Friday, February 26, 2010

Where's the Hotel???

Most of my blog consists of random things my kids say or do that make me laugh. Just a few days ago, my husband, two sons, and I took off for a small vacation. Our plan was to go to St. George and escape the colder weather for a few days. Karter was tremendously excited to go swimming in the hotel with his new swimsuit (which is two sizes too big for him). We drove up, checked in and headed for the outlet stores first (my pants are two sizes to big for ME). The entire time, Karter was asking when we could go back to the hotel and swim. Sadly, it had started to rain. However, making good on our promise, we all got in our suits, and ran for the "swimming pool" (really the hot tub) where we sat and stared at each other. Jace was so exhausted all he could do is cry but we were there and life was good. If Karter had his way, we would have stayed in the hotel all day to swim, eat, and watch tv (why in the world would we want to sit there and watch tv when we can do that at home?)



The next morning, we all got up and took off to see Zion's National Park. This is such a majestic and beautiful place! The weather was perfect; partly sunny, 60ish degrees. Upon entering the park, the entrance booth gave us a map. We were looking at the map and planning the daily activities when Karter said, "Hey mom, can I see the map?" I promptly handed the map back to Karter to which he studied it for a second and said, "So, where is our hotel on this map?" We all laughed but this little question became the theme for the day as we were plagued with the same question every 5 seconds: "When do we get to go back to the hotel?"

After a few hours of this, I finally lost it and told Karter that if he said that ONE MORE TIME, I was going to spank him. To this he VERY quietly muttered, "I just want to know when we are going back to the hotel."



A short while later we decided to go on an easy hike. The trail guide said the trail was paved and handicap accessible...I can do handicap accessible...I thought. Everything was going fine until we got halfway through the trail. I was wearing my newly acquired pants that fit (finally!) and my newish shoes. I don't get new clothing for myself very often so I was feeling a bit protective of the conditions of said items. As we got to the halfway point of the loop, a beautiful waterfall was cascading down the rocks. Some of it had frozen at the bottom. We looked at it's beauty and moved on. Suddenly the ground started to get very sticky. The more we walked, the more I noticed that the ground was mostly red, sticky, gooey, mud. This was delightful to my four-year-old boy (whose hand I was holding at the time to keep him from falling). He slopped and splashed around in the mud and had a great time. I was particularly concerned for my new shoes...they were getting VERY dirty (especially with all the sloshing my son was doing around me). Kel was just trying to push the stroller through the muck. I finally gave up and told everyone we were going to turn around and go back. This disappointed Karter. He had finally gone more than five minutes without asking when we were going to go back to the hotel. Dad and Karter decided to go just a little farther while I waited there with Jace and his muddy stroller.




Karter continued to slosh around and get dirty. He even intentionally tried "falling" in the mud. This went on until he came back and smeared red mud all over my coat. I'd had enough so I said, "Karter, if you don't stop sloshing in the mud, the hotel workers aren't going to let you back in the hotel." This sobered him up quite a bit. Red mud suddenly became death and he panicked trying to get the stuff off of him. He fell a half a dozen more times and it was suddenly a HUGE deal.



When we finally got back to the car, I got the baby wipes out and tried to repair some of the damage. I told Karter to keep his feet off the back of my seat or I would be "One mad momma." As I worked, Karter kept chanting, "Mad mommmmmma, maaaaaad mommmma." We were able to get a significant amount off of Karter however his question all the way back to the hotel had changed to, "will they let me in the hotel with all this mud on me?"

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Lightening: The Failed Fish

Let me preface this story by saying that I grew up with fish. They were mine. I think I had dozens and lost dozens and never felt to bad when they died. I was always afraid of them and dad had to clean my tank out always. I used to have a tiny frog in my tank. I would always hurry to put the food in the tank because I was afraid he would jump out.

Anyway, I couldn't understand my husband's reaction when Karter was given a fish for his birthday. It was, "Oh NO...Here we go." Karter was delighted with it (especially when we took the bowl up to his room). Kel relinquished all responsibility to me. I was going to clean the bowl, feed the fish, etc. So on Sunday night we were getting the kiddos ready for bed. Kelly comes in Jace's room and whispers in my ear, "uh, Lightening is belly up." I told him he had better tell Karter and this is what I hear from Jace's room:

Kel: "Karter, what is Lightening doing?"
Karter: "I don't know dad...why isn't he moving?"
Kel: "He's dead."
Karter: "I don't want my fishy to be dead."

Then we proceed to tell him that fishies get flushed down the toilet when they are dead. So far so good. I haven't seen the destroyed face of my 4-year-old. As I turn the corner to help with the "burial process." I see my little boy, standing over the toilet, looking down at his fish, shoulders hunched and head down. This breaks my heart. I tell him he has to flush so his fishy can go to fishy heaven. He flushes but leaves his hand on the handle of the toilet for a long time. Then, he walks over to me and cuddles me and once again, says, "Mommy, I don't want my fishy to be dead." This brings the tears for me and I spend the rest of the night bawling my eyes out that my son felt the pain of losing something.

Ten minutes later he was perfectly fine. But before he fell asleep that night he said, "Hey daddy? Do you think Auntie Nati has another fish somewhere?" To which we both reply with an emphatic "NO!"