazy spiraling vortex.

an explanation

Some of you may wonder about my writing style. Here's the deal: I write like I speak. Unless I'm writing a term paper. If I'm doing that, then I come up with all kinds of thesaurus worthy vocabulary and use sentence structure that would dazzle even the most anal English professor. But that's a lot of work, so I don't do it. The next time I do writing like that will be when I'm writing my children's term papers so they get A's and get into a fantastic college on a full ride so I don't have to pay for it. Isn't that what all the parents do these days? I can't even tell you how excited I am to do a science fair project from scratch the night before it's due and let my little man take all the credit as he stands next to his perfect photo board in his preppy polo and heavily starched khaki pants.

Much of my writing style comes from the constant barrage of emails I receive from friends on a daily basis. It's normally nothing but mindless banter, witty comments and harmless teasing. Occasionally, we can come up with a good pun. That's a good day when that happens.

But the most influence on my writing has come from my best friend, T. T and I met 6 years ago while we were both working the worst job known to man. Ok, well maybe not the worst job known to man. I mean, we weren't bottling deer pee or artificially inseminating cows or even picking up dead armadillos from a sweltering Texas highway in the middle of the summer. We were just working with annoying, entitled tourists but still, it was pretty bad.

T and I hit it off from the start and we haven't stopped talking since. For 6 years, we've laughed about the same stories over and over. We think they are funny but apparently, our husbands think otherwise. Since she lives in the land of Snow and Santa Claus, not to mention the occasional igloo and penguin and I've lived in the land of cows, rain, more cows and now live in the land of beer, leiderhousen, and soft pretzels, we have to communicate by email. We are both too cheap to call unless we are using night and weekend minutes. Reading her emails makes me feel like I'm talking to her. Only she can fit Paris Hilton, big trucks, tapered pants and bad hair into the same paragraph and make it work. As Tyra Banks would say, "She's fierce". Since she writes this way to me, I write the same way back to her and it works. It's just a running commentary on the inner workings of my brain. It's almost therapeutic. And, since I can go for days without talking to another adult in person, it's nice to be able to write out my thoughts, word for word. Consider this my Zoloft substitute.