Back From the Beach, Part Two

We headed home from the beach last night, after taking an extended weekend trip that started on Friday and ended yesterday evening.

Here is a recap of the weekend:

Friday:

Realize that although you have left 90% of all the things you took up to the beach for an entire week at the beach house, that you still need to pack three more bags of crap.

Face the reality that by not running the dishwasher and doing the laundry the night before, you have dug yourself yet another time hole that will somehow bite you in the ass.

Try yet again to keep the bathroom door closed so you do not find the Little Lady pulling herself up on the toilet or putting her hands in the froggy potty.

Bribe the Lady with TV time.

In an attempt to put away laundry and get a little organized you try to restack the towels under the bathroom sink. This leads to the Little Lady, pulling out said towels and climbing under the sink. One positive note--you find the iron that your husband has been bitching about being missing. Where did you find it? Right where you told him to look.

Pay the cable bill, that has apparently been sent to your husband's alternate e-mail address and not to your actual mailbox, resulting in a letter from your TV provider saying if the bill isn't paid that service will be shut off.

Realize that you are sweating and need a shower, not to mention some serious leg shaving, you try to take one. This results in both of the Ladies coming into the bathroom and pulling back the shower curtain. Luckily, the Lady makes no pubic hair comments, but you are forced to disrobe the Little Lady and take her in with you in order to ensure that she stops trying to climb in herself. This leads to one clean baby, but no shaved legs.

Field a phone call from you husband, with the Little Lady screaming in the background. He asks how your day is going. You say, we are leaving in 10 minutes. He asks you to rummage through a suitcase for giftcards so he can buy jeans. Turns out, they are in his computer bag.


Almost ready? All the bags are packed and the girls are almost dressed but then the doorbell rings. It is your downstairs neighbor. Is there a leak in your bathroom? Because some water is dripping down into mine. How do you explain to someone who doesn't have kids that there is no such thing as taking a simple shower? That the reason that water has leaked out onto your bathroom floor, is because your kids are pulling the shower curtain to the side to talk to you, covering their heads with it and pulling it all the way back so that they get sprayed just enough to be wet and slippery and just enough that all of the water that isn't getting you clean, is ending up on your bathroom floor. Ugh.

Towel everyone off.

Put the Ladies in the car, with the AC running.

Put on Wubb-Idol.

Run back into the house to gather said bags of crap. Don't forget Dora blankie, green blankie, Big Gerry, Gerry and Moonie.

Throw them in the back.

Pick up your husband at his office.

Request coffee. Large coffee.

Hope for no traffic and sunny skies.

Saturday:

Get up early and get to the beach. This is really no problem at all because the Little Lady thinks that "waking up with the birds" should be lived literally.

Be grateful that the weather reports seem to be wrong and that even though it is overcast and a few drops have fallen that there does not appear to be torrential rain on the horizon as promised. This is even better considering that your grandparents are taking the ferry over to see the kids and that the house is already full with six kids and the countless adults who take responsibility for them.

Limit yourself to 3 Vodka sodas because you have signed up to run a 5k in the morning and you don't want to go in ill prepared.

Watch the fireworks!

Bed.

Sunday:

Get up a little groggy with the Little Lady at 6:15. Bring her downstairs as not to wake up the Lady. Have the Wild Woman join you a few minutes later, then the Lady. At 7:15 realize that you are in no shape to actually run. Go back to bed for 20 minutes.

Awake feeling much better. Put on running clothes. This drives home the fact that at 8 am it is already 84 degrees and you still have to run 3.2 miles. Hydrate.

Get picked up by other family members you have roped into joining you on this endeavor. Discuss the game plan of walking when necessary.

Make your way to the start line. Run.

At the first hill, after about a mile, get cheered on by your uncle who is sitting next to a guy with a garden hose spraying the runners. Be grateful for the cool water, the support and the fact that your running partner says that you are walking all the hills.

Keep running.

Try to stop thinking about throwing up. Try to stop thinking about how every time you have finished a race, prepared or ill-prepared that you have thrown up.

Walk the last hill. Wonder why the route isn't so clearly marked. Make a right, hope it is correct.

Recognize where you are on the course and that you are almost done. Keep running.

Make it to the finish without throwing up.

Find your husband, the Lady and the Little Lady. Hydrate.

Wait for your other family members who smartly walked the entire race.

Head back to the beach house for a "Criminal Minds" marathon and some sitting time.

Monday:

Why Little Lady? Why? It is 6 am. Seriously? Seriously? Bring her downstairs. Do laundry, clean the kitchen. Wait for everyone else to wake up.

Wait for the Lady to wake up at ten to 8. Try to get organized because you are meeting people for breakfast at 8:30 and it takes 15 minutes to walk there.

At 8:15 finally leave the house. Legs like lead, pushing Bunny and the Lady in the double stroller.

Five minutes from the restaurant, get a call saying that the place is closed on Monday, but there is another breakfast place, like a mile and a half away. Keep walking.

Eat breakfast.

Walk back.

Head to the beach. Head to the water park.

Keep telling yourself to shower, but don't, because really I am sure you don't smell after running the 5k and not showering and then walking another 5 miles in super high humidity.

Try to pack the car while the Ladies sleep. Oh, the Lady isn't taking a nap? Keep trying.

Hold down the Lady, so that your cousin can extract a splinter from the bottom of her foot that if not removed, might require a trip to the emergency room or at least the drs. office. Try to keep it together when the Lady is screaming "I need to take a little break!"

Aim for a 6pm departure time. Get a phone call from your husband reminding you that he has softball and that when you get home he won't be there to help you unload all the crap.

Look frantically for your car keys.

Find them.

Put in Wubb-Idol.

Stop for a coffee.

Realize that the Lady has fallen asleep. This bodes well for getting her down when you get home.

Turn off Wubb-Idol.

Listen to the Little Lady fuss and scream for almost an hour. Pull over. Feed her a bottle.

Drive home.

Unload the car, put the Little Lady to bed. Bribe the Lady with milk and TV. Do the laundry, unload the dishwasher, sweep up all the sand from the floor.

Eat a handful of peanut M&M's for dinner.

When your husband gets home from softball, have him deal with the meltdown that is the Lady. Tell him you want to take a shower. Have him hear "Why don't you take a shower?" and then get in himself.

Finally get the Lady down.

Finally take a shower.

Bed.

Today

Oh, Little Lady, I love you so. 7:45 am? Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.